Skip to main content

Full text of "Essays, Moral and Entertaining"

See other formats


This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on Hbrary shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http : //books . google . com/| 


- - "-11^ --* 1-- \ 1 a ..... iK .'aM«^^^ik*^..M^MMi^. 





%.•**- ■• ,• 



-* •' 










'^ ■ 

.-^^LLiii^ ' i> 






Printed by T. Davison, 


» k 



• • » 




• « 








• • 



* » 

• •• ♦ • 

• • 



•• ••• 

• • 


• • • 




4 e • 4 

t « 


• * 
• •• 



As an historian. Lord Clarendon's reputation is 
too firmly fixed now to be affected by either praise 
or censure : — If, as a moral writer^ he appear with 
less advantage than his illustrious predecessor, his 
style, and its lengthened periods, will readily be en* 
dured for the soundness of his opinions and the 
integrity of his mind. . v 

Until \nthin these few years his Essays, which 
now form a suitable companion to those of Lord 
Bacon, were not disengaged from the bulky folio 
in which only they were to be found : in this edition, 
it has been thought proper to omit three, which, 
from their extreme length, ratlier claim to be con- 
sidered as dissertations : their titles are, ** Onan 
active and contemplative Life, anfi when and why 
the one ought to be preferred before the other;** 
** Of the Reverence due to Antiquity;** ^* Against 
the multiplying Controversies , by insisting upon 
Particulars that are not necessary to the Point in 
J>ebate," These are together equal in quantity to 
the remaining twenty-two, which form the contents 
of the present volume. 

Sept. 1819* 



MontpeUier, i66b. 

Thb perpetual fear and agony and apprehension, 
which wicked men always feel within themselves, 
is the argument that £picunis maCde, that human 
nature is so far from being inclined to ill, that it 
abhors all kind of wickedness ; '* quia InAxa nobis 
ejus rei atersaUo est, quam natura damnavit, ideo 
nunquam* fides latendi tit etiam latentibus ;'* and 
the frequent discoveries of very enormous crimes 
after long concealments, merely from the unquiet- 
ness of the offenders' own breasts, manifests how 
far our nature is from being delighted with works 
of darkness, that it cannot rest till they be exposed 
to light. If we did not take great pains, and were 
not at great expense to corrupt our nature, our na- 
ture would never corrupt us: We administer all 
the helps of industry and art to provoke our appe- 
tites, and to inflame our blood, and then we accuse 
nature for leading us into exces9es ; we kindle that 
fire that kindles our lust with a licentious diet, and 
then fan it into a flame with obscene discourses, 
and revile nature that it will not permit us to be 
chaste ; we provoke and cherish our anger with 

6 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

unchristian principles of revenge, and then iurelgfa 
agdnst nattire for mailing us choleric ; when, Gc»d 
IcnowB^ the little good we have in us, we owe only 
to the integrity of our nature ; which hath re- 
strained us from many vices which our passions 
would hurry us into. Very many men have re- 
mained or become temperate, by the very nausea- 
ting and aversion that nature hath to surfeits and 
excesses; and others have been restrained from 
making wicked attempts,' by the horror and trem- 
bling that nature hath suggested to them in the ap- 
proach. Many excellent men have grown to rare 
perfections in knowledge and in practice, to great 
learning, great wisdom, great virtue, ^thout ever 
having felt the least repugnance in their nature to 
interrupt them in their progress ; on the contrary 
their inclinations have been strengthenedy tbdr 
vivacity increased, from the very impulsion of their 
nature : but we may reasonably believe, that never 
man made a great progress in wickedness, so as to 
arrive at a mastery in it, without great interruption 
and contradiction from his natural, genius : inso- 
much as we see men usually take degrees in wicked- 
.ness, and come not to a perfection in it per salhun; 
which can proceed from nothing but the resistance 
it finds from the nature of man. And if we do 
seriously consider, how few men there are who en- 
deavour by art or industry to cultivate that portion 
which nature hath given them, to improve their 
understanding, and to correct any infirmity they 
may be liable to, by so much as abstaining from 
any vice which corrupts both body and mind ; we 
must conclude that they owe that which is good in 
themselves to nature, since they have nothing by 


their owi^ aoqaUition, We cannot justly be re- 
PKOfltcbedy that i« this ma^^ifying and extolling na- 
ture» we <io too much neglect and undervalue the 
Infloence of God'a g^'^M^s nature ia as much the 
cfieatipn of God as grace is; and it is his bounty 
that he cresited nature in that integrity, and hath 
slixoe restored it to that innooencCy or annexed that 
innocence to it, if it be not maliciously ravished, or 
let loose^ fh>m it. AU the particulars mentioned 
heiSore may properly be called the operation of na- 
ture, because they have beeu often found in those > 
who have had no light of grace, and may be still 
thpiiti^t to _be the supply of nature in those who 
seem not to walk by that light ; nor is the price of 
grace at all advanced, or the way to attain it made 
mere clear and easy, by aoch an affected contempt 
of nature, whidi makes us only capable of the 


Jersey, i64,7. 

** So teach us to number our days, that we may ap- 
ply our hearts unto wisdom," was the ejaculation 
of Moses, when he was in full contemplation of the 
pcovidenoe and power of God, and of the frailty and 
brevity of the life of man: And though, from the 
4;onsideratiou of our own time, the days allotted for 
our life, we cannot make any proportionable pro- 
spect toward the providence and power of God, no 
more than we can make an estimate of the large- 
ness and extent of^he heavens by the view of the 
.smalleat cottfige or molehill upon the earth; yet 
there cannot be a better expedient, at the least 

8 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

an easier, a thing we believe we can more easily 
practise, to bring ourselvjes to a due reverence 
of that providence, to a due apprehension of that 
power, and thereupon to a asefnl disposition of 
our time in this world, how frail and short so- 
ever it is, than by applying ourselves to this advice 
of Moses, to " learn to nnmbcfr our days."' There 
is not a man that reads, or hears this read, bnt 
thinks the lesson may be learned with little pains ; 
nay, that he hath it so perfect, that he needs not 
learn it ; and yet if the best of us would but fix our 
minds upon it, sadly " number our days," the days 
which we have or shall have in this world, we could 
not but, out of that one sing)e notion, make our- 
selves much the fitter for the next; and if the 
worst of us would but exercise ourselves in it, but 
*' number our days," we should even in spite of the 
worst cozen oursdves into some amendment of life, 
into some improvement of knowledge, into some re- 
formation of understanding : it wbuid not be in our 
power, nor in His who is ready to assist us in any 
evil, to continue so weak, so wilful, so iincked as 
we are; but we should insensibly find such an altera- 
tion, as, how much soever we, contemn now, we 
shall thank ourselves for obtaining. 

They who understand the original, tell us, that 
the Hebrew verb, which our interpreters translate 
into number, hath a very large signification, (as 
that language which is contracted into fewest words 
extends many words to a marvellous latitude of 
sense), and that as well as to number, it signifies* to 
weigh, and to ponder, and, thirdly, to wilder, and 
appoint { so that to number, or any other single 
word, I believe, in any other tongue, is far from 


expreeaing to the full the sense of ihat Hebrew 
verb ; except we could find a word that might sig- 
nify to reckon, to ejpamine, and cwttider the nature 
and the use of every unit in that reckoning, and 
then to order and appoint it accordingly. And no 
doubt it was such a numbering, with that circum- 
stance of deliberation, and the other of direction 
and determination, which Moses here prescribed ;_ 
md so the duty may seem larger, and at first more 
full of diiBculty, than it did ; and that we are not 
to rest n).ei«ly in the arithmetical sense of iU JSitt 
as the setting out is oftentimes more trouUeeome 
than the whole jevrney, and the first disposal of 
the mind to sobriety and virtue, is m(>re difficult 
than any progress »fter in it ; so if we but really 
and severely execute this injunction in the wmal 
and vulgar acceptation of the word, no more but 
'^ tmmber our days," by the rules of arithmetic, we 
ulunild malce a progress in the other acceptahioes 
too { and we should find evident comfort and be^ 
nefit from the fruit we should father iacom each of 
those branches. 

Without diminishing or lessening the value of a 
long life, with the meditation that a thousand years 
are but as yesterday in His sight who made the 
years and the days ; or that not only the longest 
life that ever any man hath lived, but even the life 
that the world hath lived since the creation, is but 
a moment in comparison of that eternity which 
most be either the reward or punishment of the 
actions of our life, how short soever it is : if we 
did but eo ^i number our days'* as to consider that we 
experimentally find the shortness of them; if we 
did but number the days we have lived, and by 

B 2 

10 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

that pregnant evidence of ^nr memory, how soon 
they are gone, and how insensibly, conclude how 
- very soon so much more time, which possibly would 
.bring ns to the utmost of Moses's account of eighty 
years, will likewise pass away ; we could not think 
the most sure and infallible purchase of twenty or 
thirty years of life, and the unquestionable fruition 
of the most heightened pleasures the appetite or 
fancy can imagine during that term, without any 
abatement by the interposition of the infirmities 
and weakness of nature^ or theinterruption' of ac- 

' cidents; so near worth the consenting to any thing 
that may impair the conscience, or disturb the 
peace or quiet sn the mind, that it were a valuable 
consideration for the interruption of a night's rest, 
for the parting with six hours. of our sleep ; which, 
though any man could spare, is so much time of 
our least faultinessr I say, it were not possible 
seriously to make this estimate in our thoughts, to 
revolve the uncertidnty and brevity of our life, but 

' we Should also take an account of ourselves, weigh 
and ponder the expense of every article of this 
short precious time, for which we must make so 
large and exact an account to Him that bath 
trusted us with it; we should not but (which is no 
more than the original verb for which we read fntm- 

,'b^ signifies) do, what one who we are not willing 
to believe as good a Christian as ourselves long 
since advised us, *' pretium tempori ponere, diem 
aestimare," consider that every hour is worth at least 
a good thought, a good wish, a good endeavour ; 
that it is the talent we are trusted with to use,* em- 
ploy, smd to improve : if we hide this talent in the 
dark, that the world cannot see any fruit of it, or 

OF LIFE.. ^ 11 

such fruit as we ourselves are afraid to see; if we 
bury it in the earthy spend it in worldly and sensual 
designs and attempts; we are those ungrateful and 
unthrifty stewards, who must expiate this breach of 
trust in endless torments. And if we were, gotten, 
thus, far, we could not but, in spite of the most de- 
prayed faculty of our understanding, of the most 
perverse inclination of our appetite, or. act of our 
will, order, and dispose of this time righf ;. which 
is t^e full extent of the word. So that in truth, if 
we do not weigh and consider to what end this life, 
is given to us, and thereupon order and dispose it 
right, pretend what we will to the Arithmetic, we 
do not, we cannot so much aSji^bfber our days in 
l^ihe narrowest and most limited signification, it is a 
sharp meditation and animadversion of one, whose 
writings are an honour to our nation, that the inces- 
sant and Sabbathless pursuit of a man's fortune and 
interest (although therein we could refrain from 
doing injaries or using evil arts] leaves not the 
tpbute of our time which we owe to Xiod, who de- 
mandeth we see a tenth of our substance, and a 
seventh (which is more strict) of our time; and 
{says he) it is to small purpose to have an erected 
face toward Heaven, and a grovelling spirit upon 
earth. If they who please themselves with believing 
that they spend their time the least amiss ; who 
have so far the negative practice of conscience, that 
they abstain from acts of inhumanity and injustice, 
and avoid doing harm to any body; nay, if they 
make such a progress into the active part of con- 
science, as to delight in the civil acts of humanity, 
aad the diffusive acts of^charity: I say, if this 
handful of the world that is thus innocent (and 


what' dismal acetmat wmst tha other part take of 
themselTes then) woold serifiady exaniiBe aad re> 
volfe the expense of their own time^'fliey w«mM 
eren wonder at the iittte good they find in them- 
selves, and not be able to tdl to the well-spendhig 
of what part of their time those good indina* 
tions are to be impnted. We thinic it a coramenda* 
Me thing (and vahie onrselres much npon it) to 
take great pains, to nse nrach industry, to make 
ourselves fine gentlemen, to get languages, to ieam 
arts ; it may be some for which we are the worse: 
and we acknowledge, that that is not to be done, 
nay, any exercise of the body to be learned, or the 
most mechanic trade, without great pains and m<* 
dUf(try ; but to make ourselves Christians, to know 
God, and what he expects from us, and what will 
be acceptable to him, we take not the least pains, 
use not the least industry. I am persuaded, if many 
of us, who have lived to good years, did faithfnUy 
compute in what' particular meditations and actions 
we have spent our time, we should not be able, 
amongst the years we have spent in pursuing onr 
pleasures, our. profits, our ambition, the days and 
nights we have dedicated to our lusts, our excesses, 
the importunities and solicitations we have used to 
mend our fortunes ; we should not be able to set 
down one hour for every year of our life, I fear not 
one hour for our whole life, which we have so* 
lemnly spent to mend our Christianity; in which 
we have devoutly considered the majesty and proia- 
dence and goodness of God, the reason and the end 
of our own creation,; that there is such a place as 
Heaven for the reward of those who do well, or 
hell for the punishment of the wicked ; for If we 

OF UIX. 13 

hlBd npemUkuA ose hour in tin contemplating those 
pntticiilan, which are the first and most general 
notkms of Christianity, at were not possible but we 
should be startled oat of onr lethaigic laziness, and 
should make some progress in the practice of Chris- 
tianity, as well as in those paths and roads that 
lead to onr pleasure or profit. What is this load- 
vertency and incojdtancy, but to belieTe that, as we 
received this badge of Christianity in our infiwcy 
wbea we knew not of it, so it will grow and in- 
crease upon us in our sleep and times of leisure, 
withont taking notice of it ? that the little water 
that was thrown upon our face in baptism, was 
enoagh to preserve the beauty of God's image in us, 
without any.adtUtion of moisture from ourselves^ 
eiiber by tears in our repentance, or so much as by 
sweat in our industry and labour ? and to declare to 
all the world, that we hold the life of a Christian to 
be nothing else, but spending so many days as na* 
tare allows us, in a climate where the gospel of 
Christ is suffered to bepreached» how little so- 
eter desired to be practised ? If we would so '* num- 
ber onr days," that is, so consider of them, as to 
order and dispose some pait of our time, one hour 
IB a day, one day in ten, but «to think of God, and 
what he hath done for us ; to remember that we 
are Christians, and the obligation that thereby lies 
npon us ; tiiat there wiU be a day of judgment, and 
that we must appear at that day: may 
be it would be a difficult thing at the first, in that 
set time, ta apply our unexercised and uninformed 
thoughts to so devout and religious an exercise as 
we should ; yet, I say, if we would but so set apart 
a time for that "purpose, as to resolve at that time 

14 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

constantly to do nothing else, bow perfdnctorily 
soever we did that, we should by degrees bring 
ourselves from sober and humble thoughts, to pious 
and godly thoughts, till we found ourselves grow- 
ing to perfect Christians, as to confess we were not 
worthy of that title before. 

Next the sadness of reriewing the expense of 
our time, in order to our service, of God, and the 
health and prosperity of our souls ; it is a melan- 
choly consideration how we spend our time with 
reference to ourselves, to the obtaining that which 
we most desire, to consider how our time goes from 
"Us ; for we are hardly active enough to be thought 
to spend it. We live rather the life of vegetatives 
or sensatives, suffer ourselves to grow, and please 
and satisfy our appetites, than the lives of reason- 
able men, endued with faculties to discern the na- 
tures and differences of things, and to use and 
govern both. There is not a man in the world, 
but desires to be, or to be thought Ho be, a wise 
man ; and yet, if he considered how little he cod« 
tributes himself thereunto, he might wonder to 
find himself in any tolerable degree of understand- 
ing. How many men are there, uay> in compari- 
son of mankind, how few are there but such, who 
since they were able to think, and could choose 
whether they would or no, never seriously spent 
two hours by themselves in so much as thinking 
what would make them wiser ; but sleep and eat 
and play, which makes the whole circle of theif 
lives,, and are not in seven years together (except 
asleep) one hour by themselves. It is a strange 
thing, to see the care and solicitude that is used 
to strengthen and cherish the body; .the study and 

OF LIPB. ^ V 15 

indnstry and skill to form and shape every member 
and limb to beauty and comeliness ; to teach the 
bands and feet and eyes the order and gracefvl- 
ness of motion ; to cure any defects of nature or 
accident, with any hazard and pain, insomuch . as 
we oftentimes see even those Of the weaker sex, 
and less inclined to suffering, willingly endure the 
breaking of a bone that cannot otherwise be. made 
straight*^ and sdl this ado bnt to make a haildsome 
and beautiful .person, which at best is but the pic- 
tare of a man or woman, without a wise soul : wh6n 
to the information and improvement of that jewel, 
which is the essence of man; and which unconsi- 
dered, even that which we so labour for and are 
prond of j our beauty and handsomeness, is by many 
degrees inferior to that of a thousand beasts and 
other creatures; to the cultivating and shaping 
and directing of the mind,jv^e give scarce a thought, 
not an hour of our life ; never suppress a passion, 
never reform an affection; insbmuch as (though 
never age had fewer wise men to shew to the world) 
we may justly wonder we are not all fools and 
idiots, when we consider how little we have con- 
tributed to make ourselves oflier: and ddubtless 
if nature (whom we are ready to accuse of all our 
weaknesses and perversenesses) had not out of her 
store botfntifully supplied ns,^ our own art and in- 
dustry would never have kept up our faculties io 
thatlittle vile hdght they are at. Neither in truth 
do many believe or understand that there needs any 
other diligence or art to be applied to the health of 
the mind, than the sober ordering and disposing of 
the body; and it is well if we can bring ourselves 
to that reasoni^le conclusion. ^ Whereas when we 

16 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

prescribe onrselvies a wholesome aud ordeiiy course 
of diet, for the strengtheniog of our natares, and 
ooafirming our healtlis ; if we would consider wbM 
diet to give our minds, what books to read for the 
informing and strengthening our understandings, 
and conclude that it is as imi^ossible for the mind 
to be improved without those supplies, as for the 
hody to subsist without its natural food : if, wfaca 
we allow ourselves recitations and exercises, to 
cherish and refi^sh our spirits, and to waste and 
d]S()el humours, without whidi a well-temptred 
constitution cannot be preserved, we would aSow 
some-exercises to our minds, by a sober and fauA 
eonvereation with learned, honest, and prudent 
men, whose informations, animivlversio&s, and ex- 
perience might remove and expel the vasidea and 
levities which inlect our understandings : if whea 
an indisposition or distemper of body, an ill habit 
of. health, calls upon us to take a rougher course 
with ourselves, to vomit up or purge away those 
choleric and phlegmatic and metancholic kumoars^ 
which burn and doy and suffocate the vital parts 
and passages ;. to let out that blood which is too 
rank, too corrupted for our veins, and to expd 
those fumes and vapours which hurt our stomachs 
and ascend to our brains : if we would, I Baiy, as 
diligently examine the distemper of our minds, re- 
volve the rage and fniy of our choler, the dtilness 
and laziness of our phlegm, the sullennes8 and pride 
of our melancholy ; if we would correct this affec- 
tion, and diREtw out that pas^on ; expel those fitmes 
and vapours of ambition which disturb and corrupt 
our reason and judgment, by sober and serious me>- 
dHatioB of the excellency «td benefit 4)f patience. 


sdacrity,,aDd contentedness ; that this affection and 
this passion is not consistent with sobriety and 
justice, and that the satisfying them with the ut- 
most licence brings neither ease nor quiet to the 
mindy which is not capable of any happiness bat in, 
at leasts not without, its own innocence; that am- 
bition always carries an insatiableness with it^ 
which is a torment to the mind, and no less a 
disease than that is to the stomach *. in a word, if 
we would consider, there is scarce a disease, an la- 
disposition, a distemper, by which the body is dis- 
tai%ed, to which, or some influence like it, the 
mind is not lisd^le lilcewise ; and that the remedies 
for the latter are much more natural, more in pur 
power,- than for the former ; if we would use but 
half the diligence and industry to apply them which 
we do to the other, we should find ourselves ano- 
ther kind of people, our understandings more vi- 
gorous, and our lives more innocent, useful, and 
beneiidal, to God, to ourselves, and to bur country; 
and we should think we had learned nothing, till 
we had learned <* so to number our days that we 
might apply our hearts unto wisdom ;" that wis- 
dom, of which the fear of the Lord is the begin- 
ning, and of which the eternal blessing of God is 
the end and the reward. 


MontpelUer, i&BQ. 
It was a very jiist reproach that Sene^ charged 
the world with so' many hundred years ago, and 


yet was not more the disease of that than of dui 
age» that we wcmder and complain of the pride and 
sapercilioQsness of those who are in place and an- 
thority above us ; that we cannot get an admittanoe 
to them ; that they are never at leisure that we msf 
speak to them ; when (says he) we are never va- 
cant, never at Idsnre to speak to omrselves ; ** Audet 
quispiam de alterias superbi^ qneri, qui sibi ipse 
ftUD<]nam vacat?" and after all complaints and 
murmurs, tha greatest and the proudest of thoa 
will be sometimes at leisure, may be sometimes 
spoken with ; '' aliquando respexit, tu non inspi- 
cere te unquam,- non audire dignatus es;" we can 
never get an audience of ourselves, never vouchsafe 
to confer together. We are diligent and carious 
enough to know other men ; and it may be cha- 
ritable enough to assist them, to inform their 
weakness by our instruction, and to reform their 
errors by our experience: and all this witboQt 
giving one moment to look into our own, never 
make an inspection into ourselves, nor ask <me Of 
those questions of ourselves which we are ready to 
administer to others, and thereby imagine liiat we 
have a perfect knowledge of them. We live with 
other men, and taothe*^ men ; neither with nor to 
ourselves. We may sometimes be at home left to 
ourselves, when others are weary of us, and we are 
weary of being with them ; but we do not dwell at 
home, .have no commerce, no conversation with 
ourselves, nay, we keep spies about us that we may 
not have; and if we feel a suggestion, hear an im- 
portunate call from within, we divert it by company 
or quiet it with sleep; and when we wake, no man 
runs faster from an enemy than we do from onr* 


selves, g<et to our friendR that we may not be with 
ourselves. This is not wiy an epidemicaJt disease 
that ^reads every where, hat effected and pin^ 
chased at as great a price as inost .other of onr 
diseases, with t^ expense of aU our precious- tiibe ; 
one moment of which we^are not willing to bestow 
npcm oarselves, though it would make the remain- 
der of it more useful to us, and to others upon 
whom we prodigally consume it, without doing 
good to them or oiurselves : whereat^, if we would 
be conversant with ourselves, and as ingenuous and 
impartial in that conversation as we pretend to be 
with other men^ we should find that we have very 
orach of that at home by us, which we take won** 
derfnl unnecessary pains to get abroad ; and thai 
we have much of that in our own disposal, which 
we endeavour to obtain from others; and possess 
onraelves of that happiness from ourselves, whether 
it concerns our ambition or any other of our most 
exorbitant passions or affections, which more pro- 
voke and less satisfy by resorting to other men, who 
are either not wilting to gratify us, or not able to 
ooihply with our desires; and the trouble and 
agony, which for the most. part accompanies those 
disappmntments, proceed«i merely -from oar not 
beginning with ourselves before we repsdr to 

It is not the purpose and end of this discourse, 
to raise such sera[^ical notions of the vanity and 
pldBsnres of this vi^rld, as if they were not worthy 
to be considered, or could have no relish with vir- 
tuous and pious men. They take very unprofitable 
pains, who endeavour to persuade men that they 
are obliged wholly to despise this world and ail 


that Is in it, even whilst they themselves live here: 
God hath not taken all that pains in forming and 
framing and fnrnislung and adorning this world, 
that they who were made by him to live in it should 
despise it ; it will be enough if they do not love it 
so immoderately, to prefer it before Him who made 
it : nor shall we endeavour to extend the notions 
of the Stoic philosophers, and to stretch them far- 
ther by the help of Christian precepts, to the extin- 
guishing all (hose affections and passions, which 
are and will always be inseparable from human nt^ 
tnre; and which it* were to be wished that many 
Christians could govern and suppress and regulate, 
as well as many of those heathen philosophers 
used to do. As long as the world lasts, and honour 
and virtue and industry have reputation in the 
world,- there will be ambition and emulation and 
appetite in the best and most accomplished men 
who'live in it; if there should not be, more barba- 
rity and vice and wickedness would cover .every 
nation of the world, than it yet suffers under. ' If 
wise and honest and virtuously-disposed men quit 
the field, and leave the world to the pillage, and 
the manners of it to the deformation of persons 
dedicated to rapine, luxury, and injustice, , how 
savage must it grow in half an age! nor will the 
best princes be able to govern and preserve their 
subjects, if the best men be without ambition and 
desire to be employed and trusted by them. The 
end therefore of this speculation into ocfirselves, 
and conversation with ourselves, is, that we may 
make our journey towards that which we do pro- 
^pose with the more success ; that we may be dis- 
creet in proposing reasonable designs, and then 


panne them by reasoDable ways; foresee all the 
difficalties which are probable to fall out, that ,so 
-we may prerent or avoid them ; since we may be 
sare to master and avoid them to a great degree 
by foreseeing* them, and as sure to be confounded 
by them, if they fall upon us without foresight. In 
a wordy it is not so to consult with ourselves, as to 
consult with nobody else ; or to dispose us to pre- 
fer our own judgment before any other man's : but 
first, by an impartial conference with ourselves, we 
may understand first our own mind, what it is 
-we would have, and why we would have it, before 
we consult with others which way to compass, it, . 
that we may set both the matter we desire and the 
manner of obtaining it before our own eyes, and 
spend our passions upon ourselres in the disqui- 

It is no wonder that when we are prodigal of 
nothing else, when we are over-thrifty of many 
things which we may well spare, we are very pro- 
digal of our time, which is the only precious jewel 
of which we cannot be too thrifty, because we look 
upon it as nothing worth, and that makes us not 
care how we spend it. The labouring man and 
the artificer knows what every hour of his time is 
worth, what it will yield him, and parts net with 
it but for the full vidne : they «re only noblemen 
and gentlemen, who should know best how to use 
it, that think it only fit to be cast away ; and their 
not knowing how. to set a true vaTue upon tKis, is 
the true cause of the wrong estimate they make of 
all other things ; and their ignorance of that prO' 
ceeds only from their holding no correspondence 
with themselves, or thinking at all before they be- 


gin tbelr journey, before tbef violently set their ' 
affections npon this or that object^ until they find 
they are out of the way, and meet with false gnida 
to carry them farther out. We should find much 
ease in our pursuits, and probably much better suc- 
cess in our attempts and enterprises in the world, 
if, before we are too solicitous and set our heart 
npoii any design, we would well weigh and consi- 
der the true value of the thing we desire, vrhetfaer 
ft be indeed worth all that trouble we shall be pat 
to, and all the time we are like to spend in the ob- 
u^ng it, and upon it after we have obtained it : 
if this inquisition ddth not divert us, as it need not 
to do, it will the better prepare and dispose us to 
be satisfied after we have it ; whereas nothing is 
more usual than for men who succeed tn their most 
impatieut pi'etences, to be more unsatisfied with 
their success than tliey were before ; it is not worth 
what they thought or were persuailed it would be^ 
so that their appetite is not at all allayed, nor thdr 
gratitude provoked, by the obligatio<i ; a little pre- 
vious consideratioii would have better ^tted the 
mind to contentedness npon the issue, or diverted 
it from ' affecting what would not be acceptable 
when obtained, in the next place, we should do 
well prudently to consider, whether it be probable 
that we shall obtain what we desire, before we 
engage our affections and our passions too deeply in 
the prosecution of it ; not that we may not law- 
fcdly affect and prosecute an interest in which it is 
very probable we may not succeed. Men who al- 
ways succeed in what they go about, are often the 
worse for their success ; however, we are not na^ 
turaUy delighted with repulses, and are oommonly 


angry and sottisbly offended with those who obtain 
that for themselves which we would fain have, and 
as nnreasonably with (hose who favour them, tli^gh 
their merit be above our own $ and therefore, be^ 
sides the considerati<ai of the probability that we 
may be disappointed of our end, we shall do well to 
oonsider likewise the opposition we are like to meet 
in the way, the power of those persons who art like 
to dis&vour onr pretences, and whether o«r ex* 
posing ourselves to their displeasure may i^ot be a 
greater damage than the obtaining all that we de» 
sire wiU recompense. These and the like reflecdons 
will cost us very litHe time, but infinitely advaood 
and Improve our understanding; and if we then 
conclude it fit to pndceed, we shall do it with con* 
fidence, and be distuited with no accident which 
encounters us, and be prepared to behave ourselves 
decently upon the i<epulse, which oftentimes prefers 
men better than tliey wished ; a virtuous mind ap- 
pearing with more lustre in the rejection than in 
the reception of good turns, and consequently re- 
conciling him to those who knew him not enough 

These consideratkms will be. most impartially 
and oncerdy debated with ourselves, yet they may 
be properly enough and usefully consulted with 
very true and faithftil fiiends, if indeed we abound 
witii such treasure. But there is another cod- 
sideradon so proper and peculiar for ourselves, and 
to be estactly weighed by ourselves, that the most 
fedthfiil friend is rarely faithful enough to be trusted 
enough in the disquisition, and, whidh is worst of 
aU, we do not wish or desire that he should be 
Mthfol ; that is, whether we are in truth fit and 

24 LORD clarendon's . ESSAYS. 

worthy of the thing we do affect ; if it be an honour, 
whether it b& not too great for us ; if it be an office, 
whether we are eqnal to it ; that is, fit and capable 
to discharge and execute it, or can malce ourselves 
so by the industry and diligence we are like to coo- 
tribute towards it : this is the examination we 
come with least ingeniu^y to, and friends are in- 
genuous in assisting us in ; and yet is of that im- 
portance, that much of the happiness of our life 
consists in it, many having been made unhappy and 
even very miserable by preferment, who were in 
good reputation without it. Tully makes it a ne- 
cessary ingredient in, or a necessary contomitant 
of friendship itself, ''Tantum cuique tribaendum 
est, primum, quantum ipse efflcere possis, deinde 
etiam quantum quem dlligas atque adjuves, possit 
Sttstinere;" it is a very imprudent and unjust thing 
to oblige a friend to do that out of his friendship 
to thee, which either he cannot do, or not without 
great prejudice to himself; but it is an impudent 
violation of friendship, to impprtune him to pro« 
cure a favour to be conferred upon thee which 
thou canst not sustain ; to put the command of a 
ship Into thy hand, when thou knowest neither the 
compass nor the rudder. There are as great incon- 
gruities and incapacities towards the execution of 
many offices, which do not appear so gross to the 
first discovery. This scrutiny cannot be so rigidly 
and efiectually made without well weighing, in the 
first place, the infinite prejudice that befalls our- 
selves, if we are incoihpetent for that place or office 
which we have by much solicitation obtained, and 
the unspeakable and irreparable prejudice we have 
brought upon our friends who oUtsuued it for us. 


How many men have we known, who, from a. rc- 
servedness in their nature, have been thought to 
observe much, and by. saying little have been be- 
lieved to know much; but when they have got 
themselves into an office, and so been compelled to 
speak and direct, have appeared weak and ignorant, 
and incapable of performing their duty; and so 
must either be removed, to their own shame and 
reproach, or be continued, to the public detriment 
and dishonour .? How much better had it been for 
such men to have remained unknown and secure 
under the shadow of their friends' good opinion, 
than to have been exposed to the light, and made 
known only by the discovery of their incredible ig- 
norance ! We have known many men who, in a 
place to which they have been unhappily promoted, 
have appeared scandalously insufficient ; but being 
removed to another have discharged it with notable 
abilities : yet there wasjaothing new in himself; if 
he had asked advice of himself, he would have 
known all that hath fallen out since so much to his 
prejudice. He who hath credit with his prince, or 
with his friend, to prefer or recommend a man to 
his near and entire trust, hath a great trust him- 
self reposed in him, which he is obliged to dis- 
charge with the utmost circumspection and fidelity ; 
and if he be swayed by the confidence and impor- 
tunity, or corrupted by his own affection, and re- 
commends thee to an emplo3rme!nt, which when 
thou art possessed of thou canst not discharge, with 
what confusion must he look upon him whom he 
bath deceived and betrayed, or can he ever look 
again to'be depended upon or advised with upon the 
I like aflair ? Doing good offices and good turns (as 


men call it) looks like the natural eiliect of a mkk 
and a generons nature. Indeed tbe incUnatiOD to 
it is an argument of generosity ; but a precipitate 
entering npon the work itself, and embracing all op- 
portunities to gratify the pretences of nnwary men, 
is an evidence of a light and easy natare, disposed, at 
Other men's charges, to get himself w^ iqioken of. 
They who revolve these particulars, cannot bm 
think them worthy a very serions examinattoo ; and 
must discern, that by entering into this fttriet con- 
sultation with themselves in or before the ban- 
ning of any business, they sliall prevent much trou- 
ble and labour which they shall not be ahle after- 
wards to avoid : nor can they prudently or so suc- 
cessfully consult with others, before they first de- 
Ui>erate with themselves the very method and man- 
ner of communicating with another, how urach a 
friend soever/ what concerns one's self requiriag as 
much consideration as the matter itself. But there 
is another benefit and advantage that remits from 
this intercourse and acquaintaace with ourselves, 
more considerable than any thing which hath been 
said, which is, that from this coouaumicatiOii he 
takes more care to ailtivate and improve himaelf, 
that he may be equal and worthy of that trust 
which he reposes in himself, and fit to consult with 
and govern himself by; he gets as much informa- 
tion from books and wise men, as may enable him 
to answer and determine those doubtful questions 
which may arise"; he extinguishes that eholer and 
prejudice which would interrupt him in hearing, 
and corrupt him in judging what he hears. H is a 
notable injunction that Seneca Imposes, who knew 
as weir as any man what man could bring hlmselC 


U>, *' Dam te efficis eum» coram qw3 peocare non 
audeas;" the truth is, he bath too little reverenoe 
for himself^ who dares fk> that in his own presence^ 
which he.wo«ld be ashamed, or not dare to do be- 
fore another man ^ and It is for want of acqusunt- 
wice with onrselveSy and rerolving the dignity of 
our creation, that we are without that reve* 
renoe. Who, that doth consider how near he ia <tf 
kin to God himself, and how excellently he is quali- 
fied by him to judge aright* of all the delusions and 
Uppearancea of the world, if he will employ thoao 
foeiiltlefl be hath adorned him v^th ; that nobody is - 
9ble to deceive him, if he doth not concur and coa- 
tribute to the deceiving himaelf t I say, who can 
eottsider and we^ this, and at the same time bury 
all those faculties of the discerning soul in sensual 
Ipieasures, laziness, and senseless inactivity, and a^ 
BSDcK as in his power, and God knows there is too 
nrach in his power, to level himself with the beasts 
that perisb ? It is a foolish excuse we make upon 
all occasions for ourselves and other men, in our 
iabonred and exalted acts of folly and madness, 
that we can be no wiser than God hath made ns^ 
as if the defects in our will were defects, in his pro^ 
▼ideoce ; when in truth God hath given us all th^ 
we will mihke ourselves capable of, that we will re-i^ 
fdve from him. He hath given us life, that 14 
time, to ms^e ourselves learned, to make ourselves 
wise, to make us discern and judge of all the my- 
steries of the world : if we will, bestow this time, 
wbich would supply ua with wisdom and knowledge. 
In wine and women, which corrupt the little under- 
standing that nature hatli given us ^ if we will bar- 
ter it away for skill in bones, dogs, and hawks ^ 

28 LORD clarendon's fiSSAVS. 

and if we will throw it away in play and gaming; it 
If from our own yillany that we are fools, and hate 
itjected the effects of his proridence. It is no wiser 
8naUegation> that our time is our own, and we may 
use it as we please t there is nothing so much our 
own that we may use it as wc please ; we cannot 
use our money, which is as much, if not more, oar 
own than any thing yre have, to raise rebellion 
against our prince, or tq hire men to do mischief to 
our neighbours ; we cannot use oiir bodies, which, 
if any thing, are our own, in duels or any unlawful 
' enterprize : and why should we then belieye that 
we have so absolute and sovereign a disposal of our 
time, that we may choose whether we wiU dispose 
it to any thing or no ? It were to be wished that 
aU men did belieye, which they have all great reason 
to do^ that the consumption and spending of our 
time will be the great inquisition of the last and 
terrible day ; when there shall be a more strict en* 
quiry how the most dissolute person, the most de- 
bauched bankrupt, spent his time, than how he 
spent his'estate ; no doubt it will then manifestly 
appear, that our precious time was not lent os to 
do nothing with, or to be spent upon that which is 
worse than nothing; and we shall not be more 
confounded with any thing, than to find that there 
is a perfect register kept -of all that we did in that 
time ; and that when we have scarce remembered 
the morrow what we did yesterday, there is a diary 
in which nothing we did^is left out, and as much 
notice taken when we did nothing at aU. This will 
be a sad animadversion when it is too lace, and 
when probably it may appear that the very idle man 
he who hath never employed himself, oiay be in a 


Tery little better condition tban he who hath been 
worst employed ; when idleness shall be declared 
to be a species of wickedness, and-doing nothing ta 
be the activity of a beast. There ^cauinot therefore 
be too serious or too early a reflection upon the 
good husbandry of this precious talent, which we 
are entrusted with, not to be laid out in vain plei^ 
sures whereof we are ashamed as soon as we have 
enjoyed them, but in such profitable exchanges that 
there may be some record of our industry, if there 
be none of our getting; 

The truth is, if iucogitauce and tnadyertenoe, 
not thinlcing at all, not considering any thing 
(which is degrading ourselves as much as is in our 
power from being men, by renouncing the feodties 
of a reasonable soul) were not our mortal disease, 
it might be believed that the consumption of our 
time proceeds only from the contempt we have of 
wisdom and virtue ; fof in order to any thing else 
we employ it well enough. How can we pretend 
that we desire to be wise, when we do no one thing 
that is in order to it ; or that we love virtue, when 
we do not cultivate any one affection that would 
advance it, nor subdue any one passion that 
destroys it? We see the skill and perfection in 
the meanest and lowest trade is obtuned by in- 
dustry and instruction and obsenration, and that 
with all that application very much time is neoes* 
sary to it ; and caii we believe that wisdom, which 
is the greatest perfection and highest operation of 
the soul, can be got without industry and la- 
bour ? Can we hope to find gold upon the sur- 
face of the earth, when we dig almost to the centre 
of it to find lead and tin and the* coarser metals ? 
It is very wonderful, if it be^not very ri<Uculou8, to 

30 i;.ORD clarendon's essays. 

see a man take great paiDS to learn to dance, and 
not to be at leisure to learn t6 read ; that man 
should set a verf high esteem npon the decent mo- 
tion and handsome figure of the body, aind nnder- 
▼aiae the' mind so much as not to think it worth 
any pains or consideration to. improre the faculties 
thereof, or to contribute to its endowments ; and 
yet all men's experience supplies them with evidence 
enough, that the excellent symmetry of the body, a 
very handsome outside of a man, doth too ft^equeutly 
isxpose men to derision and notorious contempt, 
when so gross defects of the mind are discovered, 
as make the other beauty less agreeable by being 
Jnore ronarkable : whereas, on the contrary, the 
beauty of the mind doth very frequently reconcile 
the eyes and ears of all men to the mbst unpro- 
mising countenances, and to persons nothing be- 
holden to nature for any comeliness ; yet the wis- 
dom and gravity of their word» in persuading and 
^convincing, and the sincerity and virtue of their 
actions,, extort an esteem and reverence from all 
kind of men, that no comely and graceful outside^ 
of a man could ever attain to. It is not to be 
wished, that men took less care of their boHies than 
they do ; they cannot be too solicitous to preserve 
their health, and to confirm it, by preventing those 
diseases which the excess and corruption of hu- 
moiTTS are naturally the causes of, with timely phy- 
Ac and seasonable application of remedies, and, 
above all, by strict anH wholesome diet ; health is 
so inestimable a blessing and benefit, that we can- 
not take too much pains, nor study too much, to 
6l)tain and preserve it : but the grief is, that the 
whole care is laid oiit for the body, and none at all 
ibrthe mind $ that we %re so jealous of every altera* 


ttoA in oor ceBstkatioD,of every light indisposition 
of oor body, that we too commonly apply Cures 
whea there are noTiiBeates, and cause tiie stckness 
Mre ^roald prevent : when, at the same time, there 
are twenty visible diseases and distefnpers of our 
mlad, which we never look after nor take care of, 
though they would foe more easily cured than the 
other, and being cured, would yield that infinite 
pleasure and satisfac^on to the body, that sicknev 
itself could no< deprive it of. Dost thou find iA- 
siness and excess of sleep afiect thy body ? And 
dost tfaov ftnd exercise and moderate labour revive 
thy spirits, and increase thy appetite? Examine 
thy mind, whether it hath not too mudi emptiness^ 
whether it can cogitandi ferre lafforem, whether it 
can bear the fatigue of thinking, and produce any 
conclnsion from thence ; and then administer a fit 
diet of bbolcs to it, and let it take air and exercise 
in honest and cheerfid conversation, with men that 
can descend and bow their natures and their, under- 
standings to the capacity and to the indisposition 
and weakness of other men. A sour and morose 
conH)anion is as unnatural a prescription to such a 
patient, as the exercise of tenuis is to a man who 
liath ttroken a vein, when any violent ^motion may 
foe mortal, if thy mind be loose, and most delighted 
with vain and unclean discourses and unchaste de- 
sires, prescribe it a diet of contemplation upon the 
parity of the nature of God, and the injunction he 
hath given us to live by, and the frequent conquest 
men have made thereby upon their own most coi'- 
mpt and depraved affections; and let it' have its 
exercise and recreation with men of that severity^ 
that restrain all ill discourse by the gravity of their 


32 LORD clarendon's Bfi8AY8< 

presence, and yet of that candour as may make them 
agreeable to those who must by degrees be brought 
to iQve them, and to find another kind'of pleasure,' 
yet pleasure that hath ^ greater relish in their com- 
pany, than in those they have been most accustomed 
to. Men give over the diseases of themind as incura- 
ble ; call them iuftrmities of nature, which cannot be 
subdued, hardly corrected ; or substantial parts of 
nature, that cannot be cut off, or divided from o«r 
humanity ; that anger is the result of a generous 
nature, that will not, ought not to submit to in- 
juries and affionts ; that lust is so inseparable fipom 
our nature, that nothing but want of health csm 
'allay it; that there is no other way to cure the 
disease but to kill the patient ; that it proceeds not 
from any virtuous habit of the mind, where these 
natural affections and appetites do not prevadl, bat 
from some depraved constitution of the body, which 
stifles and suppresses those desires, for want of that 
moisture and heat that should nourish them ; and 
that' conscience hath no more to do in the conquest, 
than courage hath an operation in him who takes 
an enemy prisoner who lies prostrate at his feet : 
whereas all those, and other diseases of the mind, 
for diseases they are, are much more curable than 
those of the body, and so much the more as they 
are most subject to our own administration ; when 
we must resort to the skill and ability of other men 
to devise and compound proper remedies for the 
other cure. Many accidents of heat or cold or diet, 
or the very remedies prescribed, very often make 
the diseases of the body incurable, and the re- 
covery impossible; whereas the application to the 
mind^ though unskilfully and unseasonably made, 


does no faarm if it does no good, and tlie mind 
remains still as eajiabie of- tMe same or other 
medicines as it was before. Nor is there any 
enormous oc nnmly infirmity so annexed to or 
rooted in our nature, bat that the like bath been 
6'eqnently serered from or eradicated out of it^ 
by virtaoas and conscientious precepts and prac-^ 
tioe ; and every man's ob^erration and experience 
sapplies faim with e»impl6i enough, of men far 
from, sobriety, who, to comply with some in-^ 
finnity, have forliom all wine and intemperance 
for some months ; and of others of no restrained 
appetites, who,, upon the obligation of a promise or 
virtuous rescdution^ hare abstained a longer time 
from any acts of uncleanness ; and whosoerer can 
impose such a law upon himself for so many months, 
can do the same for so many yean ; a fiiin and 
magnanimous resolution can exercise that discipline 
upon the mind, that it shall never make any ex- 
cursions from reason and good behaviour. If they 
can be brought but IsAwem fefte cogitandi, the 
worst is ovcFy^and their recovery is net desperate. 

Since then it is and may be made evident enough, 
that the greatest infirmities and defomdties of thf 
mind may be refiomied and ^rectified ^ by industry 
and reasonable appHcatioDS, there can be but onle. 
reason v^ there is so little used in those cases, 
since all men desire to be wise, or to be reputed 
wise; atnd that is, that there is nti need of it : na- 
ture^s store and provision is sufficient ; conversation 
witli witty men, and an ordinary observation of the 
current and conduct of business, will make men as 
wise as they need to be ; and the affectation of 
hooka doth but introdnee pedtetry into the* man- 


34 ;losd clarendon's bmayi. 

Ben of meu, and make them impertinent and 
troublesome; that men of great learning in books 
are frequently found to be the most incompetent 
judges or advisers in the inost important trans- 
actions of the affairs of. the world, and of the in- 
terest of states. And by this unreasonable jolly 
discourse, and contempt of the learned languages, 
there seems to be a combination entered into agunst 
learning, and against any such education as may 
dispose them to it ; as if the excellent endowments 
of nature would be eclipsed by reading books, and 
would hinder them from learning more in the com- 
pany they might ke^p than they can obtain from 
other, and that the other method makes them men 
much sooner : and upon this ground, which hath 
gotten too much countenance in the world, the uni- 
versities and inns of court, which have been the 
seminaries out of which our ancestors have grown 
to be able to serve their country with great repu- 
tation and success, are now declined as places ^hlch 
keep hopefril youth too long boys, and infect, them 
with formalities and impertinent knowledge, of 
which they shall have little use, and send them out 
late and less prepared for and inclined to those 
generous qualifications, which are most like to raise 
their fortunes and their reputations. Which sure 
is a very great error, and hath been the source from 
whence many mischie£9 have flowed. And to speak 
first of this extolled breeding in good company, and 
travel into foreign parts before they know any thing 
of their own country; and getting the vice and tfa6 
language of that, before they can secure themselves 
frmn the one, or understand their own native 
tongue s we have the knowledge and experience of 



uany, who have' indeed the coniidence aud pre- 
sumption of men, hat retain 'the levity and folly of 
cMldren : and if they are able to disguise those 
weaknesses,' and appear in their behaviour and 
disoonnse earlier men than others of their age seem 
to be (as it mi|ny times foils ont, especially in men 
endowed with any principles of modesty,) yet those 
very early men decay apace, for want of nonrtih- 
ment at the roots ; and we Um^ frequently aee' those 
who seem men at twenty years of age, when the 
guety of their youth decays, and themselves grow 
weary of those eserdses and vanities ifriiich.then 
became them, become boys at thirty; having no 
snpply of parts for business, or grave and sober 
conversation, they then grow .out erf love with them- 
selves, and too soon lament those defects and im- 
potency in themselves, which nothing bat some de- 
gree of learning and acqaaintance with hocka could 
have prevented. And to say that they can fall to it 
afterwards, and recover the time they have lost 
when they will, is no more reasonable (though 
there have been some very rare examples of such 
iadostry}' than to imagine that a man, after iie is 
forty years of age, may learn to danee as wdl as if 
he had begun it sooner. He who loves not books 
before he comes to thirty y^ars of age, will hardly 
love them enough afterwwds to. understand them. 
The conversation with wise and good men cannot 
be overvalued ; it forms the mind and understand- 
ing for noble and heroical undertakings^ and is 
much to be preferred liefore the mere learning of 
books, in onler to be wise; but where a good 
foundation of the knowledge and understanding of 
boolu is first Uid, to support the eaoeUent super- 


strnctare of sucli confentiidon, tlie advaace mast 
he ttade mvch more adwDta^eoaslf , tiian wben 
Botblog Imt the «rdifiary eadowmeiits of nature are 
brought to be cultivated by co av e iiati oo ; wiiidi Is 
ooBBiooly <^08eii with- men of the same talents, 
who gnu^ one another M4th hetieriog that they 
want not any extraordinary iaaproTement, and so 
join together in censuring and condemning what 
they do not unders^d^ and think that men have 
only better Ibrtune tlum they who have got credit, 
without bring in any degree wiser thui themsc^res* 
It is very troe, there have been very extraordi* 
nary men in all nations, who, by their great ezpe- 
rience, and a notable vinMsity of spirit, have not 
only attained to eminent promotion, bnt have been 
flseeedingly w»rthy of it ; albeit they have been 
upon the matter ilHterate, as to the learning of 
books and the learned languages; bat then they 
have been eminent industrious; who, having had 
the good fortune to be educated in constant labour, 
under wise and experienced men, have, by iude> 
fatsgable pains and observaticm, gotten the learning 
of business without the learning of books, and can- 
not properly be accounted illiterate, though they 
know Httle Latin or Greek. We speak of boolcs 
and learning, not of the language in whidi they are 
writ. The French and the Italian and the Spanish 
have many excellent books of all kinds ; and they 
who are well, versed in those languages, may be 
very, learned, though they know no others : and 
the truth is, the Fivnch, whether by the fertility of 
their language, or the happy industry of many -ex- 
cellent persons, have traiMlated most good authors v 
both of the Greek and Latin, with that admirable 


fiudMty, that little of the spirit and rigour eten of 
the sCjle of the beitt writers is diminished; m ad* 
vantage the Eeglish industry and cariosity lialh not 
yettyronght home to that nation: they who have 
peribrmed that office hitherto, for tbe most pan, 
hanng done it for profit, and to live, without any 
ddight in the paine they take ; and though they* 
may liave had some competent Itnowledge. of the 
language out of which they have translated, haxe 
been very far fro^ undei^tanding their own mother- 
tongue, andt>eing versed in -the fmitfui prodnctieBs 
of the English language. But though learning may 
be thus attained by many- nations in their own pro- 
per dialect, and the language of their own country, 
yet few men who talce the puns to search for it in 
their own, but have the curiosity to look into th<f 
original, and are conversant in those which are still, 
and still will be, called the learned languages ; nor 
is yet any man eminent for knowledge and learning* 
that was not conversant in other tongues besides 
his own; and it may be those two necessary 
sciences^ that is, the principles of them, grammar 
ami logic, can very hardly be so well and conve- 
niently taught and understood as by Latin. It sh&ll 
serve my turn, and I shall wilBngly comply with 
and gratify our beloved modem education. If tliey 
take the pains to read good books in that language 
they understand best and like most ; I had almost 
said, if they will read any books, be so much alone 
as reading employs ; if they will take as much puns 
to be wise and polish their minds, as they do to 
order and dispose their clothes and their hur ; if 
they vrill put that construnt upbn themselves in 
Older to be learned, as they do to attain to a per« 

38 LORD clarendon's B8SAY8, 

fection in any bodily exercipe ; and, lastly^ which is 
worth all the rest, if they will as heartily endeavoar 
to please God, as they do those for whom they hare 
no great affection, every great man whose favour 
they solicit, and affect being good ChristiauSy as 
much as they do to be fine gentlemen, they riudt 
find their labour as much less, as their reward and 
recompense will be greater. If they will not do 
this, they must not take it ill if it be believed, that 
they are without knowledge that their souls are to 
outlive their bodies ; and that they do not so much 
wish to go to Heaven, as to get the next bet at 
play, or to win the next horse*race they are to 

To conclude : If books and industry will not con- 
tribute to their being wise, and to their salvation, 
they will receive from it (which they value more) 
pleasure and refreshment in this world ; they. vnH 
nave less melancholv in the distress of their for- 
tune, less anxiety in the mortification of sickness ; 
they will not so much complain for want of com- 
pany, when all their companions forsake them ; 
their age will be less grievous unto them; and 
Ood may so bless it, without' any intention of their 
own^ that such thoughts may insensibly insinuate 
themselves into them, that they may go out of the 
world with less dismal apprehensions, and conclude 
their neglected lives with more tranquillity of spirit, 
at least not be so much terrified with the approach 
of death, as men who have never entertained any 
sober thoughts of life have used to be^ and naturally 
loust be. 


If It be too ^reat a mastery to pretend to, over oar 
own passions and affections, to restrain tfaem' from 
carrying us into any unlawful desire, and from suf- 
fering that desire to hurry u£ into some unlawful 
acdoii, whi^h is less perfection than every good 
Christian is obliged to endeavour to arrive at ;, if 
some sin knock so loud and so impetuously at -onr 
breastyor our blOod, that it even forces its entrance, 
in spite of any resistance we can make for the pre- 
sent, let it at least find such a reception as we 
would give to an enemy, who doth in truth enter 
into our habitation by force, though he doth sub- 
due us; let it not have the entertainment of a 
friend, of a companion for whose presence we were 
solicitous : if we want power and strength to re- 
ject it, let us dismiss it with such a rudeness, that 
it may not promise it a better welcome and recep- 
tion. It was some d^ree of modesty in Job's adul- 
terer, (xxiv. 25.) wiTen his " eye w^ted for the 
twilight, saying, Ncdeye shall see me, and disguised 
his faure," that he was so far as^hamed of the sin lie 
acted, that he desired to conceal the suspicion of it 
from other men ; though he had the guilt within 
himself, he. abhorred the being made an example to 
corrupt others. Whilst there is any shame remain- 
ing upon the spirit of a transgressor, any blush dis- 
covers itself after the guilt, there is hope of the 
subduing and conqu<^ng that temptation ;. and that 
at last it may gro^^^ib such a detestation of the 
trans^ssion itself,' and of himself for transgressing, 
that it may even recover his lost innocence, that is. 

40 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

repair the state and integrity of it.- The most severe 
philosopher^ who thought hamiu lutture strong 
enough to suppress and extinguish all temptation, 
bad yet great compassion for him, ^* q«l adhnc 
peccare erubescit ;" he thought it worth the care 
of philosophy itself, *' ut niitrieBdus esset hie 
pqdor/' that this disinclination and bashfiiliiess 
towards vice shdold be so cherished and nourished, 
that it should not discover itself to be discerned un- 
der ny other notion than of pure idrtue, tiH it le* 
jcovered strength enough to 'be so ; and without 
doubt, whilst this bashfalness possesses any place 
in us, till the custom and malice of sol hath totally 
subdued the shame for sinning, there is a war kept 
up that may. drive sin from every comer and an|de 
of our hearts : and it may be, there have not been 
more mea recovered and reformed by the counsels 
and animadversions of others, than by their own 
severe recollections, and reflections upon their own 
transgressions, and their own observations of the 
nature and insinuation of sin, and of the unquiet* 
ness and uneasiness of it, eve^ when, it is eom|died 
with, and of the restlessness aad importunity of it 
after it is satisfied ; ^* Ipsse voluptates eorum tepidai 
et variis teiToribus inquietae sunt, subitque, cum 
masime exsultant, solicita expectatio ; Haec quam 
diu ?" They who hearken to the voice of their own 
consciences, and take notice of the reluctance of 
their own spirit in thie very moment they enjoy the 
pleasures they most delight in, need no other re- 
membrancers, and easily d|^tangle themsehres 
from all its allurements. But. alas ^ we live in as 
a^e. wherein vice is not taught so perfunctorily, as 
to be in danger to be dislodged after it is once en« 


tered and received ; the devil is too good a busbandy 
toveotare a belotol sin upon a constitution capab^. 
of being ashamed ^of his guests ; be secures himself 
in that pointy by choosing such proselytes as will 
first brag of having committed some notorious slnSy 
before he admits them to the pleasure and ,guilt ot 
them, that so the shame of being discovered to be 
liars may harden their faces against ail other shame ; 
the fome of being eminently wicked hath masteijpd 
and suppressed the infancy of it ; and many would 
rather be without the pleasure of the sins they 
moat delight in, than without the pleasure of pub-- 
lishing and bragging of them after the commitment ; 
as if there would be too much innocence left, if 
there should not be an equal proportion of impu- 
dence planted in its place. This is it which makes 
us excel in all lewdness, and our youth doctors in 
those toulties of wickedness, which were under- 
stood i& former times by some few discarded ruf- 
fianSj who were banished the conversation of man- 
kindy and of th^ sun itself. We travel into foreigii 
countries, not to improve our own manners^ but to 
learn the worst of theirs, and to transplant them 
carefully into our own climate ; where we cultivate 
and polish them, that we may excel, all nations in 
their own peculiar vices : and we have so much 
modesty, as to suspect that our own fancy and in- 
vention is not fertile enough to contribute improve- 
ment enough to them ; and 'so bring them into con-> 
ference and conversation with more experienced 
gamesters, that we may be sure to make the most 
of them, and imp them o|it with texts of Scripture 
with all profaneness and blasphemy, that there 
may appear no want of deliberation and industry in 


the pro§^re8s we have made towards hell and dam- \ 
nation. I 

It were very ^ell for Christianity if there were | 
half that recerence reserved for religion^ that the | 
philosopher was assured w<mld be always pud to \ 
that science whidi indeed he looked upon as rdi- | 
gioD, and defined it to be wooderfiil like it ; ** Non- | 
qnam in tantam convalescet, nnnquam sic contra | 
virtates conjarabitury at non philosophise noraen 
venerabile et sacrum maneatr" and indeed, this 
modesty and respect to» or for, our religion, was 
never so near rooi^ oat of the hearts of men, since { 
the name of religion was first heard of in the world, i 
as it is in Che present age and present practice iu { 
most nations which call themselves Christians;! 
when poetry itself doth not administer so frequent | 
occasions of mirth as religion doth ; nor are the ^ 
sayings of the poets so often applied to the most | 
scurrilous and proiane exercises of wit, as the Scrip- 1 
ture itself is $ nor indeed is any wit so grateful and 
acceptable as that which is so polluted i so that it \ 
is no breach of charity, to believe that too many i 
read the Scripture, and very industriously, only that i 
they may be readier to apply not only the phrase and | 
expressions, but the highest mysteries contained in j 
the whole body of the Scripture, to the most wick- i 
ed, profane, and scurrilous and blasphemoos sub- 
jects. Nor will they take it ill to have this believed 
of them, the number and quality of the ofienders 
carrying before it an impunity for the ofience ; so 
that there may shortly be too much reason io fear 
that it may be dangerous to let the kingdom know 
" quanto plures mali sint ;" since, as the same • 
philosopher observed, '' pudorem rei toUit mniti^ 

OF DRimKBNNB88. 43 

ndo peccandmn^ et desinit esse probri loco, com- 
Dune maledictmn." It is high time for the soit- 
%igii power to be very vigilant and severe, when 
inch conspiracies and oombinatioh84^row so strong ; 
lor can there be a greater manifestation of the oon- 
«mpt of the government, than when great and no- 
orions vices obtain credit and reputation. 


ruAT dmnkenness is a sin of very great antiquity, 
needs no other evidence, than that, for anght ap- 
xxK, it was the first sin that was committed after 
he flood ; and it may be, the first punishment that 
fras inflicted upon it was the best proportioned to 
he crime ; and If it had been ever prosecuted upon 
»he continuance and propagation of it sinCe, it is 
probable that vice had not flourished in so many 
i^es to this time, when it remains more strong and 
rigorous, and in more credit and reputation, than 
it bad in its begininng; l)ecau8e it hath not the 
lame penalty inflicted upon it idnee, which was, a 
moclcery and contempt. Not that mockery which 
is now so much applied to it, and by which it is 
cherished and propagated by mirth and laughter, 
ind loolting upon it as a commendable, at least a 
pardonable, effect of good-fellowship : it wad^ ano- 
ther kind of mocking which God prescribed, by per. 
mitting, when he made the first drunken man (who 
had been so much in his favour) to become by it 
ridiculous tohU own son, and permitted his own 
child unn^uraliy to ooDtemn his father ; as if it 
were but justice, that his own flesh and blood 
tboQld withdraw the daty due to a parent, who 

44 LORD clarendon'^ E88AY8. 

had divested himself of his manhood to become ' 
beast. It was the third part oT the world that thei 
maoifested this contempt towards that excessiv 
debauchery, and the other two parts did but con 
oeal it ': and though the presumption in so near 
relation as a son was not excusable, his piety can 
not justify such a contempt ; yet the contempt it 
self, as it' was the first, so it is the best and mos 
sovereign remedy that the wisdom of a state cai 
prescribe for the suppressing and eradicating tha 
enonnity, that a dissolute and a dmnlcen man b< 
looked upon with scorn, and as unworthy to b< 
received into the company^or employmeftt of honesi 
and virtuous persons ; that he who delights to de- 
grade himself from being a reasonable creature, b< 
degraded from the capacity of exercising any office, 
for the support whereof the use of reason is con* 
stantly necessary ; and that he be exposed to a uni- 
versal contempt, who exposes himself to discredU 
his creation, and to drive that reasonable soul from 
him that only distinguishes him from a beast. And 
till this peculiar penalty be, by a general consent ol 
all worthy men as well as magistrates, applied to 
this race of impudent, transgressors, this affected 
wickedness will never be extirpated, but involve 
whole nations in the infamy, though particular men 
may be free from the guilt cNf the excess. 

The succeeding stages of the world never found 
so proper a remedy for this malady, though some- 
thing wa^ always done to make it odious and ter- 
rible to those who affected it. By the Levitical law, 
if the father and the mother did bring thtir son be- 
fore the elders of the city, and say, lliis onr son is 
a glutton and a drunkard^ aU the men of the dty 


lall Stone hSm with stcmes that he die; yet this 
•verity did i^ot root out that vice from that people, 
ccess of wine still wrought the same effects : and 
is prohable the severity of the law made men less 
lUcitous for the execution of it ; parents chose 
ither to keep a drunken son than to have no son 
: ally to hare him put to death ; and fm excess of 
gonr ID the punishment rather makes faults to be 
irefally concealed, than not to be committed. And- 
lis may be the reason that in the time of Solomon, 
ho, amongst his multitude of vices, we do not find 
as given to drunkenness, a less severe judgment 
as denounced against it, yet more like to reform 
: '< The drunkard and the glutton shall come to 
yverty," says he, (Prov. xxiii. 21.) I^et but that 
* made good, and the cure is wrought ; no man 
rer affected a vice that he believed would inevira- 
ly make him a beggar ; the gamester, who most 
ftturaHy falls into it, is very solicitous to avoid it, 
Dd plays that he may be rich ; and the lustful per- 
DU, thoqgh he may fear dii^ea^es, sees no cause to 
pprehend poverty, by giving satisfaction to his ap- 
etite. No vicious man considers Hoiven so much, 
I to foresee the punishment that may fall from 
tence upon his excesses ; and therefore let Solo- 
ion pronounce'' what he will, the drunkard will 
ever be terrified with the fe9i^ of beggary, whilst 
le sees rich and gi^at men affected with the same 
ileasure with which he is delighted and reproached, . 
jid to whom it may be he stands more commended 
)y his faculty in drinking than he would be by the 
)ractice of any particular virtue. Nor can the pub- 
ic laws and penalties of any state execute Solomon's 


' sentetice,. atid reduce those riotoiui tntmgfesaors t 
poverty, whilst the magistrates and great muiisten 
without whose ioduence those dead laws have n 
vigour, are accustomed to the same excesses, or ii 
dulgent to those who are : they are so far from b< 
lievlug that they shall be the poorer by it, that th< 
look upon it as th£ only antidote that can expel tl 
poison of poverty, and the only remedy that can r< 
deem and buoy them up from the abyss into whic 
the melanchoiy of want usually casts those who ai 

<- in distress : they think they have a piece of 3ori] 
ture more canonical than Solomon's practice, of ti 
verity whereof they have such real experience i 
the pauegyric they find in Esdraa, which, instead < 
bang cast into poverty, raised the poorest aooongs 
them to the state and condition of kings : '* Wii 
maketh the mind of the king and of the fatberle 
child to be all one, of the bondman and of the fre< 
man, of the poor man and of the rich. It tumel 
also eyerf thought into jollity and mirth, so that 
man remembereth neither sorrow nor debt ; and 
maketh every heart rich, so that a man remembei 
eth neither king nor governor ; and it maketh ( 
speak an things by talents;" (1 Esdr. iii. 19, 2( 
21.) And if in truth this prerogative be oonfirme 
by the condescension of great men to this equalitj 
in prostituting themselves to .the same base excess 
if this rebellious transportation of jollity, and thi 
pleasant dream of wealth and security, be aci 
awaked by some severe and sensible chastisemeDl 

, the Apocryi^a will be preferred as the truer Scrifi 
ture, and men will not, by the gravity (which the 
call the morality) of a few sober men, be irrecon 

OF DRUNKBllHXSif. . 47 

cUed with tke vice that brings them into so good 
compaDy, aod in wliirii thef enjoy so' many pleaaant 

We may reasonably betieve^ that in oar Saviour's 
time this onmaaly excess was grown to a very great 
height, by the most terrible J-nd^ent denonnoed 
against it by St. I>aal (1 Cor. vL 10.) << That no 
dmnkard shall inherit the kingdom of God." A 
man most be in a perpetual drunkenness, that doth 
not discern the treachery of that wine which raises 
that mirth and jollity^ which makes him foffet the 
King of kings,, and this inevitable sentence that he 
must undergo for that minute of contemptible mirth 
to which he sacrifices bis miserable soul. What 
remedy can God himself prescribe against our de- 
struction, if so pl^ and. clear and unquestionable 
determination cannot fright us from this unworthy 
and dcvonriug excess f And those men most be 
very ambitloos to be damned, who make appoints 
ments, and meet to be dmnk, that they may not be 
disappointed of the other. Nor can this desperate 
appetite consist but in a mind wholly possessed 
with contempt of H^ven, and all hope of salvation : 
and yet St. Padl seems to resort to tlie old primi-* 
five punishment as the most like to prevent this 
last unavoidable one, to try if contempt and disdain > 
can draw men from that which hell-fire cannot 
terrify them from : ** And now I have written unto 
yon not, to keep company if any man that is called 
a brother be a drunkard ; with such an one, no, not 
to eat." To be a Christian and a drunkard was such 
a contradiction, to put off the man and retain the 
Christian was snch a mockery, that he who afiected 
it was not thought fit for any part of human society. 


It U not from original isio, or the cornipt natore of ( 
mankind, but from the corruption of their oiannera, ' 
from wicked and licentious education, that men 
are more afraid of anj temporal disgrace, any pre- 
sent disadvantage, than of eternal punishment : 
they cannot be induced to believe that their livts 
are near an end, whilst they enjoy health and vigour 
of mind ; and damnation is a thing so far off, and, 
as they believe, easy to be compounded for in the 
last moment of life, besides the putting it off by not 
thinking of it, that few men displease theqaselves 
by any apprehension of it ; and therefore it must 
be some present uneasiness, some incapacity upon 
earth as well as in heaven, that must magisterially 
reform men from this noisome malady. If, as per- 
sons overgrown with the infection of leprosy, 
they be excluded from the courts of princes and 
the chambers of great men ; if they were made 
incapable of any dignity or office, or of being ad- 
mitted into the company of gentlemen, by a de- 
clared, reproach upon all who shall presume to keep 
them company ; if the observation and experience 
that men of excellent parts do, in few years, become 
fools by excessive drinking, could prevail with others 
to believe that they shall, from the same surfeits, be 
rendered inferior in their understanding to all who 
are more temperate than they, and thereby grow 
unfit as well as unworthy for those employments 
they pretend to ; these castigations -and these re- 
flections might possibly ma^e such impression upon 
the minds of those. who are possessed with this 
frenzy, together with a combination of all noble and 
generous persons against them, th^t this unchristian 
brutalily, which dishonoura all nations where it is 


])enDitted, would be rooted out, or confined to tbat 
aliject sort of men, which, being abandoned by their 
tmn hista and excesses, are not loolted npon as a 
noble part of any Christian nation, bat ranked 
aiiongst the dregs of the people. And tmly if such 
a collection were made and published, as very many 
men's own experience and observation can produce 
of the ptiblic mischief and rain that hath befallen 
states in the discovery of counsels, and the lessening 
and alienating the adSection and reverence that. is 
dae to the government, by this single vice of drun- 
kenness ; that hath befEdlen armies in having their 
quarters beaten up, their towns surprised, their 
forts betrayed, and the whole discipline which 
should preserve them dissolved by the pernicious 
excess of drink in the generals and principal offi- 
cers; that hath befallen private families, in the 
quarrels, breach of friendship, and murders, which 
have had no other original or foundation but 
drunkenness; men could not but conclude, that 
it is a sin that God is wonderfully offended with, 
and a scourge that he chastises all those with who 
are delighted in it, and would abhor both it and 
them proportionably ; and tliat they can hare no 
peace with Ood or man, who do not labour with all 
their faculties to drive it out and keep it out of 
their families, their towns, and countries, with the 
same vigilance and severity as they use against the 
most devouring plague and pestilence that sv^eeps , 
all bdore it. 

It is too great an indulgence to this wickedness, 
it may be in some who are not guilty of it, and an 
evidence that they do not abhor it enough, to say 
that tlie natural temper and constitution of men is 


50 LORDi clarendon's ESSAYS. 

80 different that \^iie works different effects in 
them; and that it hath such an insinuation into 
many, that it can as hardly be shut out as flattery 
can, and infuses its poison so subtilly that it hath 
wrought its effects before it be discerned or sns« 
pected, and therefore could very hardly be prevent- 
ed ; that the same excess which is visible in some 
men to the loss of their reason and pther faculties, 
is not discernible in others, nor makes the least 
impression upon them ; that it never produces any 
mischievous effect in many, and so cannot be, at 
least in the same degree, sinful in all men ; and, 
lastly, that it is a part of conversation from which 
men cannot retire rudely ; and they who are once 
entered into it, especially if it be with persons su- 
perior to themselves, and upon whom they have 
some dependence, can very hardly refuse to submit 
to the laws they prescribe for the present, or with- 
draw from that excess which they do not like, nor 
must presume to'ceusure or contradict. It is great 
pity that our Saviour nor his disciples had not the 
foresight to ^discern these distinctions and casual 
obligations, that they might not so positively have 
shut out all transgi'essors, who may have so reason* 
able excuses for the excesses they commit, from any 
hope of salvation ; but it is much more pity that 
any men, who pretend to pay submission and obedi- 
ence to his injunctions, and to believe and give crer 
dit to his dictates, should^ delude themselves and 
others with such vain and impious imaginations, 
and hope to avoid a judgment that Is so unavoidably 
pronounced, by such weak. excuses as cannot ab- 
solve men from the most trivial and lightest tres- 
passes. Cannot he that \risely declines walking 


Upon the ice for fear of falling, though possibly it 
might carry him sooner to his journey's end^ as 
wisely forbear drinking more wine than is neces- 
sary, for fear of being drunk and the ill consequences 
thereof ? Is there any man so intemperate as ito 
drink to an excess, when his physician assures him 
it will increase his. fever, though he hath a better 
excuse then from his thirsty or improve some other 
disease the strength whereof already threatens him 
with death ? Can we be temperate that we may 
live a month the longer, which at best we cannot be 
sure of; and will not the fear of eternal death make 
any impression upon us ? There is ndt in the whole 
catalogue of vices to which mankind is liable, any 
one- (swearing only excepted) that hath not more 
benefit as well as pleasure for its excuse and reward : 
the revengeful and malicious person finds some ease 
and ad^'antagc from having brought some signal 
misfortune upon his enemy; others will be more 
wary how they displease and provoke him : the 
covetous man is a great gainer by his pursuit, and is 
able, if he were willing, to do much good with what 
he hath gotten ill : the lustful person finds ease, by 
having quenched or rather allayed a fire that burned 
him, and which a sudden reflection or sharp ani- 
madversion could not extinguish. The drunkard 
only, hath none of these pretences for his excess, 
none of these deceitful pleasures in the exercise of 
it ; no man was ever drunk to quench his^thirst, or 
found other delight in it than in becoming less a 
man than God hath made him ; which inust be a 
horrible deformity, and disguise him from the knowi 
ledge of God. They Who can perform the oflSce of 
strong beasts, in carrying more drink than others 
caoy should be put to carry it the same way they do. 

52 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

which would be much more innocent ; and their * 
strength doth btit deceive them, and decays to all ', 
Boble purposes, when it seems exalted in that hase ' 
and servile work. Besides, it may be the goiH of 
his weak companion, who falls sooner under his 
hand, is inferior, how penal soever, to his who tri- 
umphs in his brutish unwounded Conquest, and be- 
Itefes he is less drunk, because he is not so mudi 
dead. They who apply their power and quality to 
the propagation of this unmanly and unruly licence, 
and draw men from oi>eying or considering Heaven, 
to please them, are fit to be degraded from that 
qusjification they so dishonourably prostitute, and 
to be condemned to that conversation the^ so much 
aflfect; and they, who out of modesty and goad 
manners, out of gratitude and obedience, are dis- 
posed to submit to those commands, ought wdl to 
consider, that they do at the same time renounce 
their Christian liberty, and enter into a servitude 
which hath no bounds or limits : for with what se- 
cftrity or reason can he' refuse to perfomn the lowest 
and the basest office that man shall require him, upon 
whose command he hath been content to be drnnk ? 
That he is not a pander, that he is not an assassina- 
tor, that he is not a rebel, is not to be imputed to 
any restraint in or from his own conscience, but to 
the temper and constitution of his patron, which 
doth not invite him to those debaucheries ; for to 
say that honour and the law make those much more 
penal than the other, so that his commands can 
more easily be disputed and contradicted in those 
cases, is no excuse ; for where the conscience lies 
waste, and all regard to God's law is rc;|ected, obe- 
dience to the law of man is no otherwise retained 
than in order to prevent discovery ; and where the 


penalty may be declined or eluded, the impiety 
makes no impression : so that he who hath bare-' 
faced^imd upon deliberation, violated any one of 
God's express commandments, hath given earnest 
to the devil that he will break any of the rest, 
when the like opportunity and convenience shall be 

It is yet much more wonderful that th^re should 
be any Christian ^vemment, in which there are 
no laws established to punish this damnable sin $ 
and that there should be such a compassion for it, 
that the same crime, even homicide itself, that is 
committed by a sober man is punishable with death, 
shoulfl not be penal to a man that is in drink : as 
if the guilt of one sin should be absolved by the 
being guilty of another ; and that, when under the 
law, drunkenness was punished with death, under 
the should excuse a murderer from death, 
who by the law and the gospel ojight not to be suf- 
fered to live ; that a circumstance of high aggrava^ 
tion should be applied to the mitigation of a cen- 
sure^ that ought to be the more severe $ nay, even 
to constitute «uch an innocence as is not worthy of 
a censure. The philosopher can assure us, *' Non 
£acit ebrietas vitia,. sed protrahlt," druukennest 
doth bnt produce and manifest the malice that lay 
concealed, creates it not : " Vis vini quicquid mali 
latebat emergit," wine infuses no ill desu'es, it only 
makes those appear which lay hid; it publishes 
what the heart hath entertiuned, and makes vice 
more impudent that was as mischievous before : the 
licentious person dot^ then that in the streets which 
he doth at other times In his chamber ; and because 
he upbraids justice aloud and provokes it, he must 

54 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

be anchastised, and only admonished that he bcf 
more wary in his excesses. What is this but to 
cherish and foment an abomination, against which 
no less judgment than that of hell-fire is denounced ? 
There is not in the whole body of the civil law one 
text that declares drunkenness to be a crime, or 
that provides a punishment for it ; on the contrary^ 
'* Ebriis quaudoque vehia dari solet derelinquenti- 
bns, tanquam sepultis, et nescientibns," pardon is 
rather given to such offenders, as to pe^rsons buried^ 
and not knowing what they do : and Calvin says 
expressly, *' Jure nostro poena minnitur, quod in 
ebrio dolus abesse putetur ;" it is the privilege of a 
drunkard to be less punished than other men, be- 
cause he is supposed to mean no harm. And that 
we may not impute this monstrous indulgence to 
the easiness and corruption of the judges^ the 
Digests have an express text, (Li. 49. Titu. 16.) 
*' per vlnum et lasciviam lapsis capitalis pcena re- 
mittenda est," a capital punishment must not be 
inflicted upon those who are'criminal through wine 
or Inst : which must be an excellent law to govern 
nations by. And yet the latter may seem to be 
more excusable than the former, since it may pro- 
ceed from the impulsion of nature; whereas the 
other is affectedly and industriously entered upon 
with the nauseating and aversion of nature, smd is 
purely the effect of^ malicious appetite and wanton- 
ness. What shall we say then to that whicli is 
most horrible, that in any Christian country it. 
should not be looked upon as a sin, as an offence 
that needs God's forgiveness? In Germany, they 
are not obliged to confess being drnnk, as if sobriety 
were a Christian virtue inconsistent with the health 


and temper of the nation, and the contrary neces* 
sary to be dispensed with for the pubUc good and 
benefit. We may surely say, that Christianity hath 
not done its perfect work in that country, how Ca» 
tholic soever it is ; that wherever that sin is per- 
mitted, Christ is not sufficiently preached; and 
where it is cherished and countenanced, neither his 
apostles or himself are credited or believed ; that 
jio integrity of opinion can absolve the guilt of that 
practice ^ and we may as reasonably presume of M" 
vation upon the faith of the Alcoran, aa with the 
exercise of this brutish sin, against which damnation 
is ao positively denounced/ 


Montpdlier, 1^0. 

If envy, like anger, did not bum itself in its own 
fire, and consume and destroy those persons it pos^ 
sesses, before it can destroy those it wishes worst 
to, it would set the whole world on fire, and leave 
the most excellent persons the most miserable. Of 
all the affections and passions which lodge them- 
selves within the breast of man, envy is the most 
troublesome, the most restless, hath the most of 
malignity, the most of poison in it. The object 
she hath an immortal hatred to is virtue ; and the 
war she makes is always against the best atTd vir- 
tuous men, at least against those who have some 
signal perfection. No other passion vents itself 
xfnh that drcumspectioA and deliberation^ and is 
' in all its rage and extent in awe of some control. 
The most choleric and angry man may offend an 
honest and a worthy person^ but he chooses it not ; 


he httd rather provoke a worse man, and at worst 
be recollects himself upon the nght of the magi- 
strate. Last> that is blind and frantic, gets into the 
worst company it «an, and never assaults chastity. 
Bat envy, a more pemicioas affection than dther of 
the other, is inquisitive, observes whose merit most 
dt!*ws the ejles of men upon it, is most crowned by 
the general suffrage ; and agunst that person he 
shoots aU his venom, and* without any noise enters 
into all unlawful combinations against him to de- 
stroy him : though the high condition Solomon was 
in kept him from feeling the eflects of it, (for kings 
can only be envied by kings), he well discovered the 
uncontrollable power of it ; '' Wrath is cruel, and 
anger is outrageous; but who can stand before 
envy ?*' (Prov. xxvii. 6.) Let wrath be as cruel as it 
will, a stronger wrathi can disarm it, or application 
and address can pacify it ; foir words have power 
over itf and let anger be never so outrageous, it can 
be resisted, and will extinguish itself: they both 
give fair warning, are discovered afar off, and we 
have time to fight or fly ; but envy hath no fixed 
open residence, no man knows where it dwells, nor 
can discern when it marches ; it is a tqttadroni 
volunie, that declares no war, but breaks into opr 
quarters when we do not suspect it to be near us, 
wounds our reputation, stifles the brightness of our 
merit, and works e?en upon our friends to suspend 
their good opinion, and to doubt whether they are 
not deceived, and whether we are as good as we ap>- 
pear to be. If our credit be so well built, so firm, 
that it is not easy to be shaken by calumny and in- 
sinuation, it then over commends us, and extols us 
beyond reason to those upon whom we depend, till< 

OP ENVY. - 57 

th€7 grow jealous ; and so blow us up when they 
cannot throw us down. ^ There b no gaaxd-to be 
kept against envy, becanse no man knows where it 
dwells ; and generonti md Idnocent men are seldom 
jealous and suspicions. till they feel the wound, or 
discern some notorious effect of it. It shelters it- 
self for the most part in dark and melancholy con- 
stitutions, yet sometimes gets into less* suspected 
lodgings, hut never owns to be within when it is 
asked for. All other passions do not onlf betray 
and discover, but likewise confess themselves ; the 
choleric man confesses he is angry, and the prond 
man confesses he is ambitious ; the covetous man 
never denies that he loves money, and the drunkard 
confesses that he loves wine : but no envious man 
ever confessed that he did envy ; he commands his 
words much better than his looks, and those would 
lietray him, if he had not bodily infirmities apparent 
enough j that those of the mind cannot easily be dis- 
covered, but in the mischief they do. Envy pre- 
tends always to be a rival to virtue, and to court ho«> 
nour only by merit, and never to be afflicted but on 
the behalf of justice, when persons less meritorious 
come to be preferred $ and it is so far true, that it 
seldom assaults unfortunate rirtue,.and is as seldom 
troabled for any success, how unworthy soever, that 
doth not carry a man farther than the envious 
man himself can atUun to ; he envies and hates, 
and would destroy every man who hath better parts 
er better fortune t^an himself ; and that he is not 
a witch, proceeds only from the devil's want of 
power, that he cannot give him illustrious condi- 
tions, for he hath more pride and ambition than 
any other sort of sinner. 

D 2 



Montpellier, l66g» 

" Tbb beginning of pride is when one departeth 
ftam God, and his heart is tamed away fisoni bis 
Malcer," says the son of Siracfa, x. 12. It is no 
wonder that a provd man despisetb his oeigkboar, 
Wiieu he is departed from bis €rod ; and since he is 
so, it is no less a wonder that he doth all he (an to 
conceal himself : and he hath oftentimes vei) good 
lidc in doing it; and as few men ever ac]»iewledge 
themselves to be proud, so they who are so are not 
easily discovered. It is a pride as gross and as ridi« 
eoious as folly itself, which appears and exposes it- 
self to the eyes of all men; it is a guest that no- 
bodyseems willing to harboar, and yet it findis en- 
trance and admission aad entertainment in the 
breasts of all men as well as women : it is a weed 
that grows in all soils and climates, and is no less 
Ivxuriant in the country than in the court; is not 
confined to any ranlE of men or extent of fortime, 
but rages in the breasts of all degrees. Alexander 
«ras not prouder than biogenes ; and it may be^ if 
we would endeavour to surprise it in its BM)6t giiij 
dress and attire, and in the exercise of its full em- 
pire and tyranny, we should find it in schoolmasters 
and scholars, or in some conlitry lady, or the knight 
her husband ; all which ranks of people more de- 
spise their neighbours, than all the degreea of ho- 
nour in which courts abound : and it rages as much 
in a sordid afi'ected dress, as in all the silks and 
embroideries which the excess of the age and the 
foUy of youth delight to be adorned with. Since 

then St keeps ^ sorts of company^ and wrign^es it" 
self iuto tbe liking of the most contrary natures and . 
dispositions, and yet carries so mnch poison and* 
venom with it, that it alienates tbe affections from 
heaven, and raises rdlielUon against God himself, it 
is worth oar utmost care to watch it in all its dis- 
gnises and approaches, that we may discover it in 
its first entrance, and dislodge it before it procures 
a shelter or retiring place to lodge and^noeal itU 
self. Since Qod himself makes war against it ; 
'* Pride and arrogance, and the evil way and the 
froward mouth, do I hate," says the spirit of God ; 
(Prov. viii. 13.) since when pride comes, then oometb 
shame, nay then cometh destruction, we cannot 
be too solicltons that this declared destroying foe 
doth not steal upon us unawares, for want of senti* 
Bds, for want of knowing him before he crowds in. 
Let lis therefore take as exact a survey as ^e can- 
what pride in truth is : in the disquisition whereof, 
because we find that they who entertain it most, 
and are roost possessed by it, use all the endeavonrs 
and art they can to conceal it best, and that they 
wbo are least infected or corrupted by it, are often*- 
times suspected to have It most, it will not be amiss, 
in the first place, to consider tiie negative. What is 
not pride, that so often deceives the standers^by, 
that we may the better illustrate the affirmative, in* 
the stating whfit pride indeed is, that is so little 
suspected sometimes, that it escapes all but very vi-^ 
gUant observatious upon the most strict and sharpest 

The outward preservation of men's dignity^ ac-^ 
cording to the several qualities and stations they 
hold in the world, by their birth or office, or ptiier 


qualificatioB, is not pride. The peace and quiet of 
nations cannot be preserved without order and go> 
Vemment; and order and government cannot be 
maintained and supported without distinction and 
degrees of men, which must be subordinate one to 
the other : where all are equal, there can be no 
superiority; and where there is no superiority, 
there can be no obedience ; and where there is no 
obedience, there must be great confusion, which is 
^ t}ie highest contradiction and opposition of order 
and peace ; and the Iceeping those bounds and fences 
strictly and severely, and thereby obliging all men to 
contiun themselves within the limits prescribed ta 
them, is rery well consisting with the greatest hu- 
mility, and therefore can be no discovery or sym- 
ptom of pride. And it may be, the most diabolical 
pride may not more inhabit in the breasts of any 
sort of men, than of those who are forward to stoop 
from the dignity they onght to uphold to a mean 
and low condescension to inferior persons ; for' all 
pride being a violation of justice, it may be pre- 
snmed, or reasonably saspected, that he that prac- 
tises that injustice towards himself hath his ambi- 
tion complied with, and satisfied by some unworthy 
effects from such condescension. I do not say, that 
these necessMy distances and distinctions and pr&>' 
•cedencies are always exercised without pride, but 
that they may be so and onght to No doubt, 
men who are in the highest stations, and have a 
pre-eminence over other men, and- are bound to 
exercise that superiority over those men who, it 
may be, have been better men than they, and de- 
serve still to be so, to constrain them to perform 
their duty^ which they' ought to do without cod- 


stralnt, have great temptations, especially if they 
have vnlgar miuds, to be proud ; and ought to take 
great care, by their gentle and modeat behaviour in 
their conversation, by doing all the offices which 
charity or courtesy invite them to, and by executing 
that most rigid part of their obligation, which 
obliges them to punish corrupt men' and corrupt 
manners, without the least arrogance or insolence to- 
wards their persons, as if he were well pleased with 
the opportunity ; which is in truth as if he could 
satisfy public justice and bis particular malice toge- 
ther,' which are Inconsistent, and cannot but be the 
effect and product of great pride in his heart, and he 
is not glad that he can do justice so much, as that 
he takes revenge upon a guilty person that he doth 
not love. The seat of pride is in the heart, and 
only there ; and if it be not there, it is neither in 
the looks, nor in the clothes. A cloud in the 
coantenance, a melancholy and absence of mind, 
which detains a man from suddenly taking notice 
of what is said or done^ very often makes a man 
thought to be proud, who is inpst free from that 
corruption ; and the excess in clothes may be some 
mantfestation of folly «r levity, but can be no evi- 
dence of pride : for first, the particular quality and 
condition of men may oblige them to some cost and 
curiosity in their clothes ; and then the very affect- 
ing a neatness and expense of decent habit, (if it 
does not exceed the limits of, one's fortune), is not 
only very lawful, and an innocent delight, but very 
commendable ; and men, who most affect a gal- 
lantry in their' dress, have hearts too cheei-ful and 
liberal to be affected with so troublesome a passion 
as pride, which always possesses itself of the heart. 


and branches itself oat into two very notable 'and 
visible affections ; which are, a very high and im« 
moderate esteen) of themselves, and admiration 
and overvalaing of their own parts and qualities, 
and a contempt of the- persons of other men, and 
disesteem and' undervaluing of all their feculties 
and endowments, how couspicnous soever to aD 
others: and without both those excesses, pride 
will hardly be nourished to a monstrous magnitude; 
but thus fed and cherished, outgrows all other 
vices, and indeed comprehends them. 

The disesteem and contempt of others is inse- 
liarable from pride. It is hardly possible to over- 
value ourselves, but by undervaluing oar neigh- 
bours ; and we compionly most undervalue those 
who are by other men thought to be wiser than we 
are; and it is a kind of jealousy in ourselves thaff 
they are so, which provokes our pride ; '' Only by 
pride Cometh contention," says Solomon (Prov.xiii. 
10.) In truth, pride is contention itself, an inso- 
lent passion that always contends, and contenda for 
that which doth not belong to him who contends ; 
contends by, calumny to rob another man of his re- 
putation, of his good name; contends by force to 
extort tltat which another man hath no mind to 
part with ; and oftentimes contends by fraud and 
flattery to deprive a man of what barefaced and by 
force he could not compass ; and does as much 
contemn a man whom he hath cozened and de- 
ceived, as if he liad by courage overcome him ; nay, 
he takes no pleasure in the good that is in him, 
otherwise than as it is set off and illustrated by 
the infirmities of other men ; he doth not enjoy the 
advantages nature or fortune have conferred upon 


«- or PRIDE, . 63 


lam with that relisb, as when it bviiigs a prejudice 
to some others ; he never likes his wit so well, as 
when it makes his compaoious, it may be his 
friends, ridiculous ; nor ecer feels the pleasure of 
his fortune so much, as when it enables him to 
ofipress his^ neighbour : in the pursuit of his ambi- 
tion » he had much rather obtain an office that is 
promised to another, than one that is vacant to all 
pretenders; to be preferred before another, how 
unreasonably or unjust soever, is a fall feast to 
his pride, and a warrant in his own opinion ever 
after to prefer himself before all men ; and if he 
oonld have his wish, he would see all men miser- 
able who have contended with him, and presumed 
to think themselves worthy of any thing which he 
hath been content to accept : whatever benefits and 
prefiermeBtSu other men attain to, he imputes to 
their fortune, and to the weakness t>f those men 
who, contributed to it, out of want of abilities to 
discover their defects and unworthiness ; what is 
thrown upon himself, from the blind affection and 
b^nty of his superiors, he receives as a reward 
below his merit: he sees no man disch^ge the 
obligation of his office and trust, but he believes 
he could do it much better, and that it is partiality, 
not justice, that gives him a good testimony; 
whereas if he comes to have any province of his 
own to manage and govern, no man does it with 
more remu^sness or more insufficiency; for he 
thinks it below the estimation he would have all 
men to have of his parts to ask advice, or to receive 
it from any man, who out of kindness (which he 
calls presumption) offers to give him any: and if 
he be so wise (as few proud men are} as to profit 


by others, it is by a hatighty way of askiug qaes* *C 
tioiis, which seem to question their suiBcieiicy 
rather than a thoiight of improving^ his own ; and 
he is stiii more inqulsitire, and takes more psuns to 
discover the faults which other men commit in J 
their office, than -to prevent or reform his omtts 
with all his nn|iervalning other men, be Is ftr 
from contemnii^ what others say of him, how 
nnjnst and untnie soever it is^ but is grieved and 
afflicted that they dare do it, and out of fear that 
other men would believe, and so neglect and con- 
temn him too ; for though he takes no other way 
to attain to it but by admiring himself, he doth 
heartily wish that all men would likewise admire 
^im. Pride, as it is compounded of the vanity smd 
ill nature that disposes men to admire themselves 
and to contemn other men (which is its genuine 
composition) retains its vigour longer than any 
other vice, and rarely expires but with life itself. 
Age wears out many other vices, loses the memory 
of injuries and provocatiotis, and the thought of re* 
venge is weary of the pursuit it hath already made, 
and so is without ambition ; it hath outlived those 
appetites and affections which were most importu- 
nate for satisfaction and most obstinate against' 
counsel, and so abhors both lusts and surfeits; it 
seldom engenders vice which it hath not been 
heretofore acquainted with : for that covetousness 
which men commonly think that age istnost liable 
to, is rather a diminution of the generosity and 
bounty and expense that youth is naturally de« 
lighted with, and uses to exercise, than a sordid 
appetite and love of money; and though it be the 
season in which mea gather and collect most, and 



keep it by tbem whea they have gathered it, it is. 
(as was said before) because they know not how 
to spetid it, and the bounty that was in their na- 
ture is shrank* and dried up, and they take no 
pleasure in giving ; besides, that age Ls always ap- 
prehensive «5>f want, and therefore loves to be pro-- 
Tided against all possible accidents and emergen- 
cies. But pride finds a welcome and pleasant re- 
sidence ii^ that parched flesh and dried bones, and 
exercises itself more imperiously, because it meets 
not with that opposition and- contradiction wluch 
it usnally finds in younger company. Age, tliongh 
it too often consists only in length of days, in having 
been longer than other men, not in the experiments 
of life above those who are mneh younger, is natu- 
rally censorious, and expects reverence and siU)- 
mission to their white hairs, which they cannot 
challenge to any rudiments or example which they 
have given to virtue ; and superciliously censure aU' 
who are younger than themselves, and the vices of 
the present time as new and unheard of, when in 
truth they are the very same they practised, and 
practised as long as they were able; they talk much 
of their observation and experience, in order to be 
obeyed in things they understand not, and out of 
vanity and morosity contract a pride that never de- 
parts from them whilst they are alive, and they die 
in an opinion that they have left none wiser behind 
them, though they have left none behind them 
who CFer had any esteem of their wisdom and 

But when we have laid all the reproaches upon 
it that it deserves, to make it odious to ourselves 
and to all the world, and have raised all the fences 


and fortifications we can against it, to Iceep it from i 
entering upon and into ns, we have need still to I 
have recourse to God Almighty, and to implore his 
a^istance in the guarding us from the assaults of 
this bold enemy ; that he will preserve us from its , 
approaches when we most approach him, and when 
we ar^ doing that which most pleases him; in 
those seasons when we discharge our duty with 
^ most integrity, most ability, and most reputation, ] 
that men speak well of us, and speak but true, 
that be will then watch for us, that pride steal not 
into our hearts, and persuade us to think better of 
ourselves than we ought to do; that he will take \ 
care of us, when we take most care of ourselves to 
preserve our innocence, and even in our most 
secret devotions and addresses to his Divine Ma- 
jesty, that with the serenity of conscience which is 
naturally the effect of such devout addresses, no 
information of pride may enter into us to make us 
believe that we are better than other men, which 
will quickly make us worse ; that he will not suffer 
ns to grow, from the vices of others, because by 
.his grace we are yet without those vices which they 
are transported with, proud of that which in truth 
is virtue in us ; that we be not ^^ralted with our 
own integrity, and neglect and despise those appU- 
-cations and condescensions which are necessary in 
this world to the support of the greatest integrity 
and innocence. The pride«-of a good conscience 
hath often exposed many men to great calamities, 
when they have too much neglected the friendships 
and affections of others, it may be the better to 
preserve their innocence; and so have been aban- 
doned in the time of powerful calumny and pea:ile> 

OF FRise. 67 

cntion by those, who having reverence for their 
virtue, yet are without kindness for their persons^ 
-and so c-ondude that they are the less concerned 
for justice, because they are not at all concerned for 
their affection, or for any obligation they have re- 
ceived. It is very necessary therefore, that they 
who do their duty best, and have the greatest evi- 
dence and testimony of a good conscience within 
their own breasts, have likewise the greatest caie 
that they be not only not exalted with that pride of 
conscience, but that they be not suspected to l)e so ; 
and it is great pity that so in an effect should pro- 
ceed from so good a canse; 'that, the sam6 up- 
rightness and integrity, which raises naturally jea* 
lousy, and envy, and malice, in the hearts of other 
men, should deprive those who are possessed of it 
of all wariness and dexterity and address, which is 
at least convenient for the manifestation and sup- 
port of that sincerity and uprightness : *' He is 
grievous unto us even to behold, for his life is not 
like other men's, his ways are of another £E»hioD ; 
let US examine him with despitefulness and torture, 
that we may know his meekness, and prove his pa- 
tience," (Wisdom Sol. ii. 15, 19,) hath been the 
doctrine and practice of the world from Solomon's 
time to the age in which we live ; and whilst this 
conspiracy continues, the best men will have need 
of good friends and powerful vindicators, which 
most be procured by private correspondences as 
well as public justice, and by private obligations as 
an evident inclination and propensity to oblige; for 
whatever secret veiieration virtue, hath for itself 
even from the worst men^ it seldom finds protection 
from the best. 

9S LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. ^ 

We cannot .be' too jealoBS, we cannot snspei^* ' 
oarselres too much to labour nnder^this disease, 
which cleaves the closer to us by our belief or 
confidence that we are quite without it. We may 
very properly say of pride as the philosopher said 
of flattery, *' Apertis et propitUs auribus recipitnr, 
et in praecordia ima descendit; eo ipso gratiosa 
quodlsedit;" it tickles when it hurts us, and ad- 
ministers some kind of pleasure and delight when 
it is even ready to destroy us. Few men are dis^ 
pleased to hear themselves well spoken of, (hough 
it be to themselves ; and many proud men' feel a 
kind of satis&ction in being tr»Ued with respect 
upon their death-bed, of which there have been 
many instances. Nor can those ddiberate direc- 
tions for the form and method of the funeral, the 
provision ior mourners, and the structure of a 
tomb, flow from any thing in those seasons, but 
from the remainder of that pride that will not ex-* 
pire before us. Whatever lawful custom and de- 
cency require, they who outlive us will provide for 
our memory. It is very hard, at the same time, 
to think of the pomp of a fimeral, and humbly 
enough of the carcase that is to be interred, of 
the company it is to keep in the grave, and of the 
progeny of worms that is to ivcrease out of it. 
To conclude; without the sovereign influence of 
God's extraordinary and imniediate grace, men do 
very rarely put off all the trappings of their pride, 
till they who are about them put on their winding- 

or ANGSft* 69 

- Vni. OP ANGER. 

Montpellier, iMg. 

'^ He that b slow to anger is better than the 
mighty^" is an observation as andent as Solomon'i 
time (Prov. xn. 32.) and liatli been couiirmed in 
all ages since : he tliat can abstain from it, is mas- 
ter of most men, and seldom falls of any design h« 
propoads to himself. A man that is ondLsturbed 
in what he goes aliont, will rarely be disappointed 
of bis end t whereas,- on the contrary, anger is the 
most impotent passion that accompanies the mind 
of man ; it effects nothing it goes abont ; and hnrts 
the man who. fs possessed by it more than any 
other against whom it is directed. It exposes him 
to laughter and contempt, without any return in 
Satisftbction and content, as most of the other pas- 
sions do; it is a barren and unfruitful vice, and 
only torments him who nourishes it. The philoso- 
pher thought it so useless a passion, that he could 
not tell to what service to apply it ; he would by no 
means suffer it in battles or actions of war, where 
one might believe it might be of most advantage, 
and carry men to the utmost daring, which is often 
wry successful, and hath brooght great and unex- 
pected things to pass; but he foond that it did 
naturally degenerate into rashness, 5< Et pericula 
dam inferre vult non cavet ;" and that the prevalent 
temper in those enterprises was, that " qui se din 
maltumque circumspexit, et rexit, et ex lento, et 
destinato provexit/' which anger will never permit 
Mm. And surely, if it be not seasonable in those 
angry oonteit^ons, it is much more ind^venient in 


the more calm seasons of basiness and conrersa- d 
tion : in business he rejects all that is proposed by ! 
other men, and saperciliously determines that his 
own advice u to be followed ; in conirersation he is 
full of nnpeaceable contradictions, and impatient i 
at being contradicted; so that, though upon some , 
considerations, he be endured in company, he is 
never desired or wished for. " An angry man (if 
you-believe Solomon) stirreth up strife;'* he can-c ' 
not only not be a friend, but not suffer others to be 
80 : it is not possible for him to be at peace with 
others, when he hath a perpetus^ war with himself; 
people who are not like him, cannot or will not j 
live with him; and if he be with those who are 
like him, neither of them can iive long. Seoeca 
thinksit a notable argument to men to avoid and { 
suppress it, ** non moderationis caus& sed tam-* 
tatis," because " ingentis irse exitus furor est ;" 
but the truth is, he doth anger too much honour 
who calls it madness, which, beiog a distemper of 
the brain, and a total absence of all.reason, is inooo 
cent in aU the ill effects it may produce ; whereas 
anger is an affected madness compounded of pride 
and folly, and an iutention to do commonly more 
mischief than it can bring to pass : and without 
doubt of all passions which naturally disturb the 
mind of man, it is most in our power to extingnisb, 
at least to suppress and correct, our anger. 

That we may not flatter ourselves with an ima- 
gination that anger may be commendable in us, 
and seem to have something of injunction to sup. 
port it in Scripture itself, we shall find it with a re- 
striction that quickly convinces us, that it is not 
of kin to our anger : *^ Be angry, but sin not." 

or ANGER. . 71 

if we are sore that our anger ^is only on God's 
behalf, for some indignity done to him in the 
neglect of his service, or for the practice of some 
rice or wickedness that he hath prohibited : if we 
are offended, and feel some commotions within va, 
in seeing loose and indecent tlungs done, and in 
bearing lascivious and profane things spoken ; and 
break ont into sharp and angry reprehensions and 
advice, where we may well do it ; we shall never 
be ashamed of that anger : if we can he angry and 
charitable together, and be willing to do good to 
him with whom we are most angry, we shall have 
00 ca9se to repent our anger, nor others to con- 
demn it. But we have too much cause to d«||ibt, 
that this warrantable anger will not give us content 
and delight enough to be affected with it ; it will 
do us no good because it will do others no hurt, 
and so will give us no credit with other men. We 
shall do very well, if we do restrain and suppress 
and eztingidsh aU other anger, and are only trans- 
ported with this. If we do not, and are ang^ 
only to grieve and terrify others, and therefore 
angry that they may be grieved and terrified, and 
not for any thing that they have done amiss, but 
because we would not have bad them done it; or 
if we suffer no bounds or limits to be prescribed to 
oar anger, be the cause of it never so just and rea- 
sonable, by decency, reason, and justice ; our pas- 
sion is thereby the more unjustifiable, by the coun- 
tenance we would draw to it from divinity, and 
ought to be the more carefully extinguished and, 
extirpated by our ahame and by our repentance. 



Montpellier, ISS^. 

If we coDflSdered seriously (and oar observation 
and experience supplies e%*ery man abnndantly with 
matter for those considerations) the folly and mad- 
ness and -inconvenience and mischief of passion 
and impatience, the pain and agony that is begot- 
ten by it within ourselves, and the damage and dis- 
repntation abroad with other men, we should not 
need many arguments to persuade us of the be- 
nefit and ease of patience ; and if we considered 
pal|^ce only as a moral Tirtue, as a natural so- 
bnly and temper in subduing and regulating oar 
affections and passions, as an absence of that anger 
and rage >and fury which nsually transports us 
upon ordinary and trivial provocations, we could 
not but acknowledge the great advantage men have 
by it. Solomon seems to tequire nothing ctee to 
malce a wise man ; " He that is slow to anger is of 
great understandings" Prov.nv. 29. And indeed, 
there is nothing so much corrupts and destroys 
and infatuates the understanding a^ anger and 
passion ; insomuch as men of very indifferent parts, 
by the advantage of temper and composure, are 
much wiser, and fitter for great .actions, and are 
usually more prosperous, than men of more, subtle 
and sublime parts, of more quickness and &ncy, 
with the warmth and choler that many times at- 
tends those compositions : '' He that is hasty of 
spirit exaljteth folly," says Solomon, Prov. jdv. 29; 
th^ is, so improves his folly, that he seems more 
£E>o]ish than in truth he is ; he says things he does 


oot iateod. to say, and does things he does not fft. 
tend to do» and refreshes his enemieo with the folly 
of his anger: whereas the temperate, nurash, and 
diapasslonate man is always at home, and, by Ueing 
Dnmoyed. himself, discerns all advantages whilst he 
giFca none. " He that is slow to anger Is better 
than the mighty, and he that raleth his spirit than 
he that taketh a city," Prov. xvi. 32. One trana- 
lation renders it, " qoi domiaatnr animo sno, expog. 
natorest ucbiam;" he that can snppiress his paa- 
siona ia even the master of all cities, no stren^ 
can resist him. So that if we intended nothii« 
bat oor own ease, and bene^t, and advaotage, we 
have reason to apply ourselves to and stu^tUs 
temper, in which the precepts of the philosephen 
giire us ample instmc^ons, and the practice of 
mere heathen men have left us notaUe and envious 
examples : but the obligations of Christianity carry 
us much farther; we mast add to temperance pa» 
tience, which is a Christian virtue of so high a qua. 
lification^ that TertuUian translates that direction 
of our Saviour in the 2lBt chapter of St.Luke'i 
gospel^ ver. 19, " In your patience possess yoor 
soals," " per tolerantiam salvos facietis vosmet* 
ipsos," you shall save your eouls by your patience; 
which, if we could be persuaded in any degree to 
give credit to, we would not so much indulge to 
that licence of our impatient humour^ as we do 
upon the least accidental crosses. 

The exercise of this necessary Christian duty 
depends principally upon the attending and wait- 
ing Ood'd own time and leisure for the receiving 
those blessings^ which, upon the conscieiipe of 
having according to our weak abilities endeavoured 

74 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

to please him, we may confidently pray for and ex- 
pect, and onr hamble and dutiful submissions to 
such afflictions and calamities as he hath or shall 
lay upon us; for we must provide a stock of pa- 
tience for the crosses that mav befall as : and from 
these two branches of patience, we may gather 
fruit enough to refresh us throughout our whole 
journey in this world. Toward the attaining the 
first, if we would ingenuously and faithfully con- 
suit our own practice in matters' of this world, our 
own rules of good husbatidry, we could not think 
this waiting and expecting God's leisure, in the 
conferring his blessings and benefits, so grievous 
as it appears to us. How willing are we to lay 
out our estates in the purchase of reversions, many 
times for somewhat that younger men than our- 
selves must die before we enjoy it; and if they 
outlive us, our money is lost ? And yet with the 
unreasonable confidence that we shall hereafter 
enjoy it, and with the comfort of that expectation, 
wie -cheerfully endure the present wants and delay. 
If we make any suit to the king, or our superiors, 
how well are we satisfied and contented, if we have 
the promise of the thing we ask a year hence, 
when it is more than an even lay that we live not 
till that time, and there are in our view a thousand 
contingencies which may disappoint us, if we de 
live so long ? Nay, we choose rather, and we think 
there is a merit in that modesty,- jto ask somewhat 
thiat is to come, rather than any thing for the pre- 
sent. But we are not willing to lay out one prayer, 
tor disburse one innocent act of our life to God 
upon a reversion. If we receive his promise, we 
reckon every day's delay an injury, though it be 


only a promise for the fiitiire. So that, pretend 
what we will, and magnify. what we can onr reli- 
gion towards Ood, and our confidence in him, we 
do in truth less bdiere and credit him, than any 
friend or companion we have. ^ If we did otberwiae, 
we slionid better observe his precepts of patience, 
and reliance upon him ; and beliere, that as they> 
who can bear the present want, in the end gain 
most who deal in reversions; so if we would for- 
bear our present murmurings and importunities, 
and stay the full tiroie, tifi the interruptions (pur 
own sims or his providence) cast in the; way, are 
worn out, we should in the end receive a large in- 
terest for all our expectation, and have cause tc| 
magnify our purchase ; we should rather conclude, 
ivhen' we are disappointed, that the conditions 9ve 
aroken on our part, which we are so unapt to per. 
form, thaki that God hath broken his promise, 
which he was never known to do; we should call 
to oar memory, that most of the calamities which 
l)t'fell his own chosen peoplej proceeded from their 
)wn murmuriugs and impatience, and that the* 
east impatience towards him, grows by degrees to 
m infidelity in him, which we cannot be 
hbught guilty of: we should remember with what 
iisdain we iook upon those who will not take opr 
ivord, which many times is not in our power to 
keep,' seldom in our will; and yet we make no 
scruple to doubt the accompUshment of God's 
word, though we know all things to be in his power, 
and whatsoever is good for us in his purpose: 
whereas patiience is so much and jso essentially of 
the character of a Christian, that no performance 
of our duty, and of his commands on our part, can . 

7$ LOU> CLARXNDOir'8 B88AT*. 

be a lecnrity and an assurance of his blesnni 
vpoii us without it ; which was very evident to St 
AaXf when, in the. 10th chapter of his epistle U 
the Hebrews, at the 36th verse, he says, ** For yt 
have need of patience, that after ye have done thi 
will of God, ye might receive the promise;*^ as « 
God had made no promise to those who are do( 
patient to expect his performance. The truth », 
<f0d cannot so well Icnow, that is, we do not m 
weU and dearly manifest, that we have done hit 
wlU out of piety and devotion to him, as by oni 
'pBtienc€ to wait his pleasure when we have dont 
it. There m^y be design in the practice of aH 
eatertud ditties of Christianity for oar advantage 
in this world : the formal outward profesiaon d 
relii^on may be, and we see too often is, to gei 
4N> much reputation, and interest, and dependeac^ 
with men, as may enable us to destroy relfgion; 
our eaeercise of charity may have. pride and vanitj 
to be recommended and magnified, aiid even covet- 
ousnesa iii it, that we may get credit enough to 
.oppress other men, and upon the stock of that 
one public virtue, be able to practise twenty secret 
vrieiKednesaes. But our patience (I speak of that 
Christian patience of waiting God's own time foi 
the receiving those blessings we pray for, and is ai 
laitemal submission of the mind to him) can haw 
no stratagem upon this world, nor do us credit and 
advantage with ill. men, being all that time sub- 
jected to their insolence, reproach, and tyranny ; 
- and therefore St. James makes it the end and com- 
plement and crown of all that we do :" Let pa- 
tience have her perfect work, that ye may be per- 
iifict aad entire, wanting nothing," Jatteai. 4. 


.Wludh though TremeUins renders, '^ et in nnllA re 
titis destituti," as if patience sd sapplied all wants 
and defects, that we are not over sensible or f;rieved 
with those wants, yet the Vulgar (and with. that 
Beza concurs) hath it, ** nt sitis integri, in nnllo 
deficientes," that you may be entire, wanting in 
nothing ; which seems most agreeable with the ori-^ 
ipnal : as if it were impossible we could h^ defect- 
ive in any thing, if we were endowed with patience, 
which can proceed only from the consdence of 
liaying done onr duty, or the reasonable confidence 
that God hath accepted us as if we had ; for the 
bold habitual wicked man, pretend what he will to 
temper and sobriety, never bad, never can have pa- 
tience. Though this incomparable sovereign vinne 
is of great use and comfort to us in the whole course 
of onr life, be it never so pleasant and protperons, 
without any interruptions of nature, by infirmities, 
sickness, or diseases, or accidents of fortune in the 
casual interruptions in our very conversation and 
commerce virith men, yet the most signal and glo- 
rious use of it is in our adversity smd calamity, 
when the hand of God is heavy upon as, by the 
perfidiousness of friends, the treachery of servants, 
the power, injustice, and oppression of those men 
with whom we are to live ; and in tiiose ^ictionB, 
which deprive us of the comfort of our families, 
the supply of our estates, the joy of our liberty, 
and all those particulars which render life pleasant 
to us; and in liCn thereof expose us to want and 
poverty, and to the insolence and contempt which 
usually attends that miserable condition. And tmly, 
in this case, if we could give ourselves no other ar- 
gument for patience, metbinks It shoold be enpngh 

78 LORD clarendon's essAvs. 

that never any man found ease, ^nefit, of reUefy 
by impatience, bnt iraproTes, and extends, and mnU 
tiplies the agony, and pain, and misery of whatso- 
ever calamity hie undergoes by it ; whereas patience 
lessens and softens the burden, and by degrees 
raises the constitution and strength to that pitch, 
that it is hardly sensible of it. And if we would 
but deal faithfully with ourselves and the world, 
and report and acknowledge how much we have 
found ourselves ^the better for our adversity; how 
by it we have corrected the follies and infirmities 
of our nature, impit>ved the faculties of our mind 
and understanding, mended ourselves towards God 
and man ; we should be- so far from needing, pa- 
tience to bear it, that we should even thirst, and long 
and desire to' undergo ii : ** It is good for me that 
I have been afflicted (says the man after God's own 
heart) that I might learn thy statutes,*' Psal. cxix. 
71. He that had been brought up from his cradle 
in the knowledge of God,, and lived suitable to that 
education, learned more from his affliction than he 
had done all his life before : that presented all his 
infirmities to him' in a true mirfor; he discerned 
his pride and his passion in their own colours, which 
appeared before to him only in the dress of nu^esty 
and powar. The greater and the higher we are in 
place, the more we want this sovereign remem- 
brancer. Mean and inferior people have their 
faults as often objected to them as they commit 
them, it may be'oftener; the counsels of friendsi 
the emulation, ^my, and of^position, of equals, the 
malice of their enemies, and the authority and 
prejudice in their superiors, will often present their 
defects to them, and interrupt any career of their 


paaa&OB and vanity; but princes and great, men, 
who can bare few friends (because friendship pre- 
sopposeth some kind of equality), whose counsel- 
lors are commonly compilers with their humours, 
and flatterers of their infirmities, who are seldom 
checked by want of success in what, they propose 
to themselves, hare little help but their own, ob- 
servation and experience to cure their follies and 
defects ; and that observation and experience is 
never so pregnant and convincing, as under adver* 
sity, which refreshes tlie memory, makes it revolve 
that which was purposely laid aside that it- might 
never be remembered ; reforms and sharpens the 
understanding, and faithfully collects all that hath 
been lejft undone, or hath been done amiss, and 
presents itsto the judgment; which, now the clouds 
and fiimes and mists of pride,< ambition, and flat- 
tery, that used to transport and intoxicate and 
mislead it, are dispersed,. discerns what misfortunes 
attended those faults, what ruin that wiekedness, 
the gradation and progress each error hath made, 
and how close the punishment, had attended the 
transgression : every faculty of the mitid does its 
office exactly, so that how disturbed and disquieted 
soever the body is, without doubt the mind. was 
never in better health than under this examination. 
Besides, if there were no other good to be expected 
from it, than what keeps it company ; if we were 
not sure by well bearing it to be freed from it, and 
rewarded for it; the very present benefit and^ ad-f 
vantages it ^ives us, and jpves us. title to,- renders 
it most ambitiously to be desired ; it entitles us to 
the compassion and^ pity of all good men : " To 
him that is alBicted pity should be^shewed from his 

80 Loiii> clarendon's wrnrvv 

Atoid,*' says Job vi. 14. Nay, it gives us a titie to 
aolVation itself: '' For thou wilt save the afflicAed 
people,'* says holy David, Psal. zviii. 27. Yet not- 
withstanding all these invitations and promises, 
all the examples of good men, and the blessings 
which have crowned those examples, all our own 
experience of ourselves, that we have really gained 
more unden>tanding and more piety in one year's 
affliction than in the whole course of our prosper- 
ous fortunes, we are so far froqi a habit of patience, 
and so weary of our sufferings, that we are even 
ready to exchange our innocence to change our 

There was never an age. In which men under- 
went greater (rials by adversity, and I fear scaice 
an age in which there was a less stock of patience 
to bear it ; never more tribulation, never less glory* 
ing in tribulation. We are all, ready enough' to 
magniiy our sufferings, and our merit in those snf- 
ferings, to make the world believe we have under- 
gone them out of our piety to God, and devotion to 
his worship^ out of our sdlegianoe to our sowereign 
lord the king, and because we would not consent 
to the violation of that, and the wresting his rights 
from him by violence ; out' of our tender affection 
-to our native country, and because wO would not 
consent that should be subject to the exorbitant 
lawless power of ambiti^ous wicked men; the suffer- 
ing for^ither of which causes (and we would have 
it believed we suffer Johitly for them all) entitles us 
justly to the merit of martyrdom ; yet we are so 
ftu* from comforting and delighting ourselves with 
the conscience of having performed our duty, and 
from the m^ofiug that ease and quiet whiclu aa^ 


turally results from innoceiice, that we rather mur- 
OMir and ceusnreand reproach God Almighty, for 
giving the trophies we have deserved to those whb 
have oppressed us ; and study nothing more^ than 
stratagems to impose upou that conscience we are 
weary of, and to barter away our innocence, that 
we may be capable of overtaking those in their 
prosperous wickedness, from whom we would be 
thought to have fled for conscience sake ; and in- 
stead of a confident attending and waiting God's 
time to vindicate himself and us (for if our suffer- 
ings proceeded from those grounds and principles 
we pretend, it were so much his own cause that we 
should be sure of his vindication) we make excuses 
for the little good we have done, and even renounce 
it by professing to be sorry for 'it ; and that we 
may be sure to find no check from our reason, 
when we have prevailed with our conscience, we 
corrupt and bribfe our understandings with fallacious 
argumentations, and argue ourselves into a liking 
of our Btapidity, as if we did nothing but what Qod 
required at our hands; we say, God expects we 
should help ourselves, and by natural means en- 
devoured to remove from us those afflictions and 
calamities jvhich the power of ill men has brought 
upon us ; that God doth assist and bless those en- 
deavours : on the other hand, if we sit still, and 
without any industry of our own lools for super- 
natural deliverance, we presume to put God to a 
miracle, -which he will work for us, and that he 
will- countenance our lethai^ic laziness. Having 
by tliis argumentation brought ourselves to an ac- 
tivity, Ave must then guide ourselves by what is pios- 
sible, asd what is practicable, that is, by such ruleft 

E 2 


and mediums ad they have Mt dowo, with tvhtom 
our transactions m^st be admitted. When we are 
then in any struts, which before onr setting ont we 
'would not foresee, we have a maxim at hand to 
curry us on. Of two evils, the least is to be chosen. 
If we can prevent this mischief, which seems to nrs 
Ipreater, thongh we are guilty of another trfakh 
atems less, all is well : ei^pecially if our formil and 
temporary and dissembled consent to this or tbltl iH 
act, enaUes us or gives us a probable hope (wliieti 
n a flattery we much delight ourselves, and are al- 
ways furnished with) of undoing or reversing tho^ 
mischiefs, whidi for the present we are not, or 
think ourselves not able to prevent. And hil^ng 
thus spedously reduced the practice of Christianity 
to the notions of civil prudence and worldly policy, 
we insensibly run into all the guilt we have hitherto 
with damage and loss avoided, and renounce all 
the obligations of piety and religion by out <MHod« 
aqpostacy It is true^ God "expects we should per- 
form all OB our parts that H lawful to be donre'il^ 
our own behoof; but when we have done that, he 
will fasve us rely on him for our deliverance, how 
fiftant soever it seems from «g, rather than at- 
teaft to deliver oursetfei by any means not agree- 
aUe te hia precise pleasure. Neither ean tlTet^ be 
aa> stupid ii reliance upon a miracle, as th«l God 
aboidd suffer us to preserve or redeem oursciTes by 
ill and crooiied arts, and eontrtbute his blesMngs 
upon such a preservation ; which wobM be Move 
ndraeulousy than what seema to thenr most wiMii- 
derM. There cannot be a more mischievous po- 
aitiom than that we should be ttlwaya doing, ak 
vrttyBeBdean>ud>irtoMr(MiM0?ei. NedMlthMli 


}mt bis way iti a dark night, and all the marlu hy 
i^hi<^ he should goide himself, and know whether 
he he in the way or not, cannot do so wisely M lo 
sit stUl till the morning; especially if he Urayel 
upon such uneven ground and precipices, that the 
least mistake in footing may prove fatal to him : 
and it will be the same in our other journey ; i/ we 
are benighted in our understandings, and so no 
path to tread in but wheire thorns and briars and 
^akes are in oor way, and where the least de» 
viation from the right track will lead us Into la- 
iiyrioths, irom whence we cannot be safely disen- 
tangled, it will become us, how bleak and stormy 
ooev^ the niisbt is, how grievous and pressing so* 
ever our adversity is, to have patience till the light' 
appears, tiiat we may have a full prospect of o«r 
way, and of all that lies in our way. if the madloe 
and power of enanies oppress us, and drive us to 
those exigents^ that there appears to us no expe* 
dient to avoid utter rain, but submitting and con- 
earring with their wickedness, we ought to betie ve 
that either Go4 will convert their hearts, or find 
some other as extraordinary way to deliver us; 
and if he does not, that then our ruin is necessary, 
wd that he will make it more happy to ns than osr 
deliverance would be. We have no such liberty 
hit us to choose one evil, under pretence that we 
avoid a greater by so dmng. It may be a good 
rule m matter of damage and inconvenience ; bnt 
that which in itself is sim^^y evil, mast not he con«> 
sented to under any extenuation or excuse ; and 
the projject of doing (pood, or redeeming the ill we 
have done, by such concessions, is more vain, more 
myttsttfiaUe. We are so £ur frum any warrant &>r 

84 LOSD^ clarendon's essays. 

those VBdertakin^, that we have an infallible text, 
^' That we*are not to do evil that good may come 
of it ;" we ought not to presume that God will gke 
ns time and opportunity to do it, and then the In- 
tention of doing well will he uo good^seuse fcn't^e 
ill we have actually committed ; neither have we 
reason to be confident that we shall have the virill 
to'do it, if we have the opportunity ; since every 
transgression, so deliberated and resolved on, leaves 
the mind vitiated and less inclined to good ; aud 
there is such a bashfulness naturally attends on 
guilt, that we have not afterwards the same alacrity 
to do well, and grow ashamed and afraid of that 
conversation, without which it will not be possible 
for us to do that good. It will be said, our not 
concurring in this particular act, may ruin us, bnt 
not hinder the act from being done ; and ther^ore 
that it- is too vain an affectation of ^our ruin to op- 
pose that so fruitlessly : and this consideration and 
objection, I fear, hath prevailed over too many to 
submit to that which they have long opposed, as not ' 
agreeable to their understandings and conscience; 
that they have done their parts, opposed it as long 
as they were able ; that it shall be done whether 
they will or no ; and that it is only in their power 
to perish with what they would preserve, but not 
to preserve it b/ perishing ; and therefore, that 
they may for their own preservation join in the do- 
ing that, or consenting to it, which will be done in 
spite* of any resistance they can mal^e. This is said 
in the business of the church : it is actually op^ 
pressed ; the government of it actually and re- 
medilessly altered ; nothing that I can say or da 
can preserve it ; aud that the question is not, wbe« 



tber I wohM desire to preserve both church aod 
kiiifilem, but whether, when there can be one, and 
'tHit one preserved, I Mrill lose that becanse I cannot 
keep both. But these arguments cannot' prevail 
ymth a conscience informed and guided aright. If 
my religion oblige me to do my duty no longer than 
conveniently I might, and that when wants and 
necessities and dangers pressed upon me, I might 
recede and yield to what I believe wicked or un> 
lawful, I had no more to do, but to make that ne- 
cessity and danger evident to the world for my ex- 
cuse. But no union and consent in wickedness can 
make my guilt the less ; and if nothing I can do can 
preserve the church, it is in my power to preserve 
my own innocence, and to have no hand in its de- 
struction; and I ought to value that innocence 
above all the conveniences and benefits my sub- 
mission can bring to me. And I must confess, I 
wantiogic to prove to myself, that it maybe lawfbl 
for me to do that to recover or redeem my fortune, 
tvhich was not lawful for me to do to preserve it ; 
or that after I have borne great afflictions and ca- 
lamities; I may conscientiously consent to that, 
which, if I could have done, I might havd prevented 
all those calamities. No man is so insignificant as 
that he can be sure his example can do no hurt. 
There is naturally such a submission of the undei*- 
standing, as many do in truth think that lawful to 
be done which they see another do, of whose judg- 
ment and • integrity they have a great opinion ; so 
that my example may work upon others to do what 
no other temptation or suffering jzould induce them 
to ; nay, it may not only increase the number" of 
the guilty, but confirm those, who, out of their ro* 

86 UORO CLAltB|iDON'$ E6SAY8. 

Tei^nce to my carriage and consimcf, beg^n to 
repent the ill they had done; and whosoever is 
truly repenting, thinks at the same time of repiar- 
Ing. I doubt many men in these ill times hsve 
found themselves unhappily engaged In a partner- 
ship of mischief/ before they apprehended they 
were out of the right w&y> by seriously delieTing 
what this man said (whose learning smd knowledge 
was confessedly eminen^) to be law, and isiplidtly 
ccmcluding what another did (whose repntation lor 
honesty and wisdom was as general) to be just and 
prudent ; and I pray God, the faults of those misled 
men may not be imputed to the other, who ha?e 
weight enough of their own, and their rery know- 
ledge and honesty increase their damnfttioQ. ** If 
thou faint in the day of adversity, thy streogtili is 
small," says Solomon^ Prov. x»v. JiO. " Sidespera- 
veris lassus," says the vulgar Latin; if being we^iry 
or £^nt, thou despair, .thy strength is small ; it 
^ws thou hast done weU out of design, and in 
expectation of prospering by it; and being dis- 
ap|>Ointed, thou even repentest the having done thy 
duty : for thy strength and courage being grounded 
only on policy, it mult needs be small ; whereas. 
If it had been grounded on conscience and piety to- 
wards God, thou cottldest never despair of bis as- 
Mstance and protection. Treraellius renders that 
text more severely, - ^ Si remisse te geras tempore 
angustiae, angusta erit virtus tua ;" If thou art less 
vigorous in the time of trouble, thy virtue is not 
virtue, but a narrow slight disposition to good, ne- 
ver grown into a habit. " In the day of prosperity 
t)e jtyful, but in the day of adversity consider," 
«»y8 the preacher. Tremellius renders it, ** Tempore 


aatem mali vtere ;" Uae the time of trouble, cm* 
ploy it so that thon raayest be the better for it, and 
thac others may be the better by thy. deportment. 
It was observed in the primitiTe time, that there 
were more men converted to Christiauity by the 
death of every martyr, than by all their sermons 
and actions of .their life; and thence itwasssdd, 
" Sanguis martymm est semen ecclesis;" Not only 
that the confinnation of their doctrine with their ' 
blood perstiaded many that it was the truth for 
which many were so ready to pour om their blood, 
but thai their demeanour at their death, their great 
courage and patience, and contempt of tortures and 
p^n, made many believe that there was d satis* 
faction and pleasure and joy in those opinions, 
which was so much superioj: and above the agony ^ 
and pain of death, that a mind refreshed with the 
one, preserved the body from the sense and feeling 
of the other; insomuch, as the prosecutors them- 
selves, who could not be moved with the orations 
and sermons and disputations Of the prisoners, were 
converted by beholding them at the stake. And we 
oftentimes see passionate and violent men, whose 
animosities and reVenge no charity or Christian pre- 
cepts c<fnld suppress and extinguish, so astonished 
with the brave and constant carriage of their iul- 
versaries in their afflictions, which have been un- 
justly brought upon them by the other, that their 
very reverence to their sufferings have begot a re- 
morse in them, and a reparation of their wrongs : 
nay, we often see ill men, who have justly fallen 
under heavy calamities, beh&ve themselves so vrell 
under them, that all prejudice hath been ;thereby i 
reconciled toward then!. To conclude, wouldM 

86 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

thou convert' thy adversary to an admiration and 
value aud affection to thee, to a true sense of the 
wrong-he hath done thee, there is no such way, as 
by^ letting him see by thy firm and cheerful sub- 
mitting to adversity, that thou hast a peace about 
thee of which thou canst not be robbed by him, and 
of which in all his power he is not possessed. If 
his heart be so hardened, and his conscience seared j 
that thou canst this way make no impression on 
him toward his conversiofk, thou shalt however more 
perplexand grieve and torment his mind with envy 
of thy virtue, than he can thine with all his in- 
solence and oppression. } v 


Montpellier, 16C9. 

'' O Death, how bitter is the remembrance of 
thee to a man that liveth at rest in his. possessions^ 
and to the man that hath nothing to vex him, and 
thM hath prosperity in all things ; yea, unto him 
tliat is yet able to receive meat : O Death, accept- 
able is thy sentence to the needy, and unto him 
whose strength faileth, that is now in the last age, 
and is vexed with all things, and to him that des- 
paireth, and hath lost patience ;" was the reflection 
of the son of Sirach, upon the several affections 
and humours and contingencies in the life of man. 
(xU. i, 2.) But without doubt, the very prosperous 
mt^n, who seems to be most at ease, and with'oiU 
any visible outward vexation, is as weary very fre^ 
quently of life (for satiety of; all things natundly 

«r COMTfiMPT or 1>EATiU 99 

produces a satieCy of life itself,) as the most mUer- 
able man, whose appetite of life seems even by this 
obeerration to ooiitiBue as loog as his appetite of 
meat ; for as long as he is able to receive meat, the 
lanembrance of death is bitter to him. The phi- 
losophers who most undervalued life and most con^ 
temncd death, and thought it worthy a serious 
meiKtatlon and recoilection, ** Utrum commodins 
sity vel mortem tramdre ad nos, vel nos ad eam," 
wfaetiiier we should stay till death calls upon ns, or 
we eall upon it ; and beliet^ed that it was the greatest 
obligation that Providence had laid upon mankind, 
'* Quod unum introitum nobis ad vitam dedit, eatus 
ranltoe ;" and that it was therefore a very foolish 
thiog to eomplatn of life, when they may determine 
it when they will : " Hoc est unuioD, cur quod de 
vit4 Bon possimus queri ; neminem tenet ;'* they 
may choose whether they will live or no : and though 
men' were obliged to make their lives conformable 
to the good examples oi other men, in the manner 
of their death th^ were only to please themselves, 
'^ Optima est quae placet ;" yet there was a great 
diflerence in this ' point between the philosopheif 
themselves; and many of them held it very un- 
lawfal, and a great wickedness, ibr any man to offer 
violeaoeto himself, and to deprive himself of his own 
Hfie, and *' Exspectandum esse exitnm qucm natura 
decrent :" and surely, excluding all other con. 
siderations, there seems to be more fortitude and 
ooenige In dadog to live miserably, and to undergo 
those assaults which that life i's liable to, tlian in 
preventing and redeeming himself from it by a snd^ 
den voluntary death ; and the other party, which 
most ^sliked and professed against this restraint^ 


as the contradtction of that iibdrty in which inau 
was born, as very few of them in their practice 
parted voluntarily with their liyes, so in their dis- 
courses they kept the balance equal ; and as they, 
would not have their disciples too much in love 
vnih life, to set too high and too great a value upon 
it, so they would by no means suffer them to con- 
teihn, much less hate, it ; '' Ne uimis amemus vi- 
tam, et ne uimis oderimus •" they had so many 
cautions and hesitations and distinctions about the 
abandoning of life, that ^ man may see that death 
was no pleasant prospect to them. He who would 
kill himself ought to do it with deliberation and 
decency, ** Non fiigere debet e vitd, sed exire;" and 
above all, that *' libido moriendi " was abominable, 
it must not be a dislike of life, but a satiety in it, 
that disposed them to part with it. The truth is, 
though they could have no-farther reflections in this 
disquisition, than were suggested to them by a full 
consideration of the law of nature,^ and the obliga- 
tions thereof, >and could not consider it as a thing 
impious in itself as it related to heaven and hell, 
yet the difference that was in their view was very 
great between being and not being, and their little 
or no comprehension what was done after death, 
or whether any thing succeeded or no, that many 
of them from thence valued life the more, and some 
of them the less. 

The best Christians need not be ashamed to 
sharpen, to raise their own contemplations and de- 
votions, by their reflection upon the discourse of 
the heathen philosophers ; but they may be ashamed 
if from those reflections their piety be not in- 
deed both instructed apd exalted: and if their 


mere' reason coald raise- and incite them to,8o great 
a reverence for virtue, and so solicitous a pursuit 
of ity we may well blush if our very reason, so 
much informed by them^ be not at least equal to 
theirs ; and being endowed and strengthened with 
clear notions of religion, it doth not carry us higher 
than they were able to moimt, and to a perfection 
they were not' able to ascend to. We may learn 
from thenTto undervalue life so much, as not affect 
it above the innocence of living or living innocently ; 
we may so far learn from them to contemn death, 
as not to avoid it with, the guilt or infamy of living. 
But then the consideration of heaven and hell, the 
reward and punishment which will inevitably at- 
tend our living and dying well or ill, will both raise 
and fix our thoughts of life and death in another 
light than they were accustomed to; neither of 
those Lands of Promise having been contained in 
their map, or in any degree been exposed to their 
prospect ; and nothing but the view of those land«- 
marks can infuse into us a just esteem of life, and 
a just apprehension of death. Christianity then 
doth neither oblige us not to love life, or not to 
fear death, but to love life so little, that we 
may fear death the less. Nothing can so well pre- 
pare us for it, as a continual thinking upon it ; 
and our very reason methinks should keep us think- 
ing of that which we know must come, and cannot 
know when ; and therefore the being much sur- 
prised with the approach of it is as well a discredit 
to our reason as to our religion ; and beyond an 
humble and contented expectation of it religion re- 
quires not from us : It being impossible for any 
mm who is bound to pay money upon demand, not 

92 LOED clarendon's SSBAYS. 

to think of having the monejr ready against it is de- 
manded; nor doth any man resolve to make a 
joaniey, without providing a viaticum for that jour- 
ney ; and this preparation will serve onr torn ; that 
** libido moriendi" is noinjanctionof Christianity ; 
and we know in the primitive times, that' as great 
pains were taken to remove those fears and appre** 
hensions oat of the hearts of Christians, which 
terrified them oat of their religion, by "presenting 
to them the great reward and joy and pleasure 
which they were sure to be possessed of who died 
for their religion; so there was no less to restrain 
them from being transported with such a zeal, as 
mado tliem> out of the affectation of martyrdom, to 
call for it, by finding out and reproaching the 
judges, 4ind declaring their faith unasked, that 
Shqr might be put to death ; to be contented to die 
when they could not honestly avoid it, was the true 
martyrdom. We need not seek death out, it will 
oome in its due time : and if we then conform de- 
cently to its summons, we have done what is ex- 
pected from us. There are so many commendable 
and worthy ends for which we may desire to live, 
that we may very lawfully desire that our death 
may be deferred. St. Paul himself, who had been 
so near heaven that he was not sure that he had 
not been there, was put to a stand, and corrected 
his impatience to be there again, with the con- 
sideration of the good he might do by living and 
ocmtinuing in this world ; <' I am in a stnut be^ 
twUt two, having a desire to depart and to be with 
Christ, which is far better : nevertheless, to abide 
in the .fiesh is more needful for you,*' Phil. i. 33, 
24. He knew well his own plaee there which was 


referred for him, but he knew as Well that the 
longer his jotiniey thither was deferred, he ahooM 
have the more compaby there ; and this made hit 
choice of life, eren upon the comparisoa, very war^ 
rantable. Men may rery pionsly desire to hwe, to 
comply with the very obligation of nature in che<- 
riahing their wives and bringing np their children, 
and to enjoy the blessings of both : and that fat 
may contribute to the peace and happlneaa and 
prosperity of his country, he may heartily pray not 
to die. Length of days is a particular blening 
Ood Touchsafes to those he favours most, tm gtving 
them thereby both a task and opportunity to do 
the more good. They who are most weary of IHe, 
and yet are most UQwilUng to die, are such who 
iiiive lived to no purpose ; who have rather breathed 
than lived. They who pretend to the apostle's 
ecstasy, and to desire a dissolution from a religions 
nauseating the folly stod wickedness of this world, 
and out of a devout contemplatioh of the joys of 
Viaaven^ admibister too much cause of doubting, 
that they seem to triumph over nature more than 
they have cause, and that they had rather live tiU 
the* next year than die in this. He who believes 
the world not v^orthy of him, may in truth be 
thought not worthy of the world. If men are not 
willing to be deprived of their fortunes and pre- 
ferments a^d liberty, which are but the ordinary 
perquisites of life, they may very justifiably be 00^ 
willing to be deprived; of fife itself, upon which 
those conveniences depend ; and death is accom- 
panied with many things, which we are not ol>liged 
solicitously to covet. We are well prepared for it. 

94 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

wh^D by continual thinking upon it we are so pre 
pared, as not to be in any degree terrified with the 
approach of it, and at the resigning our life into his 
hands who gave it ; and a temper beyond this is 
rather to be imagined than attained, by any of 
those rules of understanding which accompany a 
man that is in good health of body and mind ; and 
the -sickness and infirmity of either is more like to 
amaze and corrupt the judgment, than to elevate 
and inspire it with any rational, transcendent, and 
practical speculations. The best counsel is to pre- 
pare the mind by still thinking of it, " Illis gravis 
est, qnibus est repentina, facile eam sustinet qui 
semper exspectat.'* No doubt it must exceedingly 
disorder all their faculties, who cannot endure the 
mention of it, and do sottishly believe (for many 
such sots there are) that they shall die the^ooner, 
'if they do any of those things which dying people 
used to do, and which nobody ought to defer till 
that season : and there cannot be a better expedient 
to enable men to pass that time with courage and 
moderate cheerfulness, than so to have dispatched 
and settled all the business of the world when a 
maa is in health, that he may be vacant, when sick- 
ness comes, from all other thoughts but such as 
are fit to be the companions of death, and from all 
other business but dying ; which, as it puts an end 
in a moment to all that is mortal, so it requires the 
operation of more than is mortal to make that last 
moment agreeable and happy. 


' • 


. Montpellier, 1670. 

Friendship must have some extraordinary ex- 
cellence in it, when the great philosopher as wril 
as hest orator commends, it to ns to prefer l>efore 
all things in the world; " Utamicitlam omnibus 
rebus hnmanis anteponatis :*' and it must be very 
precious, when it was the circumstance that made 
David's highest affliction most intolerable, that his 
lover and his friend was put from him ; and there 
could be no aggravation of the misery he endured, 
when his own familiar friend, in whom he trusted, 
was turned against him. This heroical virtue is 
pretended to by all, but understood or practised 
by very few, which needs no other manifestation, 
than that the choleric person thinks it an obligation 
upon his friend to assist him in a murder ; the un- 
thrifty and licentious person expects that friend-, 
ship should oblige him who pretends to love him, 
to waste all his estate in riots and excesses, by be- 
coming bound for him, and- so liable to pay those 
debts which his pride and vanity contract. In a 
word, there is nothing that the most unreasonable 
faction, or the most unlawful.combination and con- 
spiracy, can be applied to compass, which is not 
thought by those who should govern the world to be 
the proper and necessary office of friendship ; and 
that the laws of friendship are extremely violated 
and broken, if it doth not engage in the perform- 
ance of all those offices, how unjust and unworthy 
soever. And thus the sacred name of friendship, 
and aH the generous duties which result from .it> 


are dishonoured and discredtted, as if the j oonld be 
applied to the propagation of vice, or to the jsup- 
port of actions inconsistent with discretion and 
honesty. The son of Sirach had no snch imagina- 
tion, when he pronounces, that *' a faithful friend 
is the medicine of life, and they that fear tlie Lord 
shall find him :" if be be a gift that God bestows 
upon them who fear him, they will not lose both 
the gift and the giver upon vile and unworthy en* 
(doyments. Let us therefore, lest this precious 
blessed composition l>e driven out of the world, by 
the falsehood and nolence of those who pretend to 
adore it, or withdraw itself from manliind, beouise 
there are so few breasts prepared to receive and 
entertain it, in the first place, examine what in 
truth friendship is ; Vhat are the obligations of it ; 
.and what persons, by the excellence or comiptioa 
of tbeit natures, are capable or incapable of bei^ig 
possessed of it, and receiving the effi^cts of it« It 
may be, it is easier to describe, as most men have 
done who have writ of it, than to define friendship { 
yet I know not why it may not rightly be dciiaod to 
be, an union between just and good men, in their 
joint interest and concernment, and for the. ad- 
vancement thereof : for it hath always been con- 
sented to, that there can be no friend.Hhip bat be* 
tween good men, liecause friendship can never be 
severed from justice; and consequently can never 
l»c applied to corrupt ends. It is the first law of 
friendship, if we believe Tully, who saw as far into 
it as any man since, **utneque rogeinus res tarpes, 
nee fadamifs rogati :" which puts ^n end to aU 
their endeavours, who would dnw any corrupted 
liqaor from so pure a fountain. ^ Friendahip neither 

OF TttiEKbsnfp. 97 

requires nor consents to any thing that is not pnre 
and sineere ; they who introdnce the least spot or 
crooked line into the draught and poitraiture of 
frieodsf^ip, destroy all its heanty, and render it so 
deformed, that it cannot he known. Let ns then 
«9a«iine, from the integrity of this definition and 
iasUCutidii, what the obligations of it are, and what 
ftiends are bound- nnder that seal to do or suffer 
for one another. 

1* The first and principal obligation is, to assist 
each other with their counsel and advice ; and be- 
cause tho greatest cement that holds and keeps 
them together, is the opinion they have of each 
other's virtue, they are to watch as carefiiUy as is 
possible that neither of them swerve from the strict 
rales thereof; and if the least propensity towards 
it he discovered, to apply admonition and counsel 
and reprehension to prevent a lapse. He who sees 
his friend do dmiss, commit a trespass upon his ho- 
nour or upon his conscience, do that which he were 
better not do, or do that which he ought not to do^ 
and doth not tell him of it, do all he can to reform 
him, faath broken the laws of friendship ; since 
there Is no one obligation to be named with it ; so 
that It may be said to l)e so much the sole use of 
friendship, that where that fails, the performance 
of all other offices is to no purpose ; and it may be 
«AMerved, that few men have ever fallen into any 
signal misfortune, at least not been lost in it, who 
have ever been possessed of a true friend, except it 
be IB a time When virtue is a crime. Counsel and 
reprehension was a duty of the text in the Levitical 
law ; ** Thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neigh- 
iNMiry and not emtkr sin upon him," {Ijcv, idx. 17.) 


98 LORD clarendon's B68AY8. 

and Mr. Selden tell us of a Rabbi, that tboagbt it 
ope of the principal causes of the destruction of 
Jerusalem, because they had left off reproving one 
another, *' Non ezcisa fuisset lerosolima, nisi qno^ 
niam alter alterum non coarguebat ;" and there is 
no doubt, the not exercising this essential part of 
friendship with that sincerity and plainness it ought 
to be, hath been, and is, the occasion of infinite 

. mischief, and hath upon the 'matter annihilated 
friendship, and brought it under the reproach of 
being a pander, and prostituted to all the^yile offices 

- of compliance with ihe infirmities and vices of the 
person it regards. It is thought to be a necessary 
office pf friendship, to conceal the faults of a frienci, 
and make them be thought much less than they are ; 
and it is so : every man ought to be very tender of 
the reputation of one he loves, and to labour that 
he may be well thought of; that is his duty vrith re- 
ference to others : but he is neither to lessen or con> 
ceal it to himself, who can best provide for his re- 
putation, by giving no cause for aspersion ; and he, 
who in such cases gives not good counsel to his 
friend, -betrays him. 

2. The second office of friendship is, to assist the 
interest and pretence of his friend with the utmost 
power he hath, and with more solicitude than, if it 
were his own, as in truth it is ; but then Tully's 
rule is excellent, " Taotum cuique tribnendnm est, 
primmn quantum ipse efficere possis, delude quan- 
tum quem diligas atque adjuves possit sustinere ;" 
men are not willing to have any limits put to their 
desires, but think their friends bound to help them 
to any thing they think themselves fit for. But 
friendship justly considers what in truth they are. 


^Otwhat they think themselves fit for; quantum 
posstaU sustinere : friendship may be deceived, and 
overvalue the strength and capacity of his friend, 
think that he can sustain more than indeed his 
parts are equal to ; but friendship is not so blind, 
as not to discern a total unfitness, an absolute in« 
capadty, and can never be engaged to promote such 
a subject. It can never prefer a man to be a Judge, 
who knows-nothing of ; nor to be a general^ 
who was never a soldier. Promotions, in which th« 
public are concerned, must not be assigned by the 
excess of private affections ; which, though possi* 
hly they may choose the less fit, must never be so 
seduced as not to be sure there is a competent fit- 
■uesa in the person they make choice of : otherwise 
iriendship, that is compounded of justice, wduld 
be unjust to the public, out of private kindness 
towards particular persons ; which is the highest 
injustice imaginable, of which friendship is not 

3. The third duty of fric^ndshfp is entire confi- 
dence and communication, without which faithful 
counsel the just tribute of friendship can never be 
given ; and therefore reservation in friendship is 
like concealment in confession, which makes the 
absolution void, as the other doth the counsel of no 
afGsd, Seneca's advice is excellent, "Din cogita 
an tibi in amicitiam aliquis reciptendus sit :" It is 
want of this deliberation, this long thinking whe* 
ther such a man be capable of friendship, and whe-^ 
ther thou thyself art fit for it, that brings so much 
scandal upon it, makes friendships of a day, or ra- 
ther miscalls every short acquaintance, any light 
conversationy by the title of friendship ; of which 


very many of those are incapable, who are fit enoagk 
for aeqaaintance, and commendable enough in con- 
yersatlon. When thon hast considered this well, 
which thon canst do ^^thont considering it long ; 
turn placuerit fieri y if thou resolvest that he is fit for 
thy friendship, toie ilium pectore admitie, receive 
him into thy bosom ; let him be possessed of all thy 
purposes, adl thy thoughts ; to conceal any thing 
from him now is an affront, and a disavowing him 
for thy friend. It is the reason the Roman chnich 
gives, why they define the reservation and eonoeal- 
ment of any sin, or circumstance of it, in confession 
of it, to be sacrilege, because it defrauds God of 
somewhat that was due to him from the pemtent ; 
and by the same reason, the not entirely communi- 
cating all thon linowest and all thou thinkest is a 
lay sacrilege, a retaining somewhat that is his due 
by the dedication of friendship : and without this 
sincere communication, the principal use of friend- 
ship is abated ancf withheld, and the true rirtue 
thereof undiscovered, and the comfort that at- 
tends it. 

The fourth obligation in friendship is constancy, 
and continuing firm to the laws and obligations of 
it. Friendship is so much more a sacrament than 
marriage is, that in many cases a friend is more to 
he trusted and relied upon than the wife of his bo- 
som ; and so is not to be cast off or dismissed, but 
upon the most discovered and notorious transgres- 
mons ; and even then there will remain some marks, 
yea and obligations, which can never be razed out 
or cancelled. Scipio had never patience so much as 
to hear that proposition of Bias the philosopher 
prononncedA ** Ita amare oportere ut aHqnandd 


esset oflunis/* tha( a mao was to lore his friend in 
snch a manner, that he might hate him likewise if 
there were an occasion; which indeed was a bar-* 
barons advice of a rade Stoic, whose profession wa« 
not to appear like other men* It is possible that a 
iiiend may fall so. £Eur from the laws of firtue and 
jnstlce, and commit such crimes and offences, that^ 
like vi^ting the integrity of the marriage-bed, may 
cause a separation even to the dissolution of friend* 
ship; but it is not possible for a friend to think he 
wU] do so till be hath done it notoriously : and even 
after that time, though the communication which 
constituted the friendship Be interrupted, there re^ 
mains still some inclination ; and he thinks it just 
to pay such a penalty for the error and unskilfuluesr 
of his election^, that he hath still kindness and pity, 
and is never heard to. load his divorced friend with 
reproaches and severe censures; it is grief enough 
not to speak of it at all, but he can never be pro^ 
voked to speak bitterly of him ; ,the grateful me4- 
mory of the past intercourse, and of some virtue 
that was in the object, will preserve him from that 
indecency* There cannot be a greater manifcsta^ 
tion how falsely or weakly the common friendships 
of the age are founded and entered into, than b]F 
every day's observation of men, who profess friend* 
ship this day to those against whom they declare 
to-morrow the most mortal and implacable hatred 
and malice ; and blush not the next day to depress 
the same man with all the imaginable marks of in-* 
famy, whom the day before they extolled with all 
the (.■ommendations and praises which humanity 
is capable of: whei'eas,1u tr^th, natural modesty 
should restrain men, who have been given to speak 

102 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

too well of some mea» from speaking at all ill of the 
same persons, that their iormer excess may be 
thought to proceed from their ~abpndant charity, 
not from the defect of their judgment. Solomon 
thought friendship so sacred a tie, that nothing 
but the discoyery of secrets, which is adultery in 
marriage, could separate from it; and surely a 
greater violation of friendship cannot be than snch 
a discovery, and scarce any other guilt towards the 
person of a friend can be equal to it. But friend- 
ship may be broken and dissolved by faults commit- 
ted against other persons, though of no immediate 
relation to the friend himself. When men cease to 
be of the same virtue they were, or professed and 
seepied to be of, when that conjunction was en- 
tered into : if they cease to be just and pious, and fall 
into the practice of some notorious and scandalous 
vice } friendship is of so delicate a temper, that 
she thinks her own beauty impaired by those spots, 
and herself abandoned by that fonl practice. If the 
avowing a friendship for a corrupt and wicked per- 
son he so scandalous, that the best men cannot bear 
the reproach of it, such a departure from probity 
and a good name will excuse and justify the others 
withdrawing from that virtuous ceiation, so much 
already abandoned by the impiety of the tf ans<* 
gressor ; yet there will remain such a compassion 
towards the person, which Is very consistent with 
the detestation of the vice, that he shall receive 
. all the offices of charity, kindness, and generosity, 
which cannot but still spring from some root or 
branch of the withered and decayed former friend- 
ship, that can never be totally extinguished, though 
the lustre be faded and the vigpur lost. 


Since, then, the temper and composition of friend- 
ship itself is so delicate and spiritaal, that it admits 
BO mere carnal infi^redients, and the obligations of 
it are so inseparable and indispensable, we cannot 
bat discern how many classes of men are utterly 
nncapable of being admitted into that relation ; 
or rather, how very few are worthy to be received 
into the retinue of friendship, which all thie world 
lays a claim to. The proud man can very hardly 
act any part in friendship, since he reckons none 
to be his friends but those who admire him ; and 
thinks very few wise enough to administer advice 
and counsel to him, nor will admits any man to 
have the authority of reprehension, without which 
friendship cannot subsist. The choleric, angry, 
knpatieut man can be very little delighted with it, 
since he abhors nothing so much as contradiction ; 
and friendship exercises no liberty more than that 
of contradicting, finding fiiult with any thing that 
is ampis, and is as obstinate in controuling as the 
most stubl)om nature can be in transgressing. The 
Mcentions and lustful person is so transported with 
those passions which he calls love, that he abhors 
nothing so much as the name of friendship ; which 
he knows would be always throwing water upon 
that fire which he, wishes should still inflame him, 
and endeavouring to extinguish all those appetites, 
the satisfying whereof gives him all the pleasure he 
enjoys in, life. And, lastly, to the covetous, unjust, 
and ambitious person, nothing can be so uneasy, so 
grievous, and so odious, as inendship ; which af- 
fronts all thdr desires and pursuits with rude dis- 
courses of the wealth of contentedness, of the fame 
jof integrity, and of the state and glory of humility. 



and would persuade them to make diemflettes 
happy, by renouucing all those things which they 
care for. There being then such an incoagmUy 
and nnaptness in these several classes of men, whidi 
comprehend so large a part of mankind, to receive 
and give entertainment to this transcendent virtue, 
which: is the ornament of life, that friendship 
seems to be reserved, only for those, who, by being 
already persons of that rare perfection and recti- 
tude, can receive least benefit by it, and so is an 
impertinent^ cordial prepared only for their use who 
eiyoy excellent health, and is not to be applied to 
the weak, sick, or indisposed, for their recovery ot 
preservation ; there is no doubt there must be at 
least a disposition to virtue in all who would ei^ 
tertain, or be entertained in friendship : the seve* 
ral vi^es mentioned before, exalted into hs^lnts, 
liave more poison in them, than the antidote of 
friendship . can expel or. delights to contend with ; 
thei'e must be some declension of their vigour^ 
before they will permit the patient the leisure to 
walk in the gentle and temperate air of any sober 
and serious conversation. But as there is no such 
perfection in nature, nor any such accomfdisliment 
of manners^ no such quality and degree of life to 
which friendship is not exceedingly useful, and 
which doth not receive infinite benefit and advan- 
tage ^y it and from it ; (and therefore if kings and 
princes are incapable of it, by the sublime inequa- 
lity of their persons with men of a lower rank, for 
friendship does suppose some kind of equality, it is 
such an allay to their transcendent happiness^ tha( 
they shall do well, by art and condescension, ta 
make themselves fit for that which nature hath tiot 

6f Vfti^DSiiij^. HS 

made ttaem ;) so it may hf degrees and fiiint apj. 
proaclies be entertained by> and have operation^ 
npott, even those depraved affections and tempers^ 
vHiich seem most averse from, and incapable of tht 
effects and offices of it. 

FHendship is compounded of all those soft lagve- 
^keatB vMdk Oft issiBiiate thcmsdves and Mtc 
mmeaaSMf into the nature and temper of men i>f 
the most different constitutions, as well as of those 
strong and active spirits v^hich can malce their way 
into perverse and obstinate dispositions; and l>e- 
eaase discretion is always predominant in. it, it 
worlts and prevails least apon fools. Wicked meii 
are often reformed by it, weak men seldom. It 
doth not fly in the face of the proud man, nor en* 
deavonr to jostle him out of his way with nnseat- 
sonable reprehensions; but watches fit occasions 
to present his own vices and infirmities in the per- 
sons of other men, and makes them appear ridicn- 
loos, that be may fall out with them in himself. It 
provokes not the angry man by peremptory con- 
tradictions ; he understands the nature of the pas- 
sioti, as well as of the person, too well, to endea- 
vour to suppress or divert it with discourses when 
it is in fury, but even complies and provokes it that 
he may extinguish it: " Simnlabit iram^ nt tan- 
qnam adjutor et doloris comes, plus anctoritatis in 
eonsiliis habeat ;** a friend will px^etend td ha^ a 
greater sense of- the indignity, thar he may be of 
coonsel iu the revenge, and so will defer it till it 
be too late to execute it, and tiU the passion is 
burned out wi^ its own fire. Friendship will not 
assault the lustful person with the commendation 
of chastity; and will rather discourse of the ^- 

F 2 


AIMsey and contempt that wiU acoompauy hini, than 
^ the damnation that viU attend him ; it applies 
pantiOB and lenitives to vice that is in rage and 
flagrant, the fever pf which ninst be ip re^iission 
before the sovereign remedies of conscience are to 
tee administered. There is a weakness that contri- 
butes to health ; and counsel must be as waril/ in- 
creased as' diet, whilst there are dregs enough left 
4)f the disease \o spoil the operation apd digestion. 
Friendship hath the skill fund observation of the 
bffst physician, the diligeuee and vigilance of the 
lie^t nvirse, and the tenderness and patience of the 
l^t mother, l^astly, it will not endeavour to .>^- 
form those w)io are covetous, unjust, or ambitious, 
by persuading them that poverty is to be preferred 
before plenty ; that It is better to be oppressed than 
to oppress } and that contempt is more to be af- 
fected than honour. Friendship is neither obliged, 
T^V i^liges itself, to such problepis $ but leaves it 
lO those who satisfy themselves in speaking what 
tjifiy ,think true, without carina whether it does 
gfioda or whether any body believes theni or no. 
Friendship may lose its labour, but it ;a very solir 
l»itous that it may not ; and therefore applies such 
cpnns^l^ as it may reasonably presume ynlH not be 
caftt u^, though it may not carry away all thfs b«. 
mour it is applied to. It ynH tell the covetoqs m^u, 
that he may grf>w very rich, and yet spend part of 
Ills wealth aa he gathers it, generously npo|» him- 
Sf It, ^nd charitably upon others ; it will put l)im 
in piu4 of Solomon's observation, that "There is 
t^iat scattereth, and yet inpreaseth ; and thece is 
l^at ipdth^^ldeth more than is |ueet, but it tendeth 
to BP^rty^^' i^rpv. xi, 2i, ^n^ how ^ the %ppre- 

Of FiiisKomnn M7 

ii«iii)idn of tb&t \v1iich he most eiidealrosrs t^ snM 
maf work upon him, depends mnch v^ioir tfae fbree 
add power of friendship ; and it hath wrov^ H 
gfeat cure, if it hath prevailed ^th him to mate 
his money his servant, and to do the business of « 
servant^ instead ot being a slave to his money/ It 
is not to l>e expected, that all the precepts and i^ 
the example of the strongest friendship shall have 
force enottgh to drive away all the malignity which 
possesses these several distempered persons; it win 
be very much, and a sufficient evifdenoe of the ^ 
^e indnence of friendship, if it prevails iHth the 
prond man tobe less pi'oud, and to endure to be in 
that company that doth not flatter him ; if it nudi da 
the angry man so much ashamed, as to blush fttr 
his impertinent rage, and though he cannol sup- 
press it, yet to excuse it ; if he brings the lustftil 
person to abhor unclean discourses, to livie catHe H 
not cdUte, and to endeavour to conceal bis tAn, 
though it tiaunet suppress it ; and if it can pelmiade 
the covetous man to be less sordid towards himself^ 
though not \eM avaricious towards others^ it hath 
done great offices, and sown seed that may grow 
up to the destruction of many of the weeds wlfioh 
are teft.. And it hath been often seen^ that many 
of these vices have been wonderfully blastedi and 
even Withet-ed away, by the discreet ca^tigation 
of a friend ; and rarely known that they have eon-^ 
ttaiied long in their full rage and vigour^ when they 
have been set upon or Undermined by skilful A'iend-' 

But I cannot here sivoid being told, that here 
ts ani excellent cordial provided for people in the' 
plague^ to whom nobody hath the charity to admW 

t08 laRD culrbndon's bssays. 

Biiter it; that flitace friendfihip can only be betwear 
good men, the Beveral iU qualities which possess 
thbfie persons have made them incapable of it^ and 
to cannot receive those offices from it; if the proud 
and the angrj, the histfuly revengeihl, and awbi- 
tiona person, be not capable of friendship, they ean 
never receive benefit-by it. It is very true, there 
cannot be a perfect entire friendship with men of 
those depraved affections, who cannot perform the 
tections of it ; there cannot be that confidence, 
communication, and mutual concernment between 
aadi persons, and those that are endowed with thai 
lirtue and justice which is the foundation of friend- 
-flhip: but men may receive the benefit and officea 
M friendship who are neither "worthy nor capttble 
of entering into the society and obligation of it, or 
to return those offices they receiY-e. It bath so 
much justice in it, that it is solicitous to relieve 
atif body that is oppressed, though it hath pro* 
eeeded f^om his own default ; and it hath so much 
charity in it, that it is ready to give to whoever 
wants, though it could choose a better object. It 
is possible that a fast friendship -with a worthy 
fittfaer may in such a degree descend to an unwor- 
thy son, th^t it may extend itself in all the offices 
towards him which friendship uses to produce; 
though he can make no, proportionable return, nor, 
it may be^ cares not for thsff exercise of it. It 
is not impossible but that we may have contracted 
friendship with men who then concealed thdr se- 
cret vices, which would, if discovered, have ob^ 
stmcted the'contract ; or they may afterwards fall 
into those vices, which caonot but dissolve it, inter* 
Tupt that communication aad confidence which h 


the sod] of it : yet in ndther of tUwe cases,, we 
mast not retire to such a distance, as not to have 
the former obligation in oar view; we mast so fiir 
separate as to ai^pear at the farthest distance fixm 
their eorraptions, bat we mast retain sdll a tender 
compassic^ for their persons, and still administer- 
|o them all the comfort and all the counsel that 
may restore them again to an entire ca|Mcity of oar 
friendship ; and if that cannot be, to prosecute them 
sttU with some effects of it, inflict upon ourselFes, 
for oar .own OTcrsight and want of prudencQ, joore 
patience and more application than we are bound 
to use towards strangers'; in a word, friendship is 
so ctiffusive, tharit will insinuate its effects to the 
benefit of any who are in any degree capable of re-^ 
eeiving benefit from it. 


MontpeUler, 1G70. 

Counsel and conversation is a second education^ 
that improves all the virtue and Corrects all the 
vice of the former, and of nature itself; and who* 
soever hath the bleising to attain this benefit, and 
understands the advantage of it, will be superior 
to all the difficulties of this life, and cannot miss 
his way to the next. Which'' is the more easy to 
be belkved, by the contrary prospect, by the evi-^ 
dence of the incite mischief which the corrupt 
Mid evil conversation the company of wiclced men 
produces in the world, to the malting impressions 
upon those who are not naturally ill inclined, but 
by degrees wrought upon, first to laugh at chastity, 
rellgidD, and virtue, and aU-virtnous^ men, and thei^ 

to hate and contemn them j so that it is a miraclb 
of some magnitude for any one to have much Con- 
versation with [Such people, to be often in that com-' 
pany, and afterwards heartily to forsake them; >and 
he ought to look upon himself ta a brand puOed 
and snatched out of the fire by the omnipotent arm* 
(tf God himself. I know not how it comes to pass^ 
but notorious it is, that men of depraved principles 
and practice are much more active and solicitous 
to make proselytes, and to corrupt others, thatt 
pious and wise men are to reduce and convert ; air 
if the devil's talent were more operative and pro- 
duAtive, than that (which Ood entrusts in the hands 
of hiiK children, which seems to be wrapped up In a 
napkin without being employed i ** Prowardness 
is in his heart, he deviseth mischief contlaaaliy, he 
soweth discord," says Solomon of his wicked man, 
(Prov. H, 14.) " Pravo coi^e architeCtatnr malum," 
as one translation renders it ; he doth not do mis- 
chief by chance, or negligently, but deliberates how 
he may do it with more success $ he builds it oom- 
modiously and Tspeciously to the eye, that it may 
invite men to inhabit it ) there is bo industry myr 
art wanting to make it prosper, and t6 yield a good 
harviest: whereas good men are content to enjoy 
the peace and tranquillity of their own consciences $ 
are very strict in all tliey say or do ; and are se\'ere 
examiners of their own actions^ that they may bo 
correspobdent to their professions^ and take them- 
^ves to be without any obligation to be inquisitive 
into the actions of other men. Which, though it 
be a good temper to restrain that unlawful curiosity 
abd censoriousness, which would dispose us to be 
v«mi5» towards ourselves, and severe cettsurers of 

OF ^OjaSSWL Aim ^ONV^)U4TI0^. \U 

tlie lotions of other men, in far from'^the comtt^* 
oicative duty which we owe to oar brethren in ao 
open imd friendly conversation. *' Whei^; thou arit 
conrertedy strengthen thy brethren," was aninjnno- 
tioB of our Savionr himself to St. Peter (Luke zxli. 
28.) God bestows conversion and any other per 
fectioBS upon us^ that we may convert and mend 
other men ; charity is difinsive, and cares not what 
it spends, so it enriches others. There are two 
very erroneous opinions, which hinder and obstruct 
those office^ which should flow from the perfeeti^ni^ 
of all men towards others *. the first, that it is the 
office of the ministerti and preaehers to t^ach ali 
nexi their duty to God, and to instruct them Ja 
|he ways of a virtuovis and innocent conversation ; 
the second, that men are generally little the better 
for advlpe, and care not to receive it, except from 
person^ who have some authority over them. For 
tb« first, the preachers need all the help other men 
can give them towards the reforming of men's man- 
ners, without which they will be able tQ contribute 
tmt very little to their faith ; and the chief reason 
that their fiuth is not better, is, because their msm^ 
oera are so bad, which the preachers can very 
hardly be informed of, nor easily take notice of 
when they are informed; the second proceeds from 
too ill an opinion of mankind, which is much more 
tractable than it is thought to be, and hath an in- 
ward reverence for that virtue it doth not practice ; 
and there is too much reason to believe, tha^ vice 
flourishes more by the negligence of those who are 
enemies to it, than the cherishing it receives by 
those who practise it ; and if the others laboured sof 
much «8 they ought to ^o to prevent the growth 

.112 LORD CLAReND<»»V S88AV8. 

of it, to nip it in the bad before it be grown iiftpa- 
dent, and placlciug it op by- the roots when it Is 
grown so, by severe and sharp reprehension, the 
vigour would quickly decay; and nothing is 
so frequent as cures of this kind by honest eonvena- 
tion, which insinuates itself into the minds of men 
insensibly, and by degrees gets authority, and even 
a jurisdiction, over the hearts of the worst men: 
the hearing* the^ ordinary discourses <tf tobSF antf 
discreet men, the very belnif wiwre Acy tup^ mi 
looking upoa Unasy wetiai great eiftets; *' Est ati- 
fp&df 4«od ex mogno viro, vel taoente, profidas ;"• 
ttm verf aspect of a venerable person, though fa^ 
says nothing, leaves an impression upon the mind 
of any man who is not utterly abandoned to vide; 
and men Of loose principles find another kind of 
spirit of mirth, and it may be another kind of sharp-^ 
ness of wit, in innocent and virtuons conversation,' 
that may have some condescension to make itself 
delighted in, and thereupon care less for the com- 
pany they have kept, and more for that they aie 
fallen into. And it is a wonderful degree of reco- 
very $ when men have these recollections, they tvill 
quickly attain to the rest ; he that hath redeemed 
himself ont of ill company, qr from taking delight 
in it, is far advanced towards a perfect reformation! 
, It was a very important circumspection that £pi- 
enrus prescribed to his disciple, to be more careful 
^ cum quibus edas aut bibis, quam quid edas au€ 
Ubis;" no diet can be so mischievous as-the com- 
pany in which it is taken. And if the first corrup- 
tion be not sucked in from the domestic manners, 8 
little providence might secure men in their first 
entrance into the world $ at least, if .parents took 



as much care to provide for their children's conver* 
satloQ^ as they do for their clothes, and to procnra 
a good friend for thend as a good tailor. 

It is not looked upon as the business <rf convert 
sation to mend each other, the fairness of it ratbev 
consists in not offending; the propagating part is 
not eoongh understood ; if it were, men "would take 
more joy, and feel a greater inward conteht, in 
making men good and pious and wise, than in any: 
other kind of generation : which are hut the vulgar 
acts of nature $ but the mending and exalting the 
soul is so near a new act of creation, that it illus* 
trates it ; and this illustration God expects from 
those whom he hath qualified for it» by giving then 
parts above other men, virtuous and good disposi-* 
tions^ and if he. adds eminency of place too, which 
draws the eyes of men more upon them, and in» 
clines them to submit to their advice and directions* 
And it is no discharge of their duty to be innoceni 
and entire themselves, if they do-not make others 
so by their conversation as well as their examples 
they are very good magistrates (and a common- 
wealth prospers much the better for having such) 
who are very strict and severe against offeoderSy 
and retain men within their duties, by punishing 
those who transgress; but they are much better 
magistrates, who, by their communication and in- 
structiony and any other condescension, can lessen 
the number of delinquents ; which, without doubt, 
is in every good man's power to do, according to 
th^r several d^rees,- if they made it their business 
(and better business they cannot have,) to inform ' 
thar friends and their ^neighbours before they 
cQimnit fau^tSjand redsum them after they havet 

114 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. ' 

committed them by animadyersioDS and reprehen- 
sions. The malignity of mkn*» nature is not so 
violent and impetuous, as to 'hurry them at first, 
and at once, into any sopreme and incorrigible love 
Of wickedness : poor people begin first to be idle, 
which brings want upon them, before they arrive 
at the impndeoce of .stealing ; and if they were kt 
Arst brought to be in love with industry, which is 
as easily learned, and it may be in itself -as easy as 
idleness, the other mischief would be never thought 
of. The first ingredients into the most enormous 
crimes, are ignorance, inoogitance, or some sadden 
violent passion ; which a little care in a^charitable 
neighbour might easily inform and reform, before 
It grovra up into reliellion, or contempt of religion. 
Every man ought to be a physician to him for 
whose malady he hath a certain cure ; and there 
is scarce a more infollible cure than counsel and 
conversation, which hath often recovered the most 
profligate persons^ and hath so seldom failed, that 
an enormous man of dissplute and debauched man- 
ners hath been rarely known, who hath lived In 
frequent conversation with men of wisdom and un- 
hiameable lives. But it will be said, that such peo- 
ple win never like or endure that conversation. It 
may be, like ill physicians, we may too soon de- 
spair of the recovery of some patients^ and there- 
fore leave them to desperate experiments : we are 
too apt to look so superciliously upon the natural 
levities and excesses of youth, as if they were not 
worth t^e pains of conversion ; or that it would be 
best wrought by necessities, contempt, or prisons : 
either of which are very ill schools to reduce them 
to vkrtue. Such men. will never decline the con- 


venation of theif superiors, if they may be admitted 
to it, though it may be they intend to langh at it ; 
bnt by this, in an instant, they depart from the 
pleasure of obscene and profane discourses, and 
insensibly find an alteration in their nature, their 
humour, and their manhers ; there being a soyereign 
and a subtle spirit in the conversation of good and 
wise men, that insinuates itself into corrupt men, 
that though they Icnow not how it comes about, 
they sensibly feel an amenchnent : " Non deprehen- 
dent quemadmodnm aut quando, profnisse depre- 
heodent;" they cannot tell how or when, but they 
aresure they are ivstored. It is great pity that so 
infiEdltble a medicine should be locked up by pceju* 
dice or morosity. 


MontpcUier, 1670. • 

Promises was the ready money that was first 
coined, and made current by the law of nature, to 
support that society and commerce that was ne* 
tessary for the comfort and security of mankiad ; 
and they who have adulterated this pure and legi- 
timate metal with an allay of distinctions and sub- 
tle evasions, have introduced a counterfeit and per- 
nicious coin, that destroys all the simplicity and 
integrity of human conversation. For what obliga- 
tions con ever be the earnest of faith and truth, if 
promises may be violated ? The snperinducllon of 
others for the corroboration and maintenance of 
government had been much less necessary, if pro- 
mises had still preserved their primitive vigour and 
leputation J nor can' any thing be said for the non- 


performaoce of a promise, which may not as^ resM 
sonably be applied to the non-observation ot an 
oath ; and in truth » men. have not been observed 
to be much restrained by their oaths, who have 
-not been punctual in their promises, the same sia-> 
cerity of nature being requisite to both. The phi-* 
losopher went farther than his profession obliged 
him, or in truth than it admitted, whea he would 
not have the performance exacted, unless " omnia 
essent eadem, qu» fuerint cum promitteres ;" and 
the distinction was necessary, when he thought it 
fit to avoid a promise he had made to a man that 
appears to be an ill man, who seemed a very good 
and wortliy person when he made this promise : 
and a greater change could not be : yet he seemed 
not over pleased with his own distinction, and 
would rather comply with his promise, if it could 
be done without much inconvenience. But too 
many Christian casuists have gone much farther in 
finding out many inventions and devices to evade 
and elude the faith of promise, if there hath bepa 
force or fraud, or^any other circumvention^ in the 
contriving the promise and engagement; which 
must dissolve all the contracts and bargains which 
aie commonly made among men, who still contend 
to be too hard for one another, that they may ad* 
vance or lessen their commodity. And no doubt 
the forming and countenancing those dispensations 
hath introduced much improbity and tergivgrsation 
into the nature and minds of men, which they were 
not acquainted with whilst they had a due eonsi<( 
deration of the sacredness of their word and pre- 
mise. It is from the impiety of this doctrine, that 
we run with that precipitation into promises and 

or Pi^oMiSBS. 117 

Ntlig, and think it jawfvl to promise that which we 
know to be uoiawfnl to perfonn. What- in this but 
to proclaim peijurjr to be lawful, at the .committing 
whereof every Christian heart ought to tremble ; 
or rather to declare that there is no snch sin, no 
such thing as perjury? lliere is no question, no' 
man ought to perform an unlawful, much less a 
wicked oath or promise; but the wickedness of 
executing it doth not absoWe any man from the 
guilt and widtedness of swearing that he would 
do it ; .he is peijured in not performing that which 
be would be more peijured in performing; and 
men who unwarily involve themselves in those lsd>y- 
rintfas, cannot find the way out of them with inno- 
cenee^ and seldom choose to do it with that which 
IS next to it, hearty repentance; but devise new 
expedients, which usually increase their crime and 
their perplexity. Where nothing of the law of God 
or some, manifest deduction from theuce doth oon- 
tronl our promises, it is great pity that the mere 
hainan law and policy of government should ab« 
solve men from the. performance ; and a good con- 
science will compel him to do that whom the law 
will not compel, but suffer to evade for his own. 
bene&«^ We have not that probity which nature 
stated us in, if we do not <' c^stigare proddittendi 
temeritatem," redeem the rashness and incogitance 
of our promise, by submitting to the inceovenienct 
and damage of performance. 
. It i« one of the greatest arguments which makes 
Maehiavel seem to prefer the government of a 
commonwealth before that of monarchy (for be 
doth but seem to do it^ how great a repubTicaii 
ioevv^ ^ la thought to be,) because be says king* 

m LORD CLAftEHDOll'0 feSSAYfl. 

and pnnees are less direct in the observation o^ 
their promises and* contracts than republics are;- 
and that -a little benefit and advantage dispoaesr 
them to Isolate them, when no profit that can ac-- 
erne prevails npon the other to recede from the 
obligation : which would be indeed an argument of 
weight and importance, if it were true. Nor does 
the instance he gives us in any degree prove his 
assertion ; for it was not the justice of the senate 
of Athens that refused the proposition made by 
Tlien^stodes, for the destruction of the whoie fleet 
of the rest of Greece, to whom it was never made, 
but the particular exactness of Aristides, to whom 
it was discovered by order of the sehate, that he 
might consider it ; and he reported, that the pro- 
position was indeed very profitable, but most rlis- 
lionest, upon which the senate rejected it, withont 
knowing more of it ; which, if they had done, it 
is probable, by their, other practices, that they 
might not so readily have declined it. Nor is the 
instance he gives of Philip of Macedon other than 
a general averment, withont stating the case : as 
his adored republic of Rome never outlived that 
infiunous judgment, that, when- a differehce be- 
tween two of their neighbours- was by a joint con- 
sent referred to their arbitrement, to whom a piece 
of land in diflerence and dispute between them 
should. belong, determined that it should belong to 
ndther of tliem, but that they the republic of Rome 
should enjoy it themselves, because it lay very con- 
T^Qlent for them ; so that form of government hath 
never since ndsed any monuments of their truth 
and justice, in the observation of the promises and 
contracts which they- have made.. Bat though his 

' 07 PaOMISES. U^ 

tomparison and preference had no good foundation, 
be had too much reason to observe, in the time in 
which he livedo . how little account princes^ made 
of. their word and promises, by the several and 
Contradictory investitures which in a short time 
had been given of the kingdom of Naples, which 
Qverflowed all Italy with a deluge of blood, by the 
inconstancy and tergiversation of Fei'dinand of Ar- 
mgon, who swallowed up all the ather investitures ; 
and afterwards, by the insatiable ambition and ani« 
mofiity between Charles the Fifth and Francis the 
First, when treaties and leagues were entered into, 
that they might take breath when they were weary, 
and with no other purpose than to watch to op« 
(Mrtunity to break it to their advantage. This 
indeed was too great a prostitution of the dignity 
and faith of kings to the censure and reproach of 
their subjects, who found themselves every day 
under sentences and judgments for the breach of 
their words and contracts, which they had not en- 
tered into with half that solemnity, and that they 
must be bouud to waste their estates, and I086 or 
venture their lives in the maintenance and defenibe 
of their prince's wilful and affected^ violation of 
their word, promise, and oath, to satisfy their pride 
oar their humour : and it may be, that easy indina- 
tion to f^thlessness, in which God Almighty was 
made a party and a property in all their contracts^ 
hath been a principal motive and cause of his heavy 
> judgments upon those royal families ; of which one, 
after a numerous issue, which might naturally have 
lasted to the end of the world, hath been long sincd 
a9 fully extinguished, that the name of Valois Js. 
Jlofttlnany lawful line; and the other is so near 

120 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

expired, that it hath not strength left to draw macli 
fesu* from their neighbours or reverence itom their 
subjects, as if they loolsed upon it as^ worn out and 
forsalcing the world. How observable soever the 
fate of those very great princes hatli.been, yet their 
BQOcessors have taken little notice of it ; and though 
their virtues (for they had both, transcendent prince- 
ly qualities) have languished in imitation, their 
vices have been propagated with great vigour : and 
Christianity hath not a fitter scene for lamentation, 
than the consideration how little account kings and 
princes still, make of the faith they giv« to each 
other, and upon how little or no provocation they 
break it, upon the least temptation of their incon* 
veniency, or only because they are able to do it 
without controul or opposition : so that it is looked 
upon/ as no crime in a king, which is infamy in a 
gentleman ; as if because there is no tribunal be- 
fore whiph they can be accused, they cannot there- 
fore be guilty of peijury. But they should wisely 
remember and foresee, that there is a high cowrt~ 
of justice before which they must inevitably appear, 
where the peijury of princes will be so much more 
severely punished than that of private men, by how 
much it is always attended with a train of blood, 
and rapine, and other ill consequences, which the 
other is not guilty of. 


Non^peUter, 1670. 

Liberty is the charm, which mutinous and sedi- 
tious persons use, to pervert and corrupt the affec- 
tions of weak and wilful people, and to lead them 


into rebellioo agsdnst their princes and lawfal sn- 
perion : *' £b ilia, qiiam ampe optistU, libertaSy'* 
said ^C^tiUiiey when' he would draw the poor peo- 
ple into a conspiraey agaikist the commoowealth. 
And in that transpoartationj men are commonly so 
weak and wilfal, that'theyinsenaiUy submit to con- 
titlone of more restndot and compulsion, and in 
troth to more and heavier penalties for the rindi* 
eation of their liberty, than they were ever liable 
to in the highest violation of their liberty of which 
they complain, by how ranch the articles of war 
are more severe" and hard to be observed, than the 
strictest injunctions under any peaceable govern- 
ment. However; no age hath been without dismal 
and bloody examples of this fury, when the very 
aoond. of liberty (which inay well be called a charm) 
hath hurried those who would sacrifice to it, to do 
and to suffer all the acts of tyranny imaginable^ 
and to make themselves slaves that they may be 
free. ThereTis no one thing that the mind of man 
amy lawfully desire and take delight in, that is less 
understood and more iiatally mistaken than the 
word liberty ; which though no man is so mad as 
to say it consists in being absolved from all obliga- 
tions, of law, which would give every man liberty 
to destroy him; yet they do in truth think it to be 
nothing else than not to be subject to those laws 
which restrain them from doing somewhat they 
kavjB a mind to do; so that whoever is carried 
away upon that seditious invitation, hath set his 
heart upon some liberty that he affects, a liberty for 
revenge, a liberty for rapine, or the like : which, if 
owned and avowed, would seduce very few; but 
lieing concealed, every man gratifies himself with 



such an image of liberty as he worships, and so 
ooncar together to overthrow that gofemment that 
is incopvenient to them all, though disliked by very 
few in one and the same respect; and therefarfi; 
th^ strength of rebellion consists in the private 
gloss which every man makes to himself upon the 
dedared argument of it, not upon the reasons pub« 
Ushed and avowed, how 'specious and popular so- 
ever; and thence it comes to pass, that most re- 
bellions expire in a general detestation of the first 
promoters of them, by those who kept them com*: 
pany in the prosecution, and discover their ends to. 
be very different from their profession. 

True and precious liberty, that is only to be 
valued, is nothing else but that we may not be com- 
pelled to do any thing that the law hath left in our 
choice whether we will do or no; nor hindered 
' from doing any thing we have a mind to do, and 
which the law hath given, us liberty to do, if we 
have a mind to it : and compulsion and force in 
either of these cases, is an act of violence and in- 
justice against our ri{^t, and ought to be repelled by 
the sovereign power, and may be resisted so 
ourselves as the law permits. The law is the 
staodard and the guardian .of, our liberty; it cir- 
cumscribes and defends it; but to imagine liberty 
without a law, is to imagine every man with his 
sword in his hand, to destroy him who is weaker 
than himself;, and that woilld be no pleasant pro- 
aspect to those who cry out most for liberty. Those 
men, of how great name and authority soever, who 
first introduced that opinion, that nature produced 
us in a state of war, and that order and government 
was the effect of eKperieoce and contract, by wUch 


man fttttreiidered the i^ght.he had hy nature, to 
avoid that violence which every man might exercise 
upon 'another, have been the authors of much mis- 
<^]ef in the world,- by infusing Into the heaits of 
mankind a wroog opinion of the institution of go- 
vernment, and that they may lawfully vindicate 
themselves from the 111 bargtuns that their an- 
cestors made for that liberty which nature gave 
them, and they oufjtit only to have rdeased their 
own interest and what concerned themselves, but 
that It hr most unreasonable and unjust that their 
posteiity should be bound by their ill-made and un- 
Akilfnl contracts: and- from this, resentment and 
mnrmnr, war and rebeUi<m have arisen, which 
comnaonly leave men under much worse condition 
than their forefothers had subjected them to. Nor 
is it strange that philosophers, who coqld imagine 
no other way for the worid to be made, but by a 
lucky convention and conjunction of atoms, nor 
could, satisfy their own curiosity in any. rational 
conjecture of the structure of man, or from what 
omnipotency he could be formed or created ; I say, 
it is no wonder, that men so much in the dark as- 
to matter of fact, should conceive by the light of 
their reason, that government did arise in that 
method, and by those argumentations, which they 
could best comprehend capable to produce suqh a 
conformity. But that men, who are acquainted 
with the serlptures, and profess to believe them ; 
who thereby know the whole history of the creation, 
and have thermn the most lively representations of 
all the excesses and defects of nature ; who see the 
order amd discipline and subjection prescribed to 
mankind from his creation, by Him who created 


hfan ; and that that discipline and solijecdcm "mn 
AHiij^ied with till the world was grown very nn- 
merons ; that we, after so clear inforanation of what 
wtis KvJlj and in truth done and commaoded^ 
should resort to the £ancy and supposition of hea- 
tlien philosophers for the intention of govermnent, 
is very unreasonable, and hath exposed the peace 
and quiet of kingdoms, the preservation wfaere(rfi» 
the obligation of conscience and religion^ to the 
wild imaginations of men, upon the ungrounded 
eooceptions of the primitive foundation of snl^ec- 
tkm and obedience, and to their licence to enervate 
both, by their bold definitions and distinctions. 

Becausie very much of the benefit of Christianity 
Consisted in the liberty it gave manltind.from that 
thraldom which it suffered under the law, and in 
the manumission and deliverance from those ob. 
servations and ceremonies, the aposUes took not 
mote care in the institution of any part of it, than 
that men might not be intoxicated 'with the plea- 
sant taste of that liberty, or imagine that it ex- 
tended to a lawlessness in their actions, well fore- 
seeing, and being jealous lest their opinion of li- 
berty might degenerate into licentiousness ; and 
therefore they circumscribed it with all poauble 
caution, that tliey might have the whole benefit to 
tbemselves in abstaining from what was grievous 
and them, not the presumption to 
disturb other men : *' But talre heed lest by any 
means this liberty of yours become a stumbfing* 
block to them that are w^ak,** suth St. Paul, 
(1 Cor. nil. 9.) Do not dissemble and give men 
cause to believe, by accompanying them in what 
they do, that thon dost intend as they do, and hast 


tlie aaip'e thoughts with them. ** Use not libertjr 
for an occasion to the flesh," is an injunction of 
the same apostle (Gal.T. 13.) How good a title 
soerer yon have to liberty, he not exalted by it to 
anger, and provoke a man, who (though by want 
of nnderstanding) doth not think himself as free at 
thon art : noi proportion of liberty will permit thee 
to be uncharitable, much less to apply it to satisfy 
thy ambition, or any other unlawfol affection. Of 
all kiiid^ of affectation of liberty, to which the soul 
of man lets itself loose, there is none ought to be 
more carefully watched, and more strictly ex- 
amined, than that which is so passionately pre- 
tended to, and so ftiriously embraced, liberty of 
conscience : other liberties which nature incUnes 
and disposes us unto, how unwarrantable soever, 
may with more excuse, if not with more innocence, 
be indulged to, than that liberty which seems to 
take its rise fh>m conscience : which, in truth, if 
it be Intimate, is the dictate of Ood himself ; and 
therefore men ought to tremble in imputing any 
thing to result from Him, that leads them to the 
direct breach of any of his commandments, indeed 
that doth not restrain them from it. It is a very 
severe limitation by St. James, '* So speak ye> and 
so do, as they that shall be judged by the law of 
liberty," (James ii. 12.) That liberty that will not 
be judged by the law, is an unlawful lilierty ; and 
men will find, if they are diligent in seeking, that 
the law of Christ, which is the judge of Christian 
Uberty, doth oblige all his followers to submit to 
the laws of their lawful sovereigns which are not 
directly, and to their knowledge, contradictory to 
his own. Conscience is so pure a fountun, that no' 

126 LORD clarenbon's essays. 

polluted water can be drawn from thence; and 
therefore St.. Peter pronounces a judgment upon 
those, who, upon their being free, use their liberty . 
for a cloak of maliciousness, cover their wicked 
designs under the liberty of conscience, and bo 
make God accessary to the iniquity he abhoiB. 


MontpeUier, 1G70. 

Industry \» the cordial that natura hath provided 
to cure all its own infirmities and diseases, and to 
supply all its defects ; the weapon to preserve and 
defend us against all the strokes and assaults of 
fortune ; it is that only that conducts us through 
any noble enterprise to a noble end : what we ob- 
tain without it is by chance ; what we obtain with 
it is by virtue. It is very great pity that so power- 
ful an instrument should be put into the hands of 
wicked men, who thereby gain such infinite advao- 
tages ; yet it cannot be denied but that it is a vir- 
tue which ill men make use of to very ill purposes. 
It was the first foundation of Jeri^oam's great- 
ness : '* And Solomon seeing the young man that 
he was industrious, he made him ruler over all the 
charge of the house of Joseph," (1 Kings xi. 28.) 
by which he got credit and authority tg deprive his 
'soil of the greatest part of his dominions. There 
is no art or science that is too difficult for industry 
to attain to ; it is the gift of tongues, and makes a 
man understood and valued in all countries, and by 
all nations ; it is the philosopher's stone, that turns 
all metals, and even stones, into gold, and suffers 


want to break into its dwellings; it is the north- 
ivest passage, that brings the mecchant's ships as 
soon to him as he ican desire : in a word, it con- 
quers all enemies, and. makes fortune itself pay 
contribution. . If this omnipotent engine were ap- 
plied to all virtuous and worthy, purposes, it would 
root out all vice from the world ; for the industry 
of honest men is much more powerful than the in- 
dnstry of the wicked, which prevails not so much 
by its own activity, as by the remissness and supine 
laziness of their unwary enemies. The beauty and 
the brightness of it appear most powerfully to our 
observation, by the view of the contempt and de- 
formity of that which is most opposite to it, idle- 
neiis ; which enfeebles and enervates the strength 
of the soundest constitutions, shrinks and stupifies 
the faculties of the most vigorous mind, and gives 
all the destroying diseases to body and mind, with- 
out the contribution from any other vice. Idleness is 
the .sin and the punishment of beggars, and should 
be detested by all noble persons, as a disease pcs- 
tUehtial to their fortune and their honour. 

I know not how it comes to pass, but the world 
pays dear for the folly of it, that this transcendent 
qualification of industry is looked upon only as an 
assistant fit for vulgar spirits, to which nature hath 
not been bountiful in the distribution of her store ; 
as the refuge for dull and heavy men, who have 
neither their conceptions nor apprehensions within 
any distance, nor can arrive at any ordinary design 
without much labour and toil, and many unneces- 
sary revolvings, which men of sharp and pregnant 
parts stand need of, whose rich fancy presents 
to them in a moment the view of all contingencies. 

IM LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

and all that occnrt to formid and elabot^tte moR 
after all their sweat; that they view and surrey 
a&d judge and execute, whilst the otherl^ are tor- 
menting themselves with imagioatroiis of difficulty, 
till aU opportQDities are lost; that it is aa affront 
to the liberality of nature, and to the excelleal iiaa- 
iities she hath bestowed upon them, to take paaaa 
to find what they have about them, and to doubt 
that which is most evident to them, because men 
who have jnore dim lights cannot discern so £ar as 
they : and by this haughty childishness they qnlddy 
deprive themselves of the plentiful supplies wfaieii 
nature hath given them, for want of nourishment 
and recruits. If diligent and industrious men 19166 
themselves, with very ordinary assistance from na* 
ture, to a great and deserved height of repotatioD 
and honour, by their solid acquired ^sdom and 
confessed judgment, what nobie flights wovAd each 
men make with equal industry who are likewise 
liberally endowed with the advantages of nature ! 
And without that assistance, experience makes it 
manifest unto us, that those early buddings, how 
vigorous soever they appear, if they are neglected 
and uncultivated by serious labour, they wither 
and fade away without producing any thing that is 
notable. TuUy's rule to his orator is as true in aU 
conditioDS of life, *^ Quantum detraxit ex studio, 
tantum amisit ex glorid/ 



i Montpellier, 1670. 
" Health and a good estate of body are above aU 
gold, anda^rtrong body above infinite wealth," says 


of Sirach, (Ecc. xxx. 15.) and the greatest 
benefit of health is, that whilst it lasts, the mind 
enjoys its full vigour ; whereas sickness, hy the dis- 
temper of the body, discomposes the mind as mtfch, 
and deprives its faculties of ail their lustre. Sick- 
ness and pain, which is always attended with want 
of sleep, disturb, if not confound, the thoughts, 
and rob them of all their serenity; and infuse 
broken and melanchdy and irresolute imaginations^ 
which are as grievous and as painful as the sickness 
Itself. • It is one of (rod's kindest messengers, to 
put ns in mind of our folly and incogitance, and 
excess in- health; and how discomposed and di8« 
consolate soever it renders our thoughts^ it awakens 
those which have long slept, and presents many 
things to our clearest view, which we had laid aside 
never to be thought of more. Our memory is much 
more at our own disposal in our health, when neg* 
ligence, mirth, and jollity have introduced such 'an 
incogitancy, that -We seldom remember any thing 
that may trouble ns ; and if any thing of that kind 
intrude into our thoughts we have many sorts of 
remedies to drive it from thence: but sickness 
rouses up that faculty; and, above all, suffers us 
not to forget any thing of that which gives us most 
trouble in remembering. Every ambitious and every 
malicious thought of our own, of which nobody can 
accuse us, every proud and injurious word, of which 
nobody dares accuse us, and every insolent and un« 
lawful action, which nobody will take upon them 
to control, present themselves clearly to our view 
in their most naked dress, and will not suffer us to 
sleep ;when our bodily pain and sickness intermit 
enoogh to give ns that ease : they are now as im« 

a 2 

130 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

portnnate 9siA insolent towards us as they have beeii' 
heretofore towards others ; and take revenge^ on 
the behalf of those towards whom we have been 
injurioas, upon ourselves. And in this excellent 
perspective, through which we see all our faults 
and all our follies without varnish or disguise, it is 
probable we may disceni more than our physiciieins 
can inform us, the very natural cause 6f that sick- 
ness and distemper under which we labour^ from 
some excess long since committed and now pu- 
nished. And God forbid that these unwilling tasA 
nhwdcomie recollections should not makfe that im- 
pression and reformiation in us which they ought 
to do! which were to disappoint God's messen- 
ger. Sickness, of the effect for which he was sent '; 
and which indeed is the- only way to recover our 
health, or a much better and more lasting health 
ttito that which we have lost. But yet we may 
Mwfnlly and piouftly say, that all these recoUepftioi!^ 
and t-eflectioikS, which we cannot avoid in sickness, 
and T^hich in that season may as naturally produce 
despair as repentance, are much more seasonable, 
much more advantageous in health, when our me- 
mory can much more deliberately reproach us, and 
all our faculties can perform their offices towards 
such a repentance, as niay in some degree repair 
the til we have done, as well as acknowledge it, 
and confinh us in such a firm habit of virtues, as 
no temptation may hav6 strength enough to corrupt 
us. A man may as reasonably expect, by one week's 
good husbandry, to repair the breaches and wastes- 
which he hath made in his fortune by seven years 
licence and excess, as to repair and satisfy for the 
enormities and transgressions of his life in sickness, 


tbat is the foreraiiner of death, and alwajs mio^t 
intolerable to them who have put off all thoughts 
till then, aod which at that time crowd in upo^ 
faim ratheV to oppress than inform him. TTie. truth 
is, men ought to have no other business to do ii» 
sickness than to die; which, when the thought^) 
are least disturbed, sickness only makes them^will- 
ang to do. 


Moa^ieUier, 1670. 

Patience is a Christian virtue, a hsibit of the mind 
that doth not only bear and suffer contumelies, re- 
proach, and oppression, but extracts all the venom 
oat of them, and compounds a cordial out of the ,. 
ingredients, that preserves the health, and even 
restores the cheerfulness of the countenance, and 
works miracles in many respects ; and under this 
notioB we have in smother place taken a view of \% : 
we will consider it now, only as it is a moral virtue, 
a temper of mind that controls or resists all the 
brutish effects of choler, anger, and rage ; and in 
this regard it works miracles too ; it prevents the 
inconvemences and indecencies which anger would 
produce, and diverts the outrages which choler and 
rage would commit : if it be not sharp-sighted 
enough to prevent danger, it is composed and re- 
solute enough to resist and repel the assault ; and, 
by keeping all the faoulties awake, is very rarely 
surpriised, and quickly discerns any advantages 
which are offered, because its reason is never dis- 
turbed^ much less confounded. There is no ques- 


tion but where this excelleut blessed temper is tbe 
eiTect of deliberation, and tbe observation of the 
folly and madness of sudden passion, it mnst con- 
iltitnte tbe greatest perfection of wisdom ; but it 
hiath in itselfi^o mnch of yirtue and advantage, that 
when it proceeds from the heaviness of the con- 
stitution, and from some defect in the fiaculties, it 
is not wholly without use and benefit ; it may poii- 
sibly not do so much good as more sprightly and 
active tnen use -to perform^ but then it never does 
the harm that quick and hasty, men are commonly 
guilty of; and as fire is much easier and sooner 
kindled than it is extinguished, we frequently find 
dull and phlegmatic persons sooner attain to a 
warmth and maturity of judgment, and to a won- 
derful discerning of what ought or ought not to be 
done, than men of quiclser and more subtle parts 
of nature, who seldom bear cogitandi laborem: 
whereas the other, by continual thinking, repair 
the defects of nature, and with industry supply 
themselves with that which nature refused to give 
them. All men observe, in the litigation of the 
schools, that the calm and undisturbed disputants 
msuntain their point and pursue their end ihnch 
more e^caciously than their angry and yeheniieDt 
adversaries, whose passions lead them into absurd 
concessions and undiscemed contradictions : all the 
ambitious designs for honour and preferment, all 
the violent pursuits of pleasure and profit, are but 
disputations and contentions to maintain ~ their 
theses,- to compass that which men have a mind to 
obtain ; and though the boldest men do sometimes 
possess themselves of the prize, it is but sometimes, 
and' when it is not warily guarded : the dispas- 


sionate candidates are not so often disappointed, 
nor so easily discouraged ; they are intent and ad- 
vancing, when the others have given over ; and 
then they enjoy what they get mth much more 
satisfaction, because they pursued with less gree- 
diness. Angry and choleric men are as ungrateful 
and unsociable as thunder and lightning, being in . 
themselves all storm and tempests ; but quiet and 
easy natures are like f;ur weather, welcome to all, 
and acceptable to all men ; they gather together 
what the other disperses, and reconcile all whom 
the other incenses ; as they have the good will and 
the good wishes of all other men, so they have the 
fall {KMsession of themselves, have all their own 
thoQghts at peace, and enjoy quiet and ease in their ' 
own fortunes how strait soever; whereas the 
other neither love, nor are beloved, and make war 
the' more faintly upon others, because they have ho 
peace within themselves ; and though they are very 
ill company to every body else, they are worst of 
all to themselves, which is a punishment thatna- 
tnre hath provided for them who delight in being 
vexatious and uneasy to others. 


Sept 8, IGO9. . 

Repentance is the greatest business we have to do 
in this world, and the only harbinger we can send 
before us to provide for our accommodation in- the 
next ; it is the only token we can carry with us 
thither of our being Christians, which is the only 
title and' claim we can make to be admitted into 

134 LORD clai^sndon's «$says. 

hearen. U was the only doctrine the 4>rophet« 
preached to prepare the world for the reception of 
our Saviour ; and we may justiy believe that his 
coming waj} the longer deferred, by the little growth 
that doctrine had in .the hearts of men ; and it was 
the principal doctrine he chose to preach himself 
after he was come, to make his coming effectual, 
and to make way for Christianity, of which they 
were otherwise incapable. There is not, it may be, 
a consideration in the whole history of the life and 
death of our Saviour, upon the ground and end of 
his being born, and all the circumstances of his 
living and dying, which ought to affect us more 

, with sorrow and amazement, than th^t this precious 
antidote, which can only expel that poison which 
must otherwise destroy us, that this sovereign re- 
pentance is so little thought of, so little considered, 
sa little understood, what it is, and what it is not, 
that it is no wonder that it is so little practised* 
It is wonderful with some horror, that there is not 
one Christian in the world, how different soever in 
other opinions, who doth profess to have.any hope 
of salvation without repentance, and yet that there 
are so few who t%ke any psuns to be informed of 
it, or know how to practise it. It is almost the 
^only point of faith upon which there is no con- 
troversy ; as if there were a general conspiracy to 
make no words of it, lest it should suppress all 
other discords and contentions. It were to be 

. wished therefore that all particular persons, who 
have any sense of conscience, or so much as a desire 
to live innocently for the future, that they may die 
comfortably, would seriously apply themselves to 
weigh well what that repentance in truth is, whicl^ 


they tiiemselvea think to he necessary to their sat- 
TatiOD^ and without which they even know that 
they cannot be saved; that they may neither be im- 
posed npon by others, nor impose npon themselves, 
by imagining it to be a perfiinctory duty, to' be 
taken up and performed when they have a mind 
to it, azrd to l>e repeated as often as they have need 
of it. And it may be kingdoms and states cannot 
find a better expedient for their own peace and se- 
curity, and fbr the composing the minds and affec- . 
ttbns of their subjects, than -for some time to silence 
an disputes in religion, and to enjoin all preachers 
in l^eir pulpits and" their conversation, only to in- 
culcate the doctrine of repentance ; that as all 
people confess' the necessity aiid profess the practice 
of it, so they may be so well instructed and in- 
formed of the true nature and obligations of it, that 
they may know themselves whether they do prac- 
tise it, 'and whether they are so well prepared for 
their last journey as they believe or imagine them- 
selves to be. 

tlepentance then is a godly sprroi^ for having 
done or committed somewhat that God hath for- 
bidden them to do, or for having omitted to do 
somewhat that he hath commanded us to do, and 
which was in our power to have done. Where 
there is no sorrow, there Can be no repentande; 
and where tiie sorrow is not godly, there cau be too 
true repentance. Tlie Conscience must be troubled 
and afflicted for having, offended God, and princi- 
pa&y for that, before it can produce repetotance. 
♦ Too many are sorry, very sorry, for having lost their 
time in pursuing a sin without effect, vnthout cotft- 
passing their desire ; but this is far from repentance. 

136 . LORD clarendon's B9SAY8. 

aiid they are as ready for the like new-engs^ni^t 
qpon any new opportunity. Whereas a godly sor- 
row-exempts a man from such temptation, aiwl so 
fortifies him against it, that all the adraotagefl of 
the world could not again prevail with bim to com- 
mit the same sin of which he repents, because he 
80 grievously offended God in the comnritment. 
The son of Sirach could not think of any thing so 
contradictory and ridiculous, as of a man that fa&U 
eth for his sins, and goeth agidn and doth the same ; 
who will hear his prayer, or what doth his hum- 
bling profit him ? God only knows how far the 
most serious and unfeigned repentance will enable 
and strengthen us to resist future temptatiotf ; but 
we may all know that it is no repentance at aU^. 
that is not attended with a first resolution never to 
fall. into, the same sin again, whereof he makes a 
true repentance ; and we may piously believe, that 
God will support that hearty repentance, to that 
degree, that we shall never fall into the same again ; 
and if we Ho find ourselves prone to it hereafter, 
we have much more reason to conclude that our 
repentance was ftot sincere, than that repentance 
hath not strength enough to secure us against such 
assaults. Without doubt we ought not to flatter 
ourselves with an opinion or imagination that we 
do repent, if we dp not sensibly feel such a re- 
solution: that declaration in the epistle to the 
Hebrews, (vi. 4, 5, 6.) hath very much of horrqr is 
it i *' It is impossible for those who were once en- 
lightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and 
were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have 
tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the 
world to come, if they shall fall away, to renew 


them again to repentance ; since thcjr cnicify to 
themaelTes the Son of God afresh, and put him to 
an open shame." How far soever it may please 
Ood to exercise his mercy even to those who are 
so miserably fallen, of which no man can presume^ 
sare it oo^t to terrify all men from that impudent 
imiiiety, as to gratify their lust, or their intempe- 
rance, or their rapine, with a resolution to repent 
wlien they hare done, and so make that presump^ 
tion a stalking-horse to the worst wickedness and 
▼illanf . Such deliberation and contemplation upon 
God's naercy is more profaneness and blasphemy^ 
than rejecting him out of our thoughts, or con- 
cloding that he cares not what we do. And yet 
there is too much reason to fear, that in so fre- 
qnieDt confessions and as frequent absolutions, there 
would not still remiun the commission-of the same 
sins in the same person, if they did not play with 
repentance, and believe they might have it when- 
ever they call for it. St. Paul tells us, (Rom. ii. 4.) 
*' That the goodness of God leadeth us to repent* 
anoe;'*' and men may as reasonably believe that 
thef may be saved without repentance, as that he 
will lead those to repentanoe, who, upon the con- 
fidence of it, have given their hands to the devil, to 
be-led by him out of all the roads which lead to re- 
peirtance. There are a sort of cordials, which are 
parposely made to be administered only in ex- 
tremity, when nature is ready to expire, and not 
able to perform its functions ;-bnt as those cordials 
do not often^ work the wished effect, so they are- 
very often forgotten to be applied, or applied too 
late, when nature is spent and not able to receive 
them. If this sovereign cordial of repentance be 

.138 LORD clarendon's B8SAYS.. 

laid aside to tbe la^t extremity, till nature is so for 
decayed, that no vice hath strength enough to coo- 
lead, or be importunate for any further compliance, 
it^is no wonder if it be then forgotten, and 
not strong enough to caQ for it, or to look ^ for any 
benefit from it ; and though it can never come un- 
seasonably or unprofitabiy, or too late, yet it may 
be deferred so long, that it may not come at all; 
which they have great reason to apprehend, who 
find by experience that the longer they defer it^the 
less .mind and inclination they have to finish it ; as 
bankrupts have least mind to look over and ex- 
amine their own accounts. 

It is a common error, and the greater and more 
mischievous for. being so common, to believe that 
repentance best becomes and most concerns dying 
men.' Indeed, what is necessary every hour of our 
life is necessary in the hour of death too, and as 
long as he lives he vill have need of I'epentance, 
and therefore it is necesfiary in the hour of death 
too ; hut he who hath constantly exercised, himself 
in it in his health and vigour, will do it with less 
pain in his sickness and weakness; and he who 
hath practised it aU his life, vnll do it with.mbre 
ease and less perplexity in the hour of his death : 
as he who hath diligently cast up every page of a 
large account, will better be able to state the whole 
sum upon a little warning in the last leaf, than he 
can do which: must look over every one of them. 
Repentance is as necessary to linng as to dying well ; 
aad-being carefully and constantly, practised, makes 
captives as profitable, as 'our deaths comfortable; 
and the world receives more benefit by our living 
wiell than by bur dying 'Well. : The frequent reyol- 


^atg onr own errors, follies, and defects, the cor- 
recting and snbdmng our passions and onr appetites^ 
all which is repentance, makes us wiser and ho- 
nester, and so more prosperous in the eyes of men; 
and a serious recollection of what we hare done 
amiss towards other men and towards ourselves, is 
not out of the way to a repentance for having of- 
fended the Divine Providence: they Who do be- 
lieve (as the best naen surely do) that there is no 
day of their -life (from the time that they knew the 
difference between good and bad) in which they 
have not thought, or said, or done somewhat, for 
which they need forgiveness from God and man, 
cannot doubt but that they have argument for re- 
pentance every day ; and the oftener they make 
those recollections, the more cheerfully they live 
- and the more cheerfully they die : and the la^ng 
those troublesome matters aside and forgetting 
them, will not serve their turn, and gives very short 
ease ; no man can presume so much upon an ill 
memory, but that many things will occur to him 
which he had rather forget, and in seasons in which 
he is most troubled to remember them ; and there- 
fore it was no ill * answer that' he ^ve to one who 
offered to teach him the art of memory, that he ra- 
ther desired the art of forgetfulness ; *' memiuerat 
, enim quae noUet." The only way to keep the 
conscience in a posture of confidence, and that 
it may nOt be oppressed ^(and no tyranny is so in- 
supportable as -the oppression of conscience, I 
-mean the- oppression it suffers from its own guilt) 
-is freqaently to represent to its naked view all 
its deformities'; which insensibly produces sad- 
ness and remorse, and caution against future as- 
saults; and we have it only in our chwce', whether 


we wiil then call them before vs and take a |irp^ 
9peet of them, muster them in all their colour^, 
when we can upon the matter disarm them^ by ex- 
tracting all their venom and poison with an un- 
feigned repentance, or let them call and break in 
apon tts when we are weak and in pain, and not 
able to bear the surprise. The philosopher thought 
it an unanswerable reason, why he should take an 
exact scrutiny of his own faults and follies, and not 
endeavour to hide them from himself by forgetting 
them, because upon the view of them he could say 
unto himself (for he knew not whether to rejoice^ 
pine) " vide ne istud amplius facias^ nunc tibi 
ignosoo ;" though his own pardon will not serve his 
turn, if he be sincere in the discovery he |s like to 
find a pardon more easily from Qod, than it may 
be he can obtidn from himself. Since then there is 
so frequent occasion and so constant a benefit in 
the reiterating and repealing our repentance,. and 
so manifest danger in the delaying it, methinks aU 
men should think it -mere madness to put it off an 
honr ; and when they are not willing that any be- 
nefit they affect in this world should be deferred 
or kept back from them an hour, they should yet 
4lefer that, which must make their passage to^ and 
their station in, the other world miserable above or 
beyond the most fertile imagination : and as men 
who are to travel through an enemy's country can- 
not be too solicitous and scrupulous in examining 
every claase and expression in their pass, and that 
no word be left out which may endanger their se- 
curity in their journey, nor too punctual in obser- 
^nng the limits and restraints and conditions ia- 
dnded therein,* so they cannot intently and in» 
dnstriomdy enough consider this more important 


pSM of tbdr repentance, which mmt erniduct them 
through mott daiigerons and intricate ways, that it 
be sincere, and' not liable to any tergiversations, 
nor without any of those marks and tokens which 
niay manifest the veracitf ^f it to others, as weJl as 
raise a confidence in themselves of Its security: nor 
can they use too mn<!h diligence* to raise this con- 
fidence, which concerns them so much, and which, 
above nil the indulgence and encouragement they 
can receive from others, can only make their jour- 
ney comfortable to themselves. 

Acknowledgment is not a circumstance, but a 
necessary foundation of repentance : he that doth 
not believe he hath done amiss, cannot entertain a 
true sorrow, and hath less reason to repent ; and 
if he doth bdieve it, he must acknowledge it before 
he can truly repent. This Christian duty, this es- 
sential and inseparable part of repentance, must be 
seriously thought upon and studied : it is the scare- 
crow that frights men ftem repentance, sets up 
honour to contest with conscience, and makes- 
shame so impudent ais to contradict confession. 
He who stoops to the lowest and the basest atti 
and .actions to commit a wickedness^, would be 
exempted by honour from acknowled^ng it ; and 
he that cannot be restrained by modesty from the 
most impudent transgressions, would be absolved 
by shame from making any confession of it ; and' 
yet win not have it doiibted but that he is truly 
pet^nt. What is this hut mocking God Almigh^ty, 
and hoping to get into heaven by a counterfeit and 
fofged pass, which will not get admittance info ho- 
nourable company, whidi never remits an injury 
without a full acknowledgment and entreatjr of for- 
^kfeaeuk? It is a bare-&eed assertion^ owned and 

142 LORD clarendon's essays. 

urged commonly by thoee, who, being by ill sncoess 
brought to the brink of despair, carry themsebes 
onljr to the brink of repentance ; t4iat repefitance 
18 an act of the heart towards God alone, for some '* 
sin committed against his divine Majesty, and a 
b^ging of his pardon ; and therefore the acknow* 
ledgtng that sin to him alone, and renouncing it 
wiUi all the resointion imaginable nerer tO'fail into 
the like again, is sufficient, and need not i>e attended 
with any public acknowledgment ; which would only 
expose them to the sewn and reproach of other 
men.. It may be so; there may be such sins, as 
thoughts and purposes of the heart, which can be 
known only to God ; and it may be, some sinful 
actions too, the acknowledgment whereof, particu- 
larly to God himself, may be sufficient ; and the ac- 
knowledgment of them in public, how innocently 
soever intended, may be little less sinful, than ,the 
entertaining and committing them. There are 
thoughts and inclinations and argumentations of the 
heart, which, though subdued and repented, may, 
bein^ communicated to others, propagate vice in 
them, with the exclusion of all thoughts of repent- 
ance ; and the very commission of some sins which 
the world can take no notice of, would be much ag- 
gravated (though piously repented of) by a public 
acknowledgment, which, iu many respects, and 
justly, would be accompanied with shame and re- 
proach; and in such cases, secret and hearty re- 
pentance and acknowledgment to God alone,-may 
be sufficient to procure his pardon and abspiution. 
But when the case is not of this nature, nor made 
up of these circumstances ; when the sins and trans- 
gressions are public and notorious; when many 
men have received the injury, and undergone the 


damaige and reproach; when my neighbour hath 
been defrauded by qsy rapine and injustice, or tra- 
duced by my slanders and calumny ; the acknow- 
ledgment ought to be as public ad the offence : nor 
can a secret confession'to God alone constitute his 
repentance, when others are injured, though he be 
most dishonoured ; and we may, without breach of 
charity, doubt that it is a very faint repentance, that 
hath not strength enough to come into the air, and 
to beg pardon and reconcilement of those whom the 
penitent hath offended. True repentance is a very 
severe magistrate, and will strip off all that shelter 
and covering which would make the stripes to be 
less sensibly felt, and reckons shame an essential 
part of the punishment. It is 'a rough physician, 
that draws out the blood that inflames, and purges 
out the humours, which corrupt or annoy the vitals ; 
leayes no phlegm to cherish envy, nor no choler and 
melancholy to engender pride ; and will rather re- 
duce the body to a skeleton, than suffer those per- 
niciotts humours to hiftve a source, from whence 
they may abound again to infest the body or the 
mind. True repentance is inspired with so much 
humility, that it fears nothing- so much as to re- 
ceive too much respect or countenance*; and js 
glad to meet with men as proud and cruel as those 
sins were which are repented, and receives reproach 
and shame as bracelets and garlands which become 
it. They, who will not willingly acknowleii^e to 
those persons who have been injured by them, that 
they have done Xhem wrong, have made but a half 
acknowledgment, and half repentance to God him- 
self^ have not put in that security^ which can t>nly 
give jthem credit, that they will not do the same 


again ; nor 0ud that obligation upon tbemselves* 
which wotild startle them when they shall be about 
to do it again. Men are not so easily tempted to 
coiiimit the same offence again, and to the same 
man, which they have before committed and ac- 
knowledged to the same person; and men may 
reasonably doubt, that they will not only be inclined 
to do the same when they have the same opportu- 
nify, but that they resolve to do it, when they pre- 
tend to repent, and refuse to acknowledge it: nor 
is tt possible for any man who is penitent in truth, 
to give any reasons against this acknowledgment, 
wfaidi will not bring a great blemish upon his re- 
pentanee, and make the sincerity thereof to be justly 

Besides the discredit which this want of particu- 
lar acknowledgment exposes their repentance to, 
and the just ground it administers to suspect the 
truth and reality thereof, it deprives the penitent 
(if we may so call him) of very great benefit and 
advantage he might receive thereby : how far he 
can recopciie himself to heaven without it, is worth 
at least a very serious doubt ; but it is plain enough, 
that without It, a reconciliation with men, which is 
very desirable by all good Christi^ms, is absolutely 
impossible. Acknowledgment makes all accounts 
even, often satisfies them, and stops all farther de- 
mands ; infallibly it prevents the asperity in de- 
manding; without it the debt remains still, with 
the anger and indignation of fhe creditor : the debt, 
how desperate soever, is due ; and if it can never be 
recovered, it will always be objected ; nbr is there 
any other Way to raze out the memory of it, but a 
free remitting It^ which is often due to the acknow- 

-tedgraent. Acts of tttate and indemnity may ex- 
tingnlsh all pefiaities and punishments to be in- 
flicted by law, for faults committed and injuries, re- 
cdved ; and acts of oblivion may so far oblige men 
to forget the injuries they hare received, as neither 
to reproach or upbraid those who did them, or to 
require satisfaction for the damage ; bnt no such 
acts, obr any authority under heaven, can take 
away the obligation of .repentance, or inhibit ac- 
knowledgment, which is a branch of repentance, 
though it cannot be exacted by any earthly tri- 
bunal. He that performs this acknowledgment, and 
hath therewith made his repentance perfect, hath 
malle his peace with God, and hath done his part 
towards doing it with men ; and if it be refused by 
tfaeto, he hath made himself superior, or at least so 
equal to them, that his former injustice hath not 
so evil an' aspect as to fright him, and they who 
were injured have only gotten an argument of re* 
pentance. If acknowledgment bore no other fruit 
bnt this, that it disbnrthens the breast of a weight 
that would, sink it, and makesimen stand upon the 
same level with those who were before superior to 
them ; that it makes the reproaches which were 
before due to them, turn afterwards to be guilt in 
the reproacher'; it would be a full recompense for 
any pains in the performance, and would pay a 
great debt with a little money : but when the 
thoughts of the heart can only be Imown to the 
searcher of the heart, and there is an evidence due 
to men of the integrity of the heart, especially when 
the malice and corruption of it hath been too no- 
torious ; men Qwe it to themselves, to their repu- 
tation^ to their peace of mind, to make their sor- 


146 - LORD clarendon's BS8AY8. 

row for what they have done amiss as manifiest as 
the worst of their actions have been : and the more 
they are delighted with their repentance (as a 
greater joy and delight there cannot be in this world 
than in repentance), the more delight they take in 
fall and frequent acknowledgment to those whom 
Ihey have offended. Repentance is not a barren 
tree, that bears only leaves for shadow and repose; 
bat a tree that ** brings forth frait meet for repent- 
ance :". vtrithout such fmit it most " be hewn down 
and. cast into the fire," (Matt. iii. 7, 8.) and ac- 
Itnowledgment is the least precious frnlt it can bear. 
Nothing so common amongst persons of the bluest 
quality and degree, when death approaches, whose 
very aspect files off all those rough and unsmooth 
appearances, and mortifies all haughty imagination 
of a faculty and qualification to do wrong, as for 
great men to acknowledge and ask pardon of their 
■meanest servants, whom they have treated un- 
kindly i and for princes themselves to confess in- 
juries they have done, and to desire forgiveness of 
their poorest subjects. And without doubt, what 
becomes a man upon his death-bed, would beocHse 
him better in his fuU and perfect health; it may 
possibly do himself good then, but undoubtedly it 
would not have done him less before, and his example 
would have been much more beneficial to others. 

As acknowledgment is necessary with reference 
to persons^ so it is no less with reference to places ; 
they who have taught and published any doctrine 
which they then thought to be true, and have since 
been convinced of the error and falsehood of it, are 
bound to declare in the same places, or as publicly,. 
such their conviction ; and (0 take as much pains 


ID boDviDce their auditory of the error, as thejr did 
before to lead them into It. And this is an inge- 
unity 'becoming an honest man, and inseparable 
from repentance ; and the^greatest charity that can 
be showed towards those who renounce such publi* 
cation, is, to belieye that they are not sorry, nor 
repent what they have done ; and there can be no 
obligation in conscience upon any man to say he is 
sorry when he is not sorry ; but to beliere that he 
doth repent, and yet not think fit to acknowledge 
tjiat he doth so, is impossible. They who have 
preached sedition, and thereby led men into nn* 
warrantable actions by their authority ; and they 
who have printed books, and by arguments from 
scripture or other authority, have imposed upon 
men's understandings, and persuaded men to be- 
lieve what is contrary to scripture, and to that au- 
thority which they have alleged, and are in their 
eoDSciencesnow satisfied that they were then in the 
yvrong ; cannot reasonably believe that the asking 
God forgiveness in private, and acknowled^ng their 
error to him, is enough to constiuite a Christian 
repentance that works unto salvation. If it be rea* 
sonable to believe that the ill which we learn from- 
^rmpt masters, or in evil conversation, shall, 
though not excuse us, in a great part be put upon 
their account who have so corrupted us, it must 
needs concern those instructors and sefiucers, to do 
(be best they can to undo the mischief they have 
done, by giving timely notice to their proselytes, 
that it is not safe for them to follow, that advice 
they have given them. The examples of great men, 
Md the discourses of men eminent for learning and 

148 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

piety, have^ ia all ages drawn many into the seaat 
actions and the same opinions, upon no other ac* 
count than their^ submission to their HUthority and 
discourse ; nor in truth can the m^or part of man- 
kind propose a more perfect rule to walk by> than 
foy following the examples of men reputed for per- 
sons of honour and integrity In their actions, and 
snbmitting their understandings, in mattei^s of 
opinion, to the direction of those who are eminent 
for learning, judgment, and sanctity; and Reason 
(which is the goddess all men now sacrifice to) haUi 
done its full office, when it hath convinced them- 
that it Is most reasonable so to do. "^They there- 
fore, who find themselves possessed of this sovje- 
reign authority, though they do not affect it, and 
have it only by the voluntary resignation of those 
who will be so governed, had need to take the more 
care what they say and what they do ; and as soon 
as they know they have said or done amiss, they are* 
obliged in conscience to make it known to those, 
who they have reason to believe were led by them. 
A man who hath heard a doctrine preached by a 
man whose learning he believed to be very great, 
and his integrity equal to his learning, or hath seep 
a sermon printed, and retains his reverence for him, 
which he hath reason to do after he is dead, and 
is as much swayed by his authority as if he were 
still alive ; ^ch a man is plainly betrayed, if this 
preacher changed his opinion, repented that hoever 
preached that doctrine, and kept his repentance to 
himself, and concealed it from any of those who 
were misled and seduced by him. Metbinks, after 
St. Austin's example, men should not be ashamed 


of fetractions ; nor could bis examine operate so 
tittle, if they were eodaed with his precious spirit 
of recoUectioD aud repentance. 

There is another branch of repentance, which it^ 
may be Is more grievous than that of aclcnowledg- 
ment, which is reparation ; an inseparable ingre* 
dient and effect of repentance : which needs startle 
men the less, because conscience never obliges men 
to ImQessibilities. He that hath stolen more than 
he is worth, is in the same condition with him who 
hath borrowed more than he can pay ; a true and 
hearty desire to restore is and ought to be received 
as satisfaction : *^ Jf the wicked restore the pledge, 
give again that he had robbed, walk in the sta- 
tutes of life without committing iniquity, he shall 
surely live, he shall not die," ,(Ezek. xxxiii. 15.) 
Robbei7 and violence (Would be too gainful a trade, 
if a man might quit all scores by repentance, and 
detain all he hath gotten ; or if the father's repent- 
ance might serve the turn, and the benefit of the 
transgression be transmitted as an inheritance to 
the son. If the pledge remain, it must be resto- 
red ; the retaining it is committing a new iniquity, 
and forfeits any benefit of the promise ; if he hath 
it not, nor is able to procure it, his hearty repent- 
ance is enough without reparation : but to enjoy and - 
to look every, day upon the spoil, and yet to profess 
repentance, i^ an affront to God Almighty, aud a 
greater sin than the first act of violence, when he 
did not pretend to think of him, and so did not 
think of displeasing him': whereas now he j>retend8 
to reconcile himself to God, and mocks him .with 
repentance, whilst he retains the fruit of his wick* 
ed^esB with the same pleasure he committed it. He 


who 18 truly peniteiity restores wbat he hath left td 
the person that was deprived of it, and pays the 
rest in devout sorrow for his trespass. It is a weak. 
tnd a vain imagination, to think that a man ifrho 
hath been in rebellion j and thereby robbed any man 
of his goods of what Icind soever, and is sorry for 
it, can pacify God for his rebellion, and Iceep those 
goods still to himself, without the true owner's 
eonsent : he' ought to restore them, though the 
other doth not tak them, or know where they are. 
Nor is his case better, who enjoys them by purchase 
or g^ft. Or exchange from another man, without 
having himself any part or share in the rapine, if 
he knows that they ,were unjustly taken, and do of 
right belong to another ; he is bound to restore 
them. Nor is a third excuse better than the otfaSr 
two ; I was myself robbed by others, and am no 
gui^r by what I have taken, but have only repaired 
what was one way or another taken from me : which 
would not be just, if I had fobbed the same person . 
who robbed me, except I could rescue my own 
goods again out of his hands ; and justice will not 
ailow that, by any act of violence, because I cannot 
be judge In my own interest : but to take what be- 
longs to another man, because I kuow not who hath 
done the like to me, u so contrary to all the ele- 
ments of e(i«ity, that no man can pretend to repent 
and to believe it together. lulstead of restoring the 
pledge, to hug it every day in my arms and take de- 
light in it, whilst it may be the true owner wants 
it, or dares not demand it, is a manifest evidence 
that I think I do not stand in need of the pardon 
the prophet pronounces ; or that I believe I can ob- 
tain it another way, and upoh easier cooditiong. 


And, indeed, if it coald £dl into a man's natural 
conception or imaginiddon, how a man can think H 
possiUe to be sdnolyed. from the payment of a debt 
which he doth not acknowledge to be dne, nor pre- 
tend to be willing to pay if he were able ; or how » 
man can hope to procure a release for a trespass^ 
when he is able pay the damage, or some pait 
thereof, yet obstinaldy refiises to do it at tiie time 
he desires the release $ the condition imdjob^ifiaof 
wonld be the less admirable. It is nataral enongli 
for powerfol and proud oppressors not to ask -par- 
don for an injury, which they to whom it is done 
eansot call to justice for ; and for a desperate 
bankrupt not to ask a release from a man, who 
^atk no evidence of the debt which he claims, or 
means to recover it, if it were confessed : but to 
eotifess so much weakness as to beg and sue for a 
pardon^ and to hkve so much impudence and folly 
as not to perform the condition, withont which the 
pardon is void and of no efiect ; to ride upon the 
same horse to the man from whom he stole it, and 
desire his releate without so much as < ofSeriag to 
restore it, is such a circle of brutish madness, thsit 
it cannot fall into the mind of inan endowed with 
reason, though void of religiqn. Therefore it caa^ 
not be a breach q>f charity to believe that men of 
that temper, who pretend to be sorry and to repent 
the having done that which they find not safe to 
justify, and yet retain to themselves the foil benefit 
of their unrighteousness, do not in truth believie 
that they did amiss; and so are no otherwise sorry 
than men are who have lost their labour, and re- 
pent only that they ventured so much for so little 
profit : whereas if they felt any compunction of 


coDsdence, which is but a preparation to Tepent- 
aicie, they would rememher any success they had in 
their wickedness, as a bitter judgment of God upon 
them, and wpuld ru^ from what they have got by 
it, as from a strong enemy that encloses and shuts 
them up, that repentance may not enter into tfadr 
hearts. - 

There is another Innd of reparation and restitu- 
tion, that i» a child of repentance ; a fruit that re- 
pentance cannot choose but bear ; which is, repUF- 
ing a man's reputation, restoring his good narae^ 
which he hath talien or endeavoured to take from 
him by calumnies and slanders : which is a greatev 
robbery than plundering a man's house, or robbiag 
him of his goods. If the tongue be sliarp enougk 
to give wounds, it must be at the charge of balsam 
to put into them ; not only such as will heal the 
wound, but such as will wipe out the scar, and leave 
no mark behind it. Nor will private acknowledg- 
ment to the person injured, be any manifestation or 
evidence of repentance ; fear ^ay^ produce that, oat 
of apprehension of chastisement ; or good husbandry 
may dispose sr man to it, to avoid the payment of 
great damages by the direction of justice and the 
law : but true repentance issues out of a higheir 
court, and is not satisfied with submitting to the 
censures of public authority ; but inflicts greater 
penalties than a common judge can do, because it 
hath a clearer view and prospect into the nature of 
the offbnce, discerns the malice of the heart, dnd 
every circumstance in the committing, and applies 
a plaister proportionable to the wound and to the 
■scak*. If the calumny hath been raised in a whis- 
per, and been afterwards divulged without the ad- 


vice or privity of l^e calamniator, it sendi him in 
porsuit of that whisper, and awards him to vindi- 
cate the injured person in all places, and to all per- 
sons who have heen infected by it ; if it hath been 
vented originally in defamatory writings, which 
have wrought upon and perverted more men, than 
can be better informed by any partieidar.apffi^^oa» 
iK^m iimimoiifiTy soever made, it obUges men to 
wsite volumes, till the recognition be as public and 
notorious as the defamation ; and it uses the^^me 
rigour, awards the same satisfaction, upon any other 
' violation of .truth, by which men have been seduced 
or misled : whilst the poor penitent is so far from 
murmuring or repining at the severity of his pe- 
nance, that he still fears it is not enough, that it is 
too light a punishment to expiate h& transgression, 
and would gladly undergo even mote than he can 
bear, out of the aversion he hath to the deformity 
of his guilt, and the glimmering prospect he hath 
of that happiness, which only the sincerity of his 
repentance csfli bring him to : he abhors and detests 
that heraldry^ which for honour sake would divert 
or obstruct his most humble acknowledgment to 
the poorest person he hath offended ; and would 
•gladly exchauge all his titles and his trappings, for 
the rags and innocence of the poorest beggar. Re* 
pentance is a magistrate that exacts the strictest 
duty and humility, becaase the reward it gives is in- 
estimable and everlasting ; and the pain and punish- 
ment it redeems men from, is oHhe same continu- 
ance, and yet Intolerable. 

There are two ima^nations or fancies (for opi- 
mons they cannot be) which insinuate themselves 
into the minds of men, who do not love to think 

H 2 


of their own desperate condition. One is, that a 
general asking God forjn^enesfl for all the sins he 
hath committed, without charging his memory ynih 
metitioning the particulars, is ^ sufficient repent- 
ance to procure God's pardon for them all: the 
other, that si man may heartily repent thehaTing 
" committed oqc particular sin, and thereupon obtain 
Ood's favour and fojgireness, though he practises 
other sins, which he believes are not so grievons, 
and so defers the present repentance of; that if he 
hath committed a murder, he can repent that, and 
.resolve never to do the like again, and thereupon 
obtain his pardon, and yet retain his inclination to 
other excesses. Which two Isinds of suggestion are' 
so gross and ridiculous (if .any thing can be called 
ridiculous that hath relation to repentance), that no 
man is so impudent as to own them, though in' 
truth some modern casuists are not far from teach- 
ing the former ; yet if we descend into ourselves, 
make that strict scrutiny and inquisition into every 
corner of our hearts, as true repentance doth exact 
from us, and will see performed by us, we shall 
find and must confess, that they are these and such 
like trivial and lamentable imaginations, which 
make us so unwary in all our actions, so uncircum- 
ftpect throughout the course of our lives^ and are 
the cause that in a whole nation of transcendent 
offenders, there are so very few who become true 
penitents, or manifest their repentance by those 
signs and marks with which it is always and can- 
not but be attended. 

* God forbid, that death-bed repentance should 
"not do us good, or that death should approach to- 
wards afiy man who is without repentance; he who 



recollects himself best before, will havift work 
enough for repentaDce in the last minute; and it 
is possible, and but possible, that he who hath ne- 
ver recoUected himself before, may hare the grace 
to repent so cordially then, and m^ike such a saving 
reflection upon all the sins of his life, though he - 
hath neither time nor memory to number them, that 
he may obtain a full remission of them. Repent- 
ance indeed is so strong a balsam^ that one dro]^ 
of it piit into the most noisome wound perfectly 
cures it. But that men, who cannbt but observe 
how a little pain or sickness indisposes and makes 
them unfit for any transaction ; who know hoW 
often the torment of the gout in the least joint. Or 
a sudden pang of the stone, hath distracted them 
even in the most solemn and premeditated exercise 
of devotion, that the^ have retained no gesture or 
word fit for that sacrifice; I say, it is very strange 
that any such man, who hath himself unde^one, 
or seen t>thers undergo, such visitations, should 
believe it possible that upon his death-bed, in thalt 
agony of pain, in those inward convulsions, strug- 
gUngs, and torments of dissolution, which are th^ 
ustial forerunners and messengers of death, or can 
pi^snme upon, or Hope for such a composure of 
mind and memory in that melancholy season, a^ 
to recollect and reflect upon all those particulars of 
his mispent life, as his departing soul must within 
a few minutes give an account, a very exact account 
of ; and therefore it cannot be otherwise, and how 
much soever we disclaim the assertion, we are iii 
truth so foolish as to be imposed upon by that 
pleasant imagination, l^hat there goes much les^ to 
^pentanee than severe inen would persuade us» 



' and Ihat a ^ery short time, an4 as short ao c^aea-' 
lation, which shall be very he^y, and which we 
stUl think so nrnch of in our intentions thajt^we are 
sare wc cannot forget them, will serve oar turn, and 
will carry ns fairly oat of this world, and leave a 
very good report of ovr Christianity with the 
atandersohy, who will give a fair testimony. If we 
did not think this, or did not think at all, which 
yet it may be is better than thinking this, we should 
not spend oar time as we do, oommit so many foU 
lies and wickednesses, and give no cause to liie 
Qiost charitable man to believe that we are in any 
degree sorry for either, when he sees as so con- 
stantly practise both, and live as we did really think 
that we are only to account for the last moment of 
oar life, and therefore that it is enough if we pro- 
vide that that shall be commendable and full 06 

Tlie other as extravagant imagination, that a man 
may repent so heartily one particular sin, that he 
may be well satisfied that God hath accepted his 
humiliation and sealed his pardon, and yet retail 
and practice some other sins, of whose iniquity be 
is not yet thorooghly convinced, or of which he 
takes farther time to repeht, hath gotten so much 
credit with many of us, who are willing to persuade 
other men, and it may be ourselves, that we do 
heartily detest and abominate some sin we have for« 
meriy practised, and have cordially repented it^ 
though we do too much indulge some otl^r natural 
infirmity, whidi leads ns into great transgresrions 
of another kind. • If nothing of this argumentation 
did prevail upon us, we could not- at the same time 
pretend to have, with a grievous sense of our gv]lt| 


icpeated our rebellion, or any such aet of oatrage, 
and hare washed oar souLs dean from that sin with 
oor tears, when yet we retain onr ambition, and 
hane. the same impatient appetite for prefennent 
that we hadbefore, and which it may be led us into 
that rebeilion ; that we hare thoroughly repented 
every act of oppression that we have committed, 
tfaoQgfa we have still avarice and desire to be rich,, 
tiiat hath not left us. It may be, the practice of 
repentance hath not been more obstructed by any 
thing, than by the customary discourse, and the 
senseless <tistinction, of true and false, perfect and 
imperfect repentance; whereas, if it be not trii» 
and perfect, it is not repentance ; if it be not as It 
should be, it is not at all.i There are Indeed many 
pceparations, many approaches towards it, which,' 
weU entered upon and pursued, will come to re» 
pentance at last ; there must be recollection, and 
there must be sorrow, and sorrow stretched to the 
utmost extent, before it can arrive >t repentance; 
and it must be repentance itself, none of those pre- 
paiiitives, that must carry us to heaven ; and that 
repentance is no more capable of eqlargement and 
diminution, than the joys of heaven are, which are 
stUl the same, neither more nor le&. If we do re* 
pent any one sin we have committed, we can have 
no more inclination to commit any other, of how 
different a kind soever from the dther, than we 
conM desire, if we were in heaven, to return to the 
earth again ; it is sin itself, in all the several spe- 
cies of it, in all the masks and disguises that it hath 
ever presented itself to us in, which we detest, if 
we are arrived at repentance. 
And because, as hath been said before, we csiB- 


158' LORD clarendon's ESSAYS^ 

not make too strict a scrutiny into our own actions,, 
nor take too much care iu the compounding this 
precious cordial that must revive us and make us 
Ure after we are dead, we shall do well frequently 
to confer with pious men upon the most proper 
expedients to advance this duty in us; and because 
examples are more, powerful motives (owards any 
perfection than precepts, we cannot do better than 
recollect as many of those as our own experience, 
or histories of uncontroverted veracity, or the ob- 
servatioti of other men, can suggest to us; that by 
observing the steps they made towards it, and the 
manifestation they gave of it, we may the better 
comport ourselves towards the attaining our end, 
and the assurance that ve have attained it : and 
having for some years lived in a country, where, 
* there is as great evidence of sins committed, and 
as little of repentance as in any other country; and 
having met with there^a rare example of this kind, 
and so much the more rare as it is in a person of the 
most illustrious family in France, the house of the 
king himself, and a thing so known that there is no 
room to doubt the truth thereof; I think it yery 
pertinent to the design of this short discourse, to 
insert so much of it as to my understanding may 
exceedingly work upon ' the minds of other men : 
the person is the prince of Conti, younger brother 
to the prince of Cond^« next prince of the blood to 
the children of the crown, and to the king's own 
brother, who died in the year 1664, in Paris. This 
prince having great endowments of mind, but edu- 
cated in all the licence of that nation, and corrupted 
' with the greatest licence of it, some years i)efore 
his death had the blessing to make seyere reflectfons 

OF repbntAncb. 1^9 

upon the past actions of his life ; and thereapon 
imposed upon himself great 'strictness aDd^rigottr, 
iu a notorious retirement from the court, in the 
conversation of the most pious and deTont meo» 
and in the exercise of all thosie actions of devotion 
which become a Christian resolution, in the faith 
in which> he had been educated ; and being in per- 
fect health, but well knowing by the ill structure 
of his body that he could not live, the crookedness 
^ and stooping of his head and shouldeu making his 
respiration very difficult, and increasing, suffocated 
him, he made his last will, beginning in these 
words : " This day, the 24th of May, 1664, 1, Ar- 
mand de Bourbon, prince of Conti, being in my 
house in^Paris, sound in body and mind, and not 
willing to be surprised by death without making 
my^'will, do make this my present testament." And 
then making that profession of his religion, and 
disposing his soul in that manner as becomes a pious . 
man in that church, whereof he was a very zealous 
member, he enters upon the disposal of his estate, 
and used these words : " I am extremely sorry to 
have' been so unhappy as to find myself in my 
younger age engaged in a war contrary to my duty ;, 
dtiring whicji I permitted, ordered, and authorized 
violences and disorders without number; and al- 
though the king hath had the goodness to forget 
this failing, I remain nevertheless justly account- 
able before God to those corporations and particular" 
persons, who then suffered, be it in Guienne, Xan- 
toinge. Berry, la Marche, be it in Champaigne, and 
about Damvilliers; upon which account I. have 
caused certain sums to be restored, of which the 
dieur Jas3e> my treasurer^ hath a particular know* 


ledge ; and I bare panionately desired that it were 
jn my power to sell all my estate, that I might give 
a more fall satisfaction. But having upon this oc- 
casion submitted myself to the Judgment of man^ 
prelates and learned and pions personsy they have 
judged that I was not obliged to reduce myself alto- 
gether to the condition of a private man, but that I 
ought to serve God in my ranlt and quality; in 
which nevertheless I have withdrawn as much m 
was possible from my household ezpeMei» to tke 
end $hat, during my life, I m^ restose eiery yei^ 
as much as I can save of my revenues. And I 
charge my heirs, who shall hereafter be named in 

. tlus my win, to do the same thing, until the da* 
mages that I have caused be fully repaired, accord- 
ing to the instructions which shall be found in the 
hands of the Sieur Jasse, or in my papers. To this 
end, I desire the executors of my will, and her who 

. shall be entrusted with the educatton of my chil- 
dren, to reduce and moderate^ as much as may be, 
their expenses, that the foresaid restitutions may 
be continued every year, according to my order?. 
And if it happen that my heirs and their issue have, 
either from the bounty of the king, or by any other 
way, riches enough to maintain them handsomdy, 
I will and order that they sell all the estate which 
they enjoy as being my successors; and that tl^ey 
distribute the price of it amongst those provinces, 
and in' those places, which have suffered on the 
account of the said wars, following t^e orders con* 
tained in the sM instructions, if the said placet or 

. persons have not been already sufficiently repaid 
by me, or by some other. And if it fall out that 
my children die without issue, so that my Une be 


^9 I intend Ukewi^ that my estate be sold^ 
for to be wholly employed in the said restitutions^ 
my- collateral friends having enough elsewhere. 

** l/lesire that those papers which shall be found^ 
writ or signed with my hand, concerning affairs 
where 1 have -doubted, if in, point of conscience I 
were obliged to a restitution or not, be very care- 
folly and rigorously examined ; the which 1 pray 
my execators moreover, if it be found by notes 
written or signed with my hand, that I have veri- 
fied or acknowledged myself to be obliged to any 
restitution or satisfaction whatever, I desire that 
they may be executed, as if every particular thing" 
contained in them^ was jexpressly ordered by this. 
present will." Then he commits the education of 
his children (whom he makes his heirs) to his wife^ 
and desires the parliament of Paris to confirm her 
in the tuition of his children ; and then names his 
executors, who upon his decease are to become 
possessed of all his estate to the purposes aforesaid^ 
and so signs the will with his hand the 4th of May, 
1664, Armande de Bourbon. 

His paper of instructions was likewise published 

with his will, that so the persons concerned might 

know to whom to repair. The words are these : 

*^ The order which I desire may be observed in the 

restitution which I am obliged to make in Guienne^ 

Xantoinge, la Marche, Berry, Champaigne, and 

Damvilliers, &c. In the first place, those losses 

and damages which have been caused by my orders 

or my troops ought to be repaired before all others, 

as being of my own doing. In the second place, I 

am responsible, very justly, for all the mischie£i 

which t&e general disorders of the war have pror* 

162 LORD clarbmdon's essays. 

daced, althoagh they have been done^ isathont my 
haying any part in them, provided that I have sa- 
tisfied for the first. 1 owe no repanitkm to those 
who have been of our party, except they can make 
it appear that I havQ sought and invited them to it; 
and in this case, it will be just to sestore first of all 
to those innocent persons who have had no part in 
my fallings, before that any thing can he given to 
those who have been our confederates : the better 
to observe this distributi^'e justice, I desire that my 
restitutions may be made in such a manner, that they 
may be spread every where ; to the end that it fall 
not out, that amongst many that have sufiered, 
some be satisfied and others have nothing. But 
since I have not riches enough for to repay at one 
time all those corporations and particular persons 
who have sufiered, I desire, &c." and so decreed 
the method and order the payments should be made 
in; the whole of which, by his computation, 
would be dischaxged in twenty years ; but if it so 
fell out, that the estate should be entirely sold, the 
whole pi^yment was to be made at once. ; and it was 
a marvellous recollection of particular oppressions, 
which he conceived might have been put upon his 
tenants by his officers, some whereof were not re- 
mediable by law, by reason of prescription, which 
he declared that he would not be defended by, but 
appointed that the original right should be strictly 
examined ; and If his possession was founded in 
wrong, he disclsumed the prescription, and com* 
manded that satisfaction should be made to those 
who had been injured, even by his atfcestors, and 
before his own time ; and required, that any doubts 
which might arise upon any of his instmctionsy or 


ID tbe cases ia 'which he intended satisfaction shonld 
he given, might and should he examined and judged 
by men of tbe strictest and most rigid jintice^ and 
not hy men of loose principles. 

I do not naturally, in discourses of this nature, 
delight in so large excursions in the mention of 
particular actions performed by men, how godly 
and exemplary soever^ because the persons who 
do them are always without any desire that what 
they do should be made public, and' because re* 
pentance hath various operations in minds equally 
virtyotts : yet meeting very accidentally with this 
record, without hanng scarce ever heard it men- 
tioned by any man in the country, where there is 
room enough for proselytes of the same nature, 
and cause enough to celebrate the example, as I 
took great delight in examining and re-examining 
every particular, and not being an absolute stranger 
to the subject reflected upon, having been pre- 
sent in the same country at that time, I could not 
conclude this discourse more pertinently, than with 
such an instance at large ; presuming that it may 
make the same impression upon others that it hath 
upon me, and make us the more solicitous to call 
ourselves to an account for all commissions, and to 
pray to God to give us the grace to repent in such a 
way, and to such a degree, as may be most for his 
glory, our Qwb salvation, and the edification of 
others towards the a^tsuning the same. 


MontpelUer, Msrcb 9* ^670. 

TuEJBLZ is not throughout the whole bible of thi 


Old Testament, that term or word Conscience t0 
be found ; nop is it used in Scripture till the eighth 
chapter of the gospel written by St. John, i%'hen 
the Jews brought the woman that had been t^ken 
in adultery before our Saviour, whom they impor- 
tuned to do justice upon her; and he, who knew 
their, malice was more against him than the wo> 
man, said, " He that is without sin amongst yon, 
let him first cast a stone at her : and they which 
heard K, being convicted by their own conscience, 
went out one by one, beginning at the eldest even 
to the last," (ver. 7, 9.) Nor is the Greek virord 
cvtettriffts, which throughout the New Testament 
signifies conscience, ever used by the Septn^gint, 
(as some learned men affirm) except only in the 
10th chapter of Ecclesiastes, ver. 20, which is thus 
translated, '' Curse not the king, no not in thy 
thought." So that conscience seems to be the pro- 
per and natural issue of the (vospel, which intror 
dnced a stricter survey of the heart of man, and a 
more severe inquisition into the thoughts thereof, 
than the law had done. He who could not be 
accused by sufficient witnesses to have violated the 
law, was thought to be innocent enough ; but the 
Ck>spel erected another judicatory,' and another 
kind of examination, &nd brought men who could 
not be charged by the law, to be convicted by their 
own conscience ; and therefore St. Paul, in his jus* 
tification before Felix, after he had denied all that 
the Jews had charged him vnth, and affirmed that 
he had broken no law, added, " And herein do I 
exercise myself, to have always a conscience void 
of- offence toward God and toward men/' (Acts 
xxlv. 16.) his behaviour was 90 exact^ that h« M 


tot only abstain from* (loing any man wrong, but 
from giving' any man a just occasion to be offended 
with him. It is a calamity never enough to be 
lamented, that this legitiibate daughter of the Gos- 
pd of peace should grow so prodigiously nnnatursd 
and impettions, as to attempt to tear out the bowels 
of her mother, to tread all charity under foot, and 
to destroy all peace upon the earth ; that conscience 
should stir men up to rebellion, introduce mUrder 
and' devastation, licence the breach of all God's 
commandments, and pervert the nature of man 
from* all Christian charity, humility, and compas- 
sion, to a brutish inhumanity, and delight in those 
acts of injustice and oppression that nature itself 
abhors and detests ; that conscience, that is in- 
fused to keep the breast of every man clean from 
encroaching vices, which lurk so close that the eye 
of the body cannot discern them, to correct and 
suppress those unruly affections and appetites, which 
might otherwise undiscenied corr^ipt the soul to an 
irrecoverable guilt, and hath no jurisdiction to ex- 
ercise upon other men, but it is confined 'within its 
own natural sphere ; that this enclosed conscience 
should break ' its bo»uds and limits, neglect the 
looking to any thing at home, and straggle abroad 
and' exercise a tyrannical power over the actions 
and th^ thoughts of other men, condemn princes 
and magistrates, infriuge all laws and order of 
government, assume to itself to appoint what all 
other shall doj and out of tenderness to itself ex- 
ercise all. manner of cruelty towards other men : I 
say tliat this extravagant presumption should take 
or claim any warrant from conscience, is worthy 
of the anger and indignation of sdl Christians, and 



of ft general eombination to reclaim and btad up 
this unruly, destroying, rarenoufi nnderminer and 
dttvoarer of souls. The apostle, when he prescribed 
this light to walk by, in the daric times Of infidelity, 
Ignorance, and persecution, knew well enough how 
unlimited the fancy and pride and covertures of 
the Eeart of man were ; and therefore he takes ail 
possible care to establish the power and jurisdiction 
of kings and magistrates, and obedience to laws 
under the eibUgation of conscience, and required 
sul^ection to all those, not oply for wrath (for fear 
of punishment) but for conscience sake: and the 
same apostle thought it a very necessary prescrip- 
tion to Timothy, that he should keep his dtiocese to 
the ^* holding faith and a good conscience, which 
some having put away, concerning faith had made 
shipwredc;" that is, some men, by depaiting from 
the.mles- of conscience, by the suggestions of £aith 
and religion, they mado shipwreck ef that &ith and 
religion which they meant to advance. Conscience 
is the best bit and bridle to restrain the liceaee aud 
excess which faith itself may introduce and give 
countenance to: conscience can never lead us into 
any unwarrantable and unjust action; but that it 
is not enoughy he whose conscience dpes net check 
and restrain him from euteriog into actions con- 
trary to God's commandments, may reasonably con- 
(slude that he hath no conscience, but that he lies 
under temptation which cannot prevail without 
laying the conscience Waste, and rooting out all 
that God hath planted there; and a man may as 
teasonably pretend to commit adultery out of con- 
science, as to rebel or resist lawful authority by the 
obligation of conscience | and they who think tiiem- 


M^vta qaa^SSed for the latter by that impa^oiiy can 
never find reason to aitbdae a strong temptation to 
the othen Conscienee may very reasonably restrain 
and hiilder a man from, doing that which would be 
coiuristent enoniB^ with conscience to be done ; nay, 
it mi^ oblige him to snffer and undergo punishment, 
rather than to do that which might be lawful for 
lum. It is not necessary, though it were to be 
wifliied, that erery man's conscience sliould be so 
sharp-sighted, as to discern the inside of every 
doubt that shall arise ; it may be too hard for me, 
when anotlier man may be as much too hard for it, 
and then 1 ought not to do what he lawfully and 
justly may do ; but this is only the restriotive nega- 
tive power of conscience, the affirmative power 
hath not that force. Conscience can never oblige 
a man to do, or excuse him for doing, what is evil 
in itself,, as treason, murder, or rebellion, under. 
what specious pretences soever, which want, of un- 
derstanding and want of honesty suggest where 
there is want of conscience ; and it is a very hard 
thmg ^ assert, that any thing can proceed ham 
the conscienee of that man who is void of know- 
ledge,, since there is some .science necessary to 
be supposed, where there is a pretence to oon- 

He who obstinately refuses, upon the obligation 
of conscience, to do what the law under which he 
lives, and to which he owes subjection and obe- 
dience^ -requires him positively to. do, had need to 
be sure that his doing of that which he is enjoined, 
and denies to do, is in itself sin&il, and expressly 
furbid by the word of Qod. Doubting in this point 
is not excuse or warrant enough; the reverence 

i6d LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 


he ought to have to the governtnent and governors 
of his country, that the modest believing that a 
Christian kingdom or commonwealth cannot Com- 
bine together to damn themselves, and all who live 
under them, should have power and authority 
enough to suppress and over-rule all doubts to the 
Contrary. But if in truth the matter be so clear 
to him, that by obeying this law he becomes a 
rebel to God, I know not how his consdence can 
excuse him for stayhig and living under that go- 
vernment, and from making haste away to be 
under the protection of another government^ where 
no such sinful action is required or enjoined; for 
no man can satisfy his own conscience, that though 
his courage, for the present, will support him to 
undergo the judgment and penalty that his disobe- 
dience is liable to, he may not in the end be weary 
of that submission ; and since the duty is still in- 
eumbent upon him, and may still be required of 
him, be may not a( last purchase his peace and 
quiet with complying in doing that which he knows 
is sinful and must offend God Almighty; and there- 
fore methinks he should, at the same time he re- 
solves to disobey a law that is fixed, and not verf 
probable to be altered, quit the country ~where so 
much tyranny is exercised, and repair to another 
climate, where it is lawful to give unto Cassar what 
belongs unto Caesar, and to give unto God what be- 
long:^ unto God. And if his sfffection to his country 
wilt not suffer him to take that resolution, it is 
probable' that his conscience is not so fully c6nvinced 
of the impiety, of the laws thereof; and the same 
affection should labour to receive that satisfaction, 
that he may be reconciled to give the obedience the 


laws require. The submittiDg to any present in- 
oonvenieiice or- loss or damage, rather than do 
somewhat that is enjoined by pvblic authority to 
be done ; the preferring reproach and disgrace, be- 
fore hononr that must be attended with compliance 
and snbmisrion to what is required of ns, is no ar- 
gnment that svch refusal is an effect of conscienqe ; 
pride, ambition, or revenge, will do the same, to 
raise a party that will enable him to compass and 
bring that to pass which he most desires. We see 
nothing more common, than for men of much vnt 
and no conscience, to impose upon those who have 
no wit and pretend to much conscience, and lead 
them into. ways which are. too rongh for their con* 
sciences to tread in, and to ends that they do not 
desire ; and yet every step they make is an impul- 
sion of their conscience : their conscience will not 
snfler them to take an oath, by which the wrong 
they have done may be discovered and repaired, 
yet that conscience will not compel them to do 
jitttioe, nor restnun them from doing injnry to their 
neighbcmrs; it will neither oblige them to speak 
truth, that may prejudice a man they favour, nor to 
discover a fraud, ^y which they may be bound to 
reparation.- Conicience is made the refuge of all 
perverse' and refractory men, when they will not 
observe the law, and the warrant and incitement 
to any wickedness when they are inclined to break, 
it ; whereas conscience is a natural restraint within 
us, to keep us from doing what our foul affections 
and passions may tempt us to; it may be too 
scrupulous, but it can never be presumptuous ; it 
may hinder us from using the liberty we have, but 
it is too modest to lead im Into any ejtcess } it U 



liable to-fenTy bat never to rashness and impudent 
undertakings : *' For this is thank-wortbyy if a 
man for conscience towards God, endure grief, 
suffering wrongfiilly/' says St. Peter, (1 Peter ii« 
19.) Bnt conscience never carried a man into ac- 
tions for which he is jnstly' to suffer: that is troe 
itendemess of conscience, which is tender of oUier 
men's repntatioii, shy and wary what they think of 
others, and not that which, out of tenderness to 
itself, cares not how it wrongs and Tiolates its 
neighbours. Conscienee is the meekest, humblest 
thing that can be conceived of; and when we find 
any proud thoughts to arise within us, sudi as exalt 
and magnify ourselves, and depress the reputation 
of our neighbour ; when we h'^ve any unpeaceable 
inclination to disturb the quiet of the state, <»" the 
repose of those who live about us ; we may be as 
sure that- those suggestions do not proceed irom 
eonscienee, as that the lusts of the flesh do not 
proceed from the warmth of the spirit. 

*' The t«ee is know by the fruit, a good tree 
cannot bring forth evil fruit ;" and conscience is 
best known by the e0ects; if the product be wrath, 
malice, pride, and contention^ we may swear that 
conscience is not the mother of those children,' 
which can produce nothing but lore, humility, and 
peace ; and men have taken too much pains to en- 
title her to the other unnatural issue. I know not 
how it comes to pass, except it be fi'om a wanton 
^aflectadon of tiie knpropriety of speech, that men 
find out epithets for oonsdenee, which may entitle 
it to as many wproaiches as men think fit to char^ 
it with : they will have an erroneous conscience, 
winch no doubt will contribute to as many evil ac- 


tltms as the heart or hand of man can be gniltf of; 

and tfacy might as well have -called it an imploas 

conscience; yfhen in truth, if it be either iminous 

or erroneons, it ceaseth to be ^ectascience ; it is not 

oonmstent with any of those destruetiTC epitHetB> 

Bor recces any ornament from the best which can 

be anneited to it. Consdenoe implies goodness and 

piety, as mnch as if yon call it good and ]nons. 

The Inaniriant wit of the schooUmen and the con* 

fident fancy of ignorant preachers has so disguised 

it, that all the extravagancies of a light or a siek 

bradn, and l^he results of the most corrupt heart, 

are csdled the effects of conscience i and to make it 

the better understood, the conscience shalLbe called 

erroneons, or eormpt, or tender, as. they have a 

mind to support or condemn those effects. So timt, 

in truth, they have made conscience a disease fit 

to be entrusted to the care of the physician every 

spring and fall, and he is most like to reform and 

regulate the Operation of it. And if the madness 

and folly of men be not in n short time reformed. 

It will be fitter to be confined as a term in physic 

and in law, than to be used or applied to religion 

or s^dvation. Let apothecaries be guided by it in 

their bills, and merchants in their bargains, and 

lawyers in managing their causes; in all which* 

eases it may be waited upon by the epithetsthey 

think fit to annex to it ; it is in great danger to be 

robbed of the integrity in whith it was created, and ^ 

will not have purity enough to carry men to heaven, 

or to choose the way thither. It were to be wished, 

that some pmns were taken to purge away that 

dross, which want of understanding, or vrant of 

honesty^ have annexed to it, that so it- may prove a 

172 LORD clarendon's JB5SAY8. 

good guide; or that that ▼antish may, be taken 
from it, which the artifices of ill men hare dls- 
figured It with, that it be no longer the moat despe- 
rate and dangerous seducer: lest conscience of 
gratitude, for civilities and obligations received, 
dispose women to be unchaste ; and conscience of 
discourtesies and injuries done, or intended to be 
done, provoke men to revenge; and no villany that 
ever entered into the heart of man, but will pre- 
tend to be ushered thither by conscience. If it 
cannot be vindicated from these impure' and im- 
pious cUims, it is pity but i^ should be expunged 
out of all discourses of religion and honesty, a&d 
never mentioned as relating to Christianity : lei it 
be assigned and .appropriated to the politicians, to 
dover their reason of state with, and to disguise 
all treaties between princes with such expressions, 
^at they be no longer bound by these obligations 
than they find the observation of them to be for 
their benefit or convenience; let it be applied only 
to th^ cheats and cozenings of this worid; to the 
deceiving of women in marriages; to the over- 
reaching heirs in mortgages and purchases ; but let 
it never be mentioned in order to our salvation in 
the next world, or as if it could advance our dsum 
to the kingdom of heaven. 

Solomon was the more inexcusable for departing 
from it, by his knowing what the calm and ease 
koA tranquillity of it was ; and he could not ex- 
press it lietter than when he says, that " a good 
conscience is a continual feast." Now there can 
be no feast where there is not amity and peace 
and quiet; a frowai'd, wayward, proud, and quar* 
reiling conscience, can never be a feast^ nor a good 


gaest at a feast ; therefore it cannot he a good con- 
science: 'anger- and ill words break np'any feast; 
for mirtK, that is of the ei^nce of a feast, and a 
great part of the good cheer, is banished by any ill 
humoar that appears. It is not the quantity of the 
meaty but the cheerfulness of the guests, which 
makes the; feast; it was only at the feast of the 
Centaurs, where they ate with one hand, and had 
their drawn swords in the other; where there is 
no peace, there can be no feast. Charity and ten- 
derness is a princi{Nd ingredient in this feast : the 
conscience cannot be too tender, too apprehensiTe 
of angrying any man, of grieving any man ; the feast 
is the more decency carried on never interrupted 
by this tenderness. But if it be tender at some 
times, scrupulous to some purposes, is startled to 
do somewhat against which it hath no objection, 
but that it is not absolutely necessary to be done, 
and at other times is so rough and boisterous, that 
it leaps over all bounds, and rushes into actions 
dishonest and unwarrantable, neither the tender- 
ness nor the presumption hath the least derivation 
from conscience : and a man in a deep consumption 
of the lungs can as well run a race, as a tender con- 
science can lead any man into an action contrary to ^ 
Tirtne and piety. It is possible that the frequent 
appeals that are made upon several occasions to the 
consciences W ill men, do in truth increase their 
love of wickedness; that when they are told that 
their own consciences cannot, but accuse them of 
the ill they do, and they feel no such check or con- 
trol in themselves, they believe from thence that 
^ey do nothing amiss, and so take new courage to 
prosecute the career they are ia: it is a very hard. 


thing to believe, that the worst men can 4o the 
worst things without sbaie sense imd inward com. 
punction, which is the roice of their consciences 
hat it is easy ta think that they may stall and drown 
that yoioe, and that by a custom oi sinning tlie; 
may grow so deaf as not to hear that weak voice; 
that wine may drive away that heaviness that in- 
disposed them to mirth, and ill company may shot 
oat those thoughts which ^voUkl interrupt It : and 
yet, alas ! conscience is not by this subdued; they 
have only made an unlucky truce, that it shall not 
beat up their quarters for some time, till they have 
surfeited upon the pleasure and the plenty of men ; 
it will disturb' and terrify thein^the more for the 
repose it hath suflered them to take. U the strength 
of nature, and the custom of eiscesses, hath given 
the debauched person the privilege of not finding 
any sickness or indisposition from his daily surfeits^ 
aftet a few years he wonders to find .the faculdes 
of his mind and nnderstaiM^ng so decayed that he 
is become a fool, and so much more a fool if be 
does not find it before he comes to that age that 
usually resists all decays and then every body sees, 
if he does not, the nBhappiness of his constttutioa, 
that it was no sooner disturbed by those excesses. 
If the lustful and voluptuous person, who sacrtfiees 
the strength and vigour of his body to the rage 
and temptation of his blood, and spends his nights 
in unchaste embraces; does not in the instant dis. 
cover how much his health is impaired by those 
caresses, he will in a short time, by weakness and 
diseases, have good cause to remember those dis- 
terapers : and »o that conscience that is laid asleep 
by a long lideiitioiis life, and reprehesds not the 


fi»iile9t trgiDflc^aefisians, doth at Isat start ^p in sick- 
ness or Id age^ and plays th^ tyrapt in those season* 
wheD nen most seed comfort, and makes them 
puf de«r interest for their hours of riot, and for the 
charms they vsed, to keep ^t in that lethargy thai 
it iBigbt not awaken them. And since it cannot be 
a feaat, because it is not a good conscience; beinj; 
an evil one, it must be famine, and torment, aj|^ 
heli itse^ la a word, do man hath a good om- 
onmoe, but be who leads a good Ufe. , 

XX. 4>F WAA. 

Hontpellier« 1670. 

At the plague in the body drives all persons ww9f 

%at vaSch mho lii^e by it, searchers, and those who 

«re tabary theix>rpse»who are as ready to strangle 

MuMK who do not die sooa eaoogh, as to bury them $ 

«Dd they who recover are very kmg tried with the 

malignity, and remain longer deserted ,by their 

aeigfabonrs and fnends out of fear of iofection ; so 

war in a state makes all men abandon it but those 

w1m> are to live by the blood' of it, and who have 

4he pillagiog of the lirmg^ as well as of the dead; 

and if it recover, and the- war be extinguished, there 

ceaiains sndi a weakness and paleness, 90 maoy 

I^MStly marks of the distemper, chi^ wen remain 

long frighted from their old familiarity, from the 

eanfidence they fonaeriy had of their own security, 

• and of the JQStice of thatittate,'tbe war leading still 

aa Ui odour behind it, and much infection in the 

. nature and manners of those who are delighted with 

It. Of all th^ pttaisfaments and judgments that the 

fwnked anger of the JMvtne Profideace can pour 


out Qpon'a nation full of tniasgressloiM, there U 
none so terrible and destroying as that of wan 
Dand knew he did wisely when he preferred and 
chose the plague before eithe!^ of. the other judg* 
ments that he was to undergo for numbering the 
people, though it cost him no less than seventy 
thousand subjects; so ?a8t a number that three 
months progress of the most victorious and tri- 
umphant enemy could hardly have consumed ; and 
the one had been as much the hand of the Lord as 
the other, and could as easily have been restrained, 
or bound by his power : the arrow of pestilence was 
shot out of his own bow, and did all its execatio& 
without making the pride or malice of man instru- 
mental in It ; the insolence whereof is a great ag- 
gravation of any judgment that is laid upon us, and 
health is restored in the same moment theconta«- 
gion ceaseth ; whereas in war, the confidence and 
the courage which a victorious army contracts by 
notable -successes, and the dejection of spirit and 
the consternation which a subdued party undergoes 
by frequent defeats, is not at. an end when the war 
is determined, but hath its effects very long after; 
and the tenderness of nature, and the integrity of 
manners, which are driven away, or powerfully dis* 
countenanced by the corruption of war, are not 
quickly recovereid ; but instead thereof a roughness, 
jealousy, and distrust introduced, that makes con- 
versation unpleasant and uneasy ; and the weeds 
which grow up in the shortest war can hardly b^. 
pulled up and extirpated without a long and nnsus- 
peqted peace. When Gckl pleases to send this heavy 
calamity upon us, we cannot avoid it ; but why we 
should be solicitous to embark ounelves in this 

' 6f war. 177 

leaky vessel, why otir own anger, ftnd ambition, and 
emulation, slionld engage as in unreasonable and 
nnlast wars, nay, why, without any of these provo- 
cations, we sinrald be disposed to ran to war^ and 
periciitari perieuii causd, will require lietter reason 
to jasttfy us, than most that are concerned in it are 
famished with. ** Juguiantur homines ne nihil 
agatnr," was the complaint and amazement of a 
philosopher, ii^o knew of none of those restraints 
which Christianity hath laid upon manlcind. That 
men siionld kill one another for want of somewhat 
dse to do (which is the case of 'all volunteers in 
war) seems to be so horrible to humanity, that there 
neeils no divinity to oontnd it. It was a divine con*-, 
templation of the same philosopher, that when 
Providence had so well provided for, and secured 
the peace l>etween nations, by putting the sea be- 
tween, that It might not be in their power to be ill 
neighbours, mankind should be so'mad as to devise 
shipping, to affect death to much sine spe sepultura,- 
and when they are safe on land, to commit them- 
selves' to the waves and the fierce winds, quorum 
J^dtiu est ad bella perferris and that those winds 
which God had created, ad eustodiendam ccsli ter- 
rarumque iemperiemy and to cherish the fruits and 
the trees of the earth, should be made use of so 
contrary to his intentions, vt legianes, equHemque 
gestarent, and bring people (whom he had placed at 
that distance) together, to imbrue their hands in 
each other's blood ; indeed it must be a very savage 
appetite, that engages men to talce so much pains, 
and to tun so many and great hitzards, only to be 
cruel to those whom they are able to oppress. 

I 2 - 

178 LORD clarendon's BS8AT8. 

They who allow no war at all to be lawfiol, haw; 
consulted both nature and religion much better than 
^they who think it may be entered into t6 comply 
with the ambition, coyetousness, or revenge of the 
greatest princes and monarchs upon earth : as if 
God had only inhibited single murders, and left 
o&ankind to be massacred according to the humour 
and appetite of unjust and unreasonable men, -of 
what degree or quality soever. - They who think it 
most unlawful, know well that force may be re- 
pelled with force ; and that no man makes war who 
doth only defend what is his own from m attempt 
of violence ; he who kills another that he may not 
be killed himself by him who attempts it, is not 
guilty of murder by the law of God or man. And 
truly, they who are the cause and authors of auy 
war that can justly and safely be avoided, have great 
reason to fear that they shall be accountable before 
the supreme Judge for all the rapine and devasta- 
tion, all the ruin and damage, as well as the blood, 
that is the consequence of that war. War is a li- 
cence to* kill and slay all those who inhabit that 
'land, which is therefore called the enemy's, because 
he who makes the war hath a mind to possess it ; 
and must there not many of the laws of God^ as 
well as of man, be cancelled and abolished, before a 
man can honestly execute or take such a licence ? 
What have the poor inhabitants of that land done 
that they must be destroyed for cultivating tbeir 
own land, in the country where they were bom ? 
and can any king believe that the names of those are 
left out of the records of God's creation, and that 
the injuries done to them shall not be-considered ? 

OF WAR. ' 179 

> War is a depopulation, defaces all that art and in- 
dustry hath produced, destroys all plantations, 
bams cfaurcfae^aod palaces, and mingles them in 
the same ashes with the cottages of the peasant and 
the labourer; it distinguishes not of age, or sex, or 
dignity, but exposes all things and persons, -saciied 
and profane, to the same contempt and confusion ; 
and reduces all that blessed order and harmdny, 
which hath lieen the product of peace and religion, 
into the chaos it was first in ; as if it would con- 
tend with the Almighty ui uncreating what he so 
wonderfully created, -and since polished. And is it 
not a most detestable thing to open a gap to let this 
wild boar enter into the garden of Christians, and 
to, make all this havoc and devastation' in countries 
planted and watered by the e4ual Redeemer of man- 
kind, and whose ears are open to the com^sdnts of 

** the meanest person who is oppressed? It is no an- 
swer to say that this universal suffering, and even 
the desolation that attends it, are the inevitable 
oonseqtieaces and events ei war, how warrantably 
soever entered into, but rather an argument, that 
BO war can be warrantably entered into, that may 
produce such intolerable misduefs ; at least if the ' 
ground b^ not notorionsly just and necessary, and 
fike to introduce as mudi benefit to the world as 
damage aad inconvenience to a part of it ; and lis 
much care taken as is possible, to suppress that rage 
and licence, which is the wanton cause of half the 

It may be, upon a strict survey and disquisition 
into the elements and inJ.un^ions of Christian re- 
ligion, no war will be found justifiable, but as i^ is 
the process that the law of nature allows and pre- 


scribes fur justice sake, to compel those to abstain 
from doing wrong, or to repair the wrong they h»ve 
done, who can by no other way be induced to 4o 
&ther $ as when one sovereign prince doth an in-** 
jury to another, or suffSers his subjects to do it with- 
ost control or punishment ; in either of which 
cases, the injured prince, in liis own rif^t, or the 
rights of his subject^, is to demand justice lirom the 
other, and to endeairour to obtain it by all the 
peaceable means that can be used ; and then if there 
be an absolute refusal to giire satisfaction, or such a 
delay, as in the inconvenience amounts to a refusal, 
ihere is no remedy left, but the last process, which 
is force $ since nothing caa be in itself more odious, 
or more against the nature and institution of sove- 
reign power, than to do wrong, jmd to refuse to ad^ 
minister justice ; and^ therefore, the oEusciiiels which 
attend, and which cannot but fall upon the persons 
and fortunes of those who are least guilty of the in* 
jury and injustice, because the damage can very 
hardly reach the prince, but in his subjects, will be 
by the supreme Judge cast upon his account who is 
the original cause and author of the first tran8^ess> 
sion. And if it be very difficult to find uiy other 
just cause to warrant so ^vage a prooeediag as all 
war produces, what can we thinlE of most of tiuit 
v^ar which for some hundred of years has infested 
the Christian world, so much to the dishonour of 
Christianity, and in which the lives of more men 
have been lost than might have served to have dnven 
infidelity out of the world, and to have peopled aU 
those parts which yet remain without inhabitants ? 
Can we believe that all those lives are fecgot^en, 
and that no account shall be rendered of them? If 

OF WAE. . 181 

the siiving tht life of .any single person who iit-ia 
danger to perish, hath much, of merit in it, though 
it be a duty incumbent to humanity, witli what 6e-^ 
testation and horror invst we look upon those, who 
upon deliberation are solicitous to bring miUiops of 
men together to no other purpose .than to kill and 
destroy; and they who survive are conducted as 
soon as may be to another butehery, to another op* 
pcRtunxty to ktU more men, whom they know not^ 
and with whom they are^not so much as angry^ 
'JRie gnimmarlans have too much reason to derive 
beUum, a helkas ; all war hath much of the beast in 
it ; nnmane guitUlam et beUuarum aimih ; very much 
of the naam most be put off tliat there may he enough 
of the beast : princes must be obeyed, and because 
tiicJir may have jnst cause of war, their subjects must 
obey and serve them in it, without taking upon them 
to jezamine whether it be just or no, Seroi tua eat 
amtiitio; ratid ad te nihil i they have no liberty to 
doabt wtieo their duty is clear to obey ; but where 
there is none of that obligation, it is wonderful, 
and an mmatnrai appetite that disposes men to be 
soldiers, that they nia^ know how to live, as if the 
undentanding the/s^dvanti^e how to kill most men 
together were a commendaUe science to raise their 
fortune ; $md what reputation soever it may have 
in politics, it can hasrt none in religion, to say, that 
the art and conduct of a soldier is not infused by 
nature, but by study, experience, and observation^; 
and therefore that men are to learn it, in order> to 
serve thdr own prinbe and country, which may be 
assaulted and invaded by a skilful enemy, and hsurdly 
defended by ignorant sod unsktlftil offioars ; when, 
hi troth, the man who conscientioudy weighs this 

182 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

common argument, will find that it Is made by ap- 
petite to excuse, and not by reason to rapport, an 
ill custom ; since the guilt contracted by shedding 
the blood of one single innocent man, is too -dear a 
price to pay for all the skill that is to belearqed in 
that deFOuring profession ; and that all the science 
that Is necesf^ary for a just defence may be attained 
without contracting a guilt, which is like to make the 
defence the more difficult. And we have instances 
Enough of the most brave and effectual defences 
made upon the advantage of innocence, against the • 
boldest, skilful, and injurious aggressor, whose guilt 
often makes his understanding too weak to go 
through an uiijust attempt, against a resolute though 
less experienced defender. . 

It must seem strange to any one,. who considers 
that Christian religion, that is founded upon love, 
and charity, and humility, should not only not ex- 
tinguish this unruly appetite to war, but make the 
prosecution of it the more fierce and cruel; there 
having scarce beea so much rage and inhumanity 
practised in any war, as in that between Christians, 
llie ancient Romans, who for some ages arrived to 
the • greatest perfection in the observation of the 
obligations of honour, justice, and humanity, of all 
men who had no light from religion, i^tituted a 
particular triumph for those their genends who re- 
turned with victory without the slaughter of men. 
It were to be wished, that the modem Christian 
Romans were endued with the same blessed spirit, 
and that they believed that the voice of hkioA is 
loud and importunate ; they would not then think 
it their office and duty, Sb far to kindle this fire- 
bnuid war, and to nourish all occasions to inflame 

OF WAR. 183 

it, as to obstruct and divert all overtures of eztin- 
gaishingit; and to corse and excommunicate all 
those who shall consent or submit to such overtures, 
when they are wearied, tired, and even consumed 
with weltering in each other's blood, and have 
scarce blood enough left to give ttatm strength to 
enjoy the blessings of peace. What can b^ more 
unmerciful, more unworthy of the title of Chris- 
tians, than such an aversion from stopping those is- 
sues of blood, and from binding up those wounds 
which have been bleeding so. long? and yet we 
have seen those inhuman bulls let loose by two 
popes, who would be- thought to have the sole power 
committed to them by Christ, to inform the world 
of his will and pleasure ; the one agsunst the peace 
of Germany, and the other against fhat with the 
L6w Countries; by both which these his vicars 
general absolve all men from observing, it, though 
th6y are bound by their oaths never to swerve from 
it. We may piously believe, that all the princes 
of the world, v/ho have'wantonty, or without just 
and manifest provocation, obliged their subjects 
to serve them in a war, by which millions of men 
have been exposed to slaughter, fire, and famine, 
will soojier find remission of all the other sins they 
have committed, than for that obstinate outrage 
against the life of man, and the murders which hav<i 
been committed by their authority. 



Monomer, ifiTO. 

It was a very proper answer to hlni who asked^ why 
any man shoal^be delighted wijth beauty? 1^ it 
was a question that none but a blind man could ask ; 
since any beautiful object doth so much attract the 
sight of all men, that it is in no man's power not to 
be pleased with it. Nor can any ^aversion or ma- 
lignity towardiB the object, irreconcile the eyes tnm 
looking upon it : as a man who hath an envenomed 
and mortal hatred against another, who ha^ a 
most graceful and beautiful person, cannot hinder 
his eye from being delighted to behold that person ; 
though that delist is far from going to the heart ; 
as no man's malice towards an excellent mnsiciiyi 
can keep his ear from being pleased with his oraeic. 
No man can sisk how or why men come to be .de- 
lighted with peace, but he who is without natural 
bowels, who is deprived of all those alfectibnB, 
which can only make life pleasant to him. Peace 
is Chat harmony in the state, that health Is in the 
body. No honour, no profit, no plenty can make 
him happy, who is sick with a fever in his blood, 
and with deflnctions and aches in his joints and 
bones; but health restored gives a relish to the 
other blessings, and is very merry without them : 
no kingdom can flourish or be at eaSe, in which 
there is no peace ; which only makes men dwell at 
home, and enjoy the labour of their own hands, 
and improve ^ the advantages which the air, and 
the climate, and the soil administers to them ; ^nd 
all which yield no comfort, where there is no peace. 

OF PBAOE. 185 

God himself reckons health the greatest blessing he 
can bestow upon mankind, and peace the greatest 
comfort and ornament he can confer upon states;, 
'which' are a mnltitude of men gathered together. 
They who delight most in war, are so much ashamed 
of it, that they pretend, Pacia gerere negiaium : to 
liave no other end, to desire nothing but peaee, that 
their heart is set upon nothing else. When Cesar 
was engaging all the world in war, he wrote toTuIlyy 
** Neque tntius, neque honestius reperiesquidquam^ 
quam ' ab omni contentione abesse ;" there was 
nothing worthier of an honest man than to have 
contention with nobody. It was the highest zgg^n^ 
Tation that the prophet could find out in the def 
scription of the greatest wickedness, that *' the 
way of peace they knew not ;" and the greatest pu- 
nishnaent of all their crookedness and perverseuess 
was, that ** they should not know peace." A greater 
corse cannot befall the most'wicked nation, than to 
be deprived of peace.- There is nothing of real and 
substantia comfort in this world, but what is the 
product of peace ; and whatsoever we may lawfully 
and innocently tadie delight in, is the fruit and ef- 
fect of peace. The solemn service of God, and per- 
forming our duty to him in the exercise of regular 
devotion, which is the greatest business of our life, 
and iir which we ought to take most delight, is the 
issue of peace. War breaks all that order, inter- . 
ropts all that devotion, and even extinguisheth all 
that zeal, which peace had kindled in us, lays waste 
the dwelling.phice of God as well as of man ; and 
introduces and propagates opinions and practice, as 
much against heaven as against e^th^ and erects a 
deity that delights in nothing but cruelty and blood* 


Are we iileased with the enlarged conaierce anif 
society of large and opulent cities^ or witli the re- 
tired pleasure* of the country ? do we love stateif 
palaces, and noble houses, or take delight in plea^ 
«a&t groves' and woods, or fruitful gardens, which 
teach and' instruct nitture to {>roduce and bring 
forth more fruits, and flowers, and plants, than her 
own xtorexan supply- her with? all this we owe to 
peace ; and the dissolution of this peace disfigures 
idl this beauty, and in a short time covers and 
buries all this order and delist in nimandrublnsh. 
Finally, have we any ooatent, satisfaction, and joy, 
in the conversation of each other, in the knowledge 
and understanding of those arts and sciences, whidi 
more adorn mankind, than all those buildingB and 
plantations do the fields and grounds oo wiuch 
they stand ? even this is the blessed effect and le> 
gacy of peace ; and wm: lays our natures and man- 
tiers as waste as our gardens and our halntatiofis^ 
and we can as easily preserve the beauty of the one, 
as the int<?grity of the other, under the cnrsed 
jurisdiction of dnuns and trumpets. 

'' If it be possible, ^ uuich as lieth in yon, Ihe 
•peaceably with all men," was one of the primitm 
ix^ttctions of Christiambty, Rom. adi. 18, and eon- 
prehends not only particular and private men 
(though no doubt all gentle and peaceable natureB 
are most capable of Christian precepts, and most 
affected with them) but kings and princes them- 
B^ves. St. Paul knew well, that the peaceable in- 
cUnations and dispdsi^ns of subjects could do Jklle 
good, if the sovereign princes were dispoatd to 
vmr% but if they desire to live peaceably wkh their 
neighbours, their aol^ects cannot bnt be h»ffi. 

OF PEACE. 187 

And the pleasure that God himself takes in that 
temper^ needs bo other manifestation, than the 
promise our Savionr osakes to those who contri- 
bute tcMrards it, in his sermon ufion the mount, 
*^ Blessed are the peace-makers, for they shall he 
called the children of God," Matt.' v. 9. Peace must 
needs be very acceptable to him, when the instm- 
ments towards it are crowned with snch a full 
measure of blessing ; and it is no hard matter to 
guess whose children they are, who take all the 
fiains they can to deprive the world of peiice, and 
to 8«bj.eot it to the rage and fury and desolation of 
war. If we had not the woful experience of so 
many hundred years, we should harcUy tlnnk it pdft- 
sible, that men who pretend to embrace the gospel 
of peace, should be so unconcerned in the obliga- 
tion and efiects. ; and when God looks upon it 
as the greatest blessing he can pour down upon the 
heads of those who please him best, and observe his 
commands, ^< I will give peace in the la«d, and ye 
shall lie down; and none shall msdte yon afraid,f* 
Lev. xzvi. 6, that men study nothing more than tfarow-off and deprii^ (hemselves and others 
of tbis his precious bounty ; as if we were void of 
natural reason, ^ well as wiHiout the elements W. 
religion : for nature itself disposes us to a love of 
society, which cannot be preserved without peace. 
A whole city on fire is a< spectacle full of horror, 
but a whole kingdom on fire must be a prospect 
much more tettible ; and such is every kingdom in 
war, where oothing flourishes but rapine, blood, 
and murder, andvthe iiaaes of all men are pale and 
(^tly, out of the sense of what they have done^ 
or of what ^ey havi^ s«flfered| or iw« to ei»d«iicr. 


188 LORD clarendon's essays. 

The reverse of all this is peace, which io a momeiit 
eztlnguishes all that fire, binds up all the woundsy 
aad restores to all faces their natural nvacity and 
beautf. We cannot make a more lively represen- 
tation and Emblem to ourselves of hell, than by the 
view of a kingdom in war; where there is nothing 
to be seen but destruction and fire, and ^e discord 
Itself is a great part of the torment : nor a more 
sensible reflection upon the joys of heaven, than as 
it is all quiet and peace, and where nothing is to 
be discerned but consent and harmoDy, and what is 
ai|[iiable in all the circumstances of it. And as fv 
as we may warrantably judge of the inhabitants of 
dther climate, they who love and cherish discord 
among men, and take delight in war, have kuige 
mansions provided for them, in that region of iac- 
Uon and disagreement ; as we may presume, that 
they who set their hearts upon peace in this world, 
and labour to promote it in their several stations 
amongst all men, and who are instruments to pre- 
vent the breach of it amongst princes and states, 
or to renew it when it is broken, have infallihle 
title to a place and mansion in heaven; where 
there is only peace in that perfection, that all other 
blessings are comprehended, in it, and a part of it. 


On a Fsit-daymt Jentj, 1041. 

The original and ground of the first institution of 
fiistsand solemn days of humiliatiop, was to depre* 
cate God's judgment, and to .remove some heavy 
afllictions either actually brought upon or imme- 
diately threatened by him upon that people; and 


in order thereunto to make a faithful iDqnisitioii 
into all sins, and to enter into a covenant agsunst 
those which seem to be most cordially embraced 
by usy and consequently the most likely causes of 
the present calamities we groan under: so that 
though every act of devotion- should raise in us a 
detestation of all sins whatsoever, yet as a particular 
fast is commonly for the removal of a particular 
judgment, so the devotion of that day will not be 
too moch circumscribed and limited, if it be intent 
upon the inquisition into the nature and mischief 
of one particular sin, and in the endeavour to raise 
up some fence and fortification that that sin may 
not break in upon us; especially if it be such a 
one, as dtherour own inclinations, or the iniquity 
and temper of thetime in which we live, is like to 
invite us to. If the business of our fasts be oniy to 
inveigh and pray against the sins we are least in« 
dined to, we make them indeed days of triumph 
over other men's wickedness, not of humiliation for 
tmr own ; and arraign them, not prostrate ourselves 
before God. If the parliament's fast-days had been 
celebrated with a due and ingenuous disquisition of 
the nature and odionsness of hypocrisy, rebellion, 
and profaneness, instead of discourses against 
popery, tyranny, and superstition;' which, though 
they are grievous sins, were not yet the sins of those 
congregations ; and if thefast-days obser\'ed by the 
king's party had been spent in prayer for, and sin- 
cere study of temperance, justice, and patience in 
adversity, of the practical duties of a Christian, of 
the obligations of conscience to constancy and per- 
severance in our duty, and of the shame and dis- 
honesty and impiety of redeeming our fortunes or 


Ikes with the breach of ovr conscienee, instead of ^ 
aifganientft against takmg up arms against lawful 
authority, sedition, and schism ; which, though 
dKy are enormous crimes, wa« not yet the crimes 
of those congregations ; hoth parties without doubt 
would not hare been as constant to their own 
sins as to their fasts; as if all their devotions 
had been to eonfirm them, in what they Imd done 
amiss, and im the end to shalce haoiis in the same . 
sins, and detemmie all further dispute of oaths, by 
an union inpeijury, a general talking the covenant, 
and to extinguish rebellion by an uniTersal submis- 
inon, and guMt in sacrilege. 

\ have- not yet met with any man so hardy as to 
-deny that sacrilege is a sin ; or to aver that, being 
a sifi, a man may be guilty of it for any worldly 
consideration or advantage whatsoever; and yet, ^ 
as if there were qo such thing in uature, or as if it 
were only a term of art to perplex men in debates, 
men of all tempers, and scarce reconcileable in any 
other conclusion or design, are very frankly and 
lairingly united in this mystery of iniquity : which I 
cannot be so uncharitable as to believe proceeds 
from a vicious habit of the mind, hut an inad- 
vertency and incogitancy of the nature and conse- 
quence of the sin itself. It would not otherwise 
be, that< a thing that hath been so odious from the 
beginning of the world amongst all brave nations, 
^o have been endued but with the light of na- 
ture, and have made any pretence to virtue, that 
they could not fix a brand of more infEuny upon the 
most exorbitant person in the practice of idl vice, 
than to call him a sacrilegious person, should be i 
BOW held of so:little moment amongst Christiaesf ^ 

OF SACftlLBGB. 191 

and that wfaen<^all things dedicated and aepamted 
for holy uses have been always aecounted and re* 
pated 8o saered by jnes of all rdigions, or pre^' 
teudevs to- religion, tiiat where any violation hath 
been ofiered to the temples of any gods> when a 
coontry hsrth been pronounced to be destroyed with 
fir» and sword^ and all cruelty practised by order 
against all ages and sexes, the general of thoae af'* 
mies has, by his sacrilege, lost the reward of his 
other conquests, and been pnnished with infomy 
and dishonour by those who have enjoyed the be- 
nefit of his victory, though they served not those 
Godsi« or aecounted them such whom he had 
spoiled : as we find frequent eseamples in the Bo- 
v^n storyj who, besides that justice upon those 
accidents, celebrated some devotions to abscHve 
their state from the guilt, and ordered reparation 
and restitution to be made to those deities which 
had been robbed and profaned ; yet after sixteen 
hundred years study and profession of Christianity, 
those horrible crimes should pass by. us, and. we 
pass tbrongb them, not only without the least com- 
punction of conscience, but without the least blush 
or apprehension of a fault. '* WiU a man. rob 
Gk>d?" says the prophet Malachi, ch. iii* B, none 
will be so impudently wiclied to say he will$ 
'' Yet ye have robbed me : but ye say, v^reiahave 
we robbed thee ?" " la tithes and oflferings," says 
the same spirit. Pretend what you will to re- 
verence, and fiear of God, if you take away wiiat is 
consecrated, what is dedicated to him, you do no 
better, than rob God himself; and rob him with all 
those circumstances which most ofiend and grieve 
him, Ti^mdlius renders it ''spoliatis me," but 


the TQlgar hath it " configitis me," which is worse )* 
spoiling a man, supposes some great act of violence 
in the circumstance, but a man that is spcnled may 
be yet left at liberty to shift for himselfy and may 
fiad relief again by others; bnt '^configttis me," 
yon have not been content to rob and to spoil me; 
but yon have nailed me, you have bound me fast, 
that I cannot stir to keep myself, nor to go to 
olliers to help me. He that . commits sacrilege, 
hath done the best he can 'to bind God so fiist, to 
pat him in that condition, that nobody should serve 
bim ; and therefore amongst the Jews, he that was 
guilty of it was thought to offend Ood prknarh, , 
and to sin agunst the first table ; whereas, as other 
thefts or robberies were but offences against the 
second table, they spoiled not God himself-: and we 
cannot thinlc reasonably that this was a sin only 
under the law, and is none under the goapd. If 
th^re bad been no such thing in nature, St. Paul 
wvtire would never have reproached the Romans with 
their hypocrisy, in pretending to abhor idolatry, 
and yet committing sacrilege. And that argumenta- 
tion by interrogating is very observable, as if 
idolatry and sacrilege were one and the same sin; 
^' Tliou that preachest a man should not steal, dost 
thou steal? Thou that sayest a man should not 
commit adultery, dost thou commit adultery? 
Thou that abhorrest idols, dost thou commit sa- 
crilege ?'* '< Non multum distat," says the learned 
Orotius, " falsoB Deos colere, et veruni spoliare ;^ 
there is very littlje difierence between adoring false 
gods, and robbing the true God. And that the 
robbing and defrauding the church is this very sa* 
crilege condemned, appears eridently by that saying 

. OF SACRItEGB. 193 

of the town-clerk in the Acts, " Ye hftve bronght 
hither these men, which are neither robbers of 
cfaorcheSy nor yet blasphemers of your goddess/' 
Acts xix. 37. Where the same word is used in the 
original {UpoavKw) which St. . Paul uses to the 
Roinane^ which is no where applied to any other 
robbers throughout the Scripture. If it were pos- 
sible that men who have no piety should have any 
justice, even that alone, without the other, would 
give a rule in this point : vnth what justice can 
that, which the goodness and bounty of our an- 
cestors have directed to our use, be taken away, 
and applied to another, nay, to such a one as we 
are morally sure is a use the founders or donors 
would never have given the same ? I doubt not, 
but there ma>^be a supposition of such uses as may 
not be agreeable to the policy and p^ace of the 
«tate, but then the act itself is void, and no such 
grant can be made ; or, if the policy of succeeding 
times find that use (being a civil use) inconvenient 
to the present temper, and so abrogate it, it will 
be still as if there were no donation, and the. thing 
given must revert to his use, whose it would na- 
turally have been if there had been none such. 
Neither can laws in those casea alter the matter of 
right and justice; it may render me more potent 
to. do hurt and injury, by making that damage and 
injury unpenal to me ; it cannot make the thing I 
do just, or lessen my guilt before God ; I speak of 
<4hing8 evil in themselves, as all things are which 
God himself hath expressly inlubited to be done $ 
and therefore, if there were an act of parliament, 
which authorized the stronger to rob^or kill the 
weaker, I do not think any man will say, that U 



feM murder or theft before God, than if there were 
tto snch act ; and, I confess, I cannot apprebend 
ho^ spdling or defrauding the chnrch can be less 
sacrilege, by what authority soever men are qnali- 
fied to commit it. 

Bttt if we examine this a little fiscrther, we sliall 
find, that thongh no man (as 1 said before) denied 
sacrilege to be a sin, yet very many deny that to he 
sacrilege which hatli been commonly accounted sa- 
crilege : they do not, or seem not to l>eUev^, tbat 
it 4s the same sin in the gospel that it was in the 
law ; at least, that things do not l)ecome de^Bcated 
in the same manner to God under the gospel, as 
they did under the law ; 1>ecause, as to a gift there 
is always to be a receiver as well as a river, so there 
Is not evidence under the gospel, that God doth ac- 
cept and receive what is given, as there was under 
tTO law, and therefore that it cannot be sacrilege : 
they are contented that shall be sacrilege as it is ec? 
Idesiastical robbery ; and that as it is felony to steal a 
|K)t out of a common house, so it slum he sacrilege to 
Steal the chalice out of the chnrch, and are willing 
that they shall be equally punished for It ; but they 
ti!te not all satisfied to allow that distinction, or that 
there is any difreren6e of places now : and they are in 
truth the more ingenuous of the two, and they win 
hest define the committing of sacrilege, who do re*- 
Ject all difference and distinction of persons and 
places ; tod so t^either leave God himself a capacity 
of being robbed, nor suffer those who dfdm under 
faim, by Serring at his altar, or his church, to have 
a propriety in any thing, of which they may not be 
deprived for the conveniency of a great man, or 
bf the state In which they live. But these men omy 


xemembery that they g^ve do better, or indeed otker 
reaaoDS for this their bold a^sertioo, than their 
progenitors the heathens did, when they were pos- 
sessed with their spirit, to contradict a definition 
of sacrilege, current in all. times, as agreeable to 
the law of nature : '' Quisquis id quod Deorum est 
sustulit et conpumpsit, atque in usum suum Fertit, , 
sacril^gus est :" they thought they refelled this pro- 
position very substantially when they denied this to 
be 'Sacrilege, because of the universal power an^. 
dominion the gods had over all things and places, 
" Quia quicquid sublatnm est es eo loco, qui Deo- 
nun erat, in enm transfertur locum qui Deorum ■ 
est." Nor need there -be another answer given to 
them than the philosopher, who I doubt was a bet- 
ter divine than many of their teachers, then gave, 
*' Omnia qnidem Deorum esse, sed uon omnia Diia 
dicata ;" and he convinced them by an argument 
very like tl^^ir own, that all the world was the tem- 
ple of the immortal gods, ('* Solum quidem ampU- 
tadine illorum ac magnificentili. dignum ;) et tamen 
a sacris profana decerni, et non omnia licere in 
angulo, cui nomen fani impositus est, qua sub ccelo 
et conspectu siderum licent ;" many things may be^ ^ 
done in other places which are neither fit or lawful 
to be done in churches, or places dedicated to 6od*a 
service. .The most sacrilegious person cannot do 
any injury to God, " Qnem extra ictum sua divi- 
nitas posuit, sed tamen punitur quia tanquam Deo 
fecit." If this were not known to be Seneca's, it 
might be wel^ owned by those casuists who are to 
dispute with these men ; who yet, it may be, will 
rather choose to be converted by the philosopher, 
as it is the dictate of natural reason, without the 

196 LORD clarendon's ESSAYS. 

authority of the church. And it can never be 
enough lamented, that after places have been set 
aside in ail nations, from the time' of which we 
have any records, and assigned for the peculiar ser- 
vice and worship of that divinity that was there 
acknowledged ; and after so much pious 'care for 
the hiiilding of churches to that end, from the time 
that Christianity hath had any authority in the 
world; that the Christian clergy owned and ac- 
knowledged under that appellation, and who, ac- 
cording to the judgment of a leanied man, I think, 
as any age hath brought (Mr. Mede) can derive 
their descent from the apostles themselves; that 
is, from those for whom their Lord and Master 
prayed unto his Father, (John xrii. 17.) ** Sanc- 
tify them (Father) unto or for thy truth : thy word 
18 truth ;" that is, saith he, separate them unto 
the ministry of thy truth : I say, it is matter of 
great lamentation, that these places and these per- 
sons should now be esteemed so common^ and of so 
little regard, and to be looked upon as' the only 
places and persbns to which an injury cannot' b(; 
done, or to whom an affront or indignity cannot be 
committed. And it is a very weighty obseryation 
by the said Mr. Mede (who never received tithes or 
offerings, and was too, little known in the church 
whilst he lived,) that they are in a great error, who 
rank sacrilege as a sin against the eighth com- 
mandment ; for though he that commits sacrilege, 
indirectly and by consequence-robs men too, namely, 
those who should live upon God's provision, yet, 
as sacrilege, it is a hin of<the>flr&t table, and not of 
the second, a breach of the loyklty we immediately 
owe to God, and not of the duty we owe toonr 


lieigfabour ; and then he cites the text mentioned 
before in Malachi, ''Will a man rob God,"^ &c. 
And truly, methinks, there is too much said in the 
New Testament against this sin, to leave it in the 
power of any man to imagine, that what is said in 
the Old is abrogated. 

No man must* imagine that this monstrous siil is 
contracted to, or in any one climate or region, and 
affected only by those of any one religion; it is 
equally spread amongst all nations, and more prac- 
tised and countenanced amongst those of the catho- 
lic, than of the reformed religion; at least was first 
introduced and practised by them, before it was by 
these. Emperors and kings dontrive and permit it i 
and popes themselves no otherwise contradict it, 
than that they would not have it committed with- 
out their special license and dispensation ; by which 
It was first planted in England, and as warrantably 
propagated afterwards by him, who had as much 
authority to do it himself, as with the consent of the 
pope. They who know how many abbeys, and other 
ecclesiastical promotions, are at present posseiSsed 
by. laymen, and what pensions are daily granted 
upon bishoprics, and other revenues of the church, 
to laymen* and other secular uses, throughout the 
catholic dominions of Germany, Italy, France, and 
Spain, wiU )^her wonder that there is so fair re- 
venues yet left -to the church in protestant coun- 
tries, than that so much hath been taken away ; 
which for the most part was done in cathoUc 
times, and by catholic authority : and it is a won- 
derful thing how little hath been said in tlye one 
church or the other, in justification or excuse of 
what hath been so much practised in both ; and 



they who Jiave attempted it 'haye done it so ob- 
dcnrely, upon such suppositions, and >vith such re- 
servations and distinctions, as if they endeavoured 
to find out or contrive a more warrantable aod de- 
cent way to do that which ought not to be done at 
all ; and what they allow proves to be tis unlawful 
by their own rules, as what they condemn ; which 
falls out very often to be the case in the writings of 
the school-men, and amongst the modern casuists. 
And it may be, they who are most conscientiously 
troubled and afflicted with the sense of the sin, and 
the punishment that must reasonably attend it, and 
to see so many_ noble and great families involved 
insensibly under a guilt, that is already in some 
degree punis-hed, in their posterities degenerating 
from the virtue of their ancestors, and their noble 
blood corrupted with the most abject and vulgar 
affections and condescensions ; I say, these good 
men are not enough affected, to search and find 
out eispedients and cures, to redeem these trans- 
gression s^ and to wipe out the guilt from those 
who do heartily desire to expiate for the errors , 
and faults of their forefathers. Many men are ifl- 
volved in sacrilege without their privity or consent, 
by inheritances and descents ; and it may be, have 
made purchases very innocently of lands which 
they never knew. had been dedicated to the church : 
and it cannot reasonably be imagined that either of 
these, especially if they have no' other estatos, or 
very little, but what are marked with the 'same 
brand, will, out of the conscience of their great*- 
grandfathei^s impiety, ransom themselves from a 
leprosy which is not discernible, by giving away all 
they have ; and which by established laws ai*e as m^ 


^estionably their own, as any thing can be made 
to belong to any man : but they will rather leave 
their ancestors to pay their own forfeitures, and be 
very indulgent to those arguments which would 
persuade them, that what was sacrilege a hundred 
years since, is so purged away in so many descents 
that it ceases to be so in the present possessor : 
however, he will never file away the stain that may 
yet remain in, his skin, with an instrument that 
will open all his veins, till his ' very heart's blood 
issue and be drawn out. . Nor can it be expected 
that he who hath innocently and lawfully purchased 
what was innocently and lawfully to be sold,' be- 
cause he finds afterwards that those lauds had so 
many years since belonged to some religious house ; 
which if he had known he would not have bought, 
will therefore lose his money, and leave the land to 
him, whose conscience will give him leave to take 
it ; for though he might innocently, because ig- 
norantly, buy it, he cannot after his discovery sell 
it with th« same innocence ; but he will choose a 
lawyer rather than a bishop for his confessor, and 
satisfy himself with that title which he, is sure can 
be defended. ' In a word, he must depart too much 
from his natural understanding, who believes it 
probable, that all that hath been. taken from the 
church in fi)rmer ages, will be restored to it in this 
or those which shall snca>ed, to the riiin of those 
many thousand families which enjoy-the alienations, 
though they do not think that it was at first with 
justice and piety aliened ; but will satbfy them- 
selves with the possession, and by degrees believe^ 
that since it must not be restored to those uses and 
ends, to which it was. at first dedicated and devoted. 

300 LORD clarendon's B85AVS. 

it may be as justly enjoyed by them with tbdr 
other title^ as by any other persons to whom it 
maybe assigned. Whereas; if learned, prudent, 
and conscientious men, upon a serious deliberation 
and reflection of the great mercy of God, and that 
under the law he both permitted and prescribed 
expedients to expiate for trespasses and offences, 
which^ by inadvertency and without malice, men 
frequently run into, and therefore that it may be 
]^ously hoped, that in a transgression of this na- 
ture, he will not be rigorously disposed to exact the 
utmost farthing from the heirs of the transgressors, 
who, with the authority of the government under 
which they lived, and in many cases with the con- 
sent and resignation of those in whom the interest 
was fully invested, became unwarily owners of what 
in truth, in a manner, was taken from God hinis«df ; 
I say, if such men, upon such and other recollec- 
tions which might occur tO them, would advise a 
reasonable method, in which they who are possess- 
ed of estates and fortunes of that kind, may well 
assign a proportion of what they enjoy to such pious 
and charitable uses, as may probably do as mudi 
good as those estates did when they were in thdr 
possession from whom they were taken, and yet 
not deprive the owners of more than they may 
without great damage part with. It is very pos- 
sible, that veiy many, out of the observation of the 
misfortunes which have often befallen the posterity 
of those who have been eminently enriched by those 
sacred spoils, and it may be out of some. casual re- 
flections and reluctancy which now and then may 
interrupt the most cheerful divertisements, would 
dedicate somewhat of what they ei^oy, towards the 


i^paration of what charity hath for a long time 
suffered ; and by this means the- poor bishoprics^ 
which cannot support the digdity of the function, 
may. be better endowed, poor vicarages comfortably 
cmppUed/aQd other, charitable y^orks performed in 
the education 'of poor, cbildrefn, and the like. • And 
they who' thus .contribute, out of the freedom 
an<l bounty of their own natures, will find a se- 
renity of mind that will. please them,, and make 
them believe that tiie rest will prosper the better^ 
and that, tfae^r have more left than they enjoyed be- 
fore ; and ^when the matter hath . been well and 
discrefltly weighed, and good mediums instilled into 
the minds of men, by conference and conversation^ 
the method and prescription will be most power- 
fully given by the liberality and example of those 
who- are wrought upon by the other, or by their 
own contemplation. 

It is observable, that in these violent and furious 
attempts against the charch, albeit his majesty hath 
always publicly declared, that his not complying 
with them in that particular, (the doing whereof 
many have supposed would have procured him his 
desires in all other particulars) proceeds purely 
from matter of conscience, and principally from 
the conclusion, that what they desire is sacrilege ; 
there* hath. been no application to his person, nor 
any sober aliimadversion in writing, to inform b^s 
judgment that it is not sacrilege^ but only mnne al- 
legations of former times, it may be too faulty in 
that particular, and the authority of that council 
which think they have power to compel him to con- 
sent to it, whether it be sacrilege or not; nor hath 
that assembly of divines, who have so frankly given 


their consent to the destruction of that church to 
which they had formerly subscribed, and who nre 
so ready to apply satisfaction to the consciences of 
men in many thingps which are enjoined agpadnst the 
light of their own, yet presum^ to publish any 
thing to inform the minds of men in this argument. 
So that there being so litde said for it, how much 
soever is done, a man cannot so easily enlarge his 
thoughts in a idisquitStion agiunst it ; but had best 
enlarge his heart by prayer, that tlie torrent of 
worldly power, or temptation of profit, may neither 
orerwhelm nOr corrupt him, to what his conscience, 
reason, or understanding, can never otherwise be 


I. Of Haoum Nature 5 

II. . . Life • . . . T 

III. . • ReAectioni npomthe Happineu whijid^' 

we may e^}oy, in and fxom ourselvet IT 

lY. .. Impudent Delight in. Widudnem . . 99 

Y. . • Diunkenness • • 4S 

YI. . . Envy fi5 

YII. . . Pride ........ ^. .. 58 

YIII. . . Anger' 69 

IX. . . Patience in Adyeriity ...... 78 

Z. . . Caattms^ of Deatb, and the best pro- 
viding for it ... 88 

XI. ^ • Friendship 05 

~ XII. • . Counsd and Convenation . . . . 109 

XIII. . . Promises . 115 

XIY. . . Liberty ISO 

XY. . . Industry 1S6 

XYI. . . SiekneMi li» 

•XYII. . . Patience '.....*... . . 131 

XYIII. . . Repentance . ISS 

XIX. • • Consdeoce ..169 

XX. . . War . .^ .... 175 

XXI. . . Peace ' .... 184 

XXU. . . Sacrilege . . 188 



T. Davison, Printer, Whitefriars. 

• » « ■ 

• « » 

• • • 
f • 

■ r 







L.- ' 



r • -^ • • • 

• • B • t ' 

I 1 





o * 



The matter of yovir prayse 

Tlowes in upon me; and I cannot rayse 
A banke against it : nothing, but the round 
Large claspe of nature, such a mt can bound: 
Monaxdi in letters ! 

Ben Jonson to Seiden. 

Printed by T. Datis&m, 



NOTHING can be more interesting than this little book> 
containing a lively picture of the opinions and conversation 
of one of the most eminent scholars and most distinguished 
patriots England has produced, living ^t a period the most 
eventAil of our history : there are few volumes of its size 
so pregnant with sense, combined with the most profound 
learning : it is impossible to open it, without finding some 
important fact or discussion, something pra<;tically useful 
and applicable to the business of life : it may be said of it, 
as of that exquisite little manual, lord Bacon's Essays, 
** after the twentieth perusal one seldom fails to remark in 
it something overlooked before.'* 

l>r. Wilkins, the editor of Selden's works, has attempted 
to discredit the authenticity of the * Table Talk,' upon the 
ground of its containing many things unworthy of a man of 
Selden's erudition, and at variance with his principles and 
practice : but this objection is far from conclusive, and the 
compilation has such a complete and unaflbcted air of 
genuineness, that we have no hesitation in giving credit to 
the assertion of Richard Milward, Selden's amanuensis^ who 
says tfiat it was faithfully committed to writing, from time 
to time, during the long period of twenty years, in which 
he enjoyed the opportunity of daily hearing his discourse, 
and of recording the excellent things that usually fell from 
him: he appeals to the executors and friends of Selden, 
that such was the usual manner of his patron's conversa- 
tion; and this dedicatory appeal to them is no slight testi- 
monial of the veracity of his assertion. 

It is true, that the familiar, and sometimes eoarse man^ 
Bcr in which many of the sutjects discussed are illustrated. 


is not such at mi^t have been expected from • profound 
•diolar ; but Selden, with all hia learning* wai » num of the 
world, famiUar with the ordinary scenes of common life, 
and knew how to bring abstruse sutjeets -home to the busi- 
ness and bosoms of men of ordinary caj;>acity, in a manner 
at once perspicuous and agreeable. 

It is remarkable, that the style of Selden, in those Eng- 
lish compositions published during his life, appears harsh 
and obscure; but lord Clarendon, who knew him well, tells 
us, '* that he was a dear discourser, and possessed the &- 
culty of making difficult things easy, and presenting them 
dearly to the understanding." This faculty is every where 
apparent in the following pages, whidi are replete with the 
firuits of his varied and extensive erudition, illastnted in 
the most plain, and sometimes in the happiest manner, by 
familiar parallels, without pedantry, and without pce(en> 
sion. In preparing the present edition tat the press* the 
text of the first edition, printed in 4to. London, 1668, mi- 
der the care of Richard Mllward, has been scrupulously 
followed, the orthography alone having been reformed. 

Selden was bom at Salvington, an obscure village on the 
coast of Sussex, near Terring, and not far ftom Worthing, 
ofi the 1 6th of December, 15H^i : his father was a substantial 
yeoman, and had very much bettered his condition by mar- 
riage with^the only daughter of Thomas Baker, of Radi- 
ington, docended fh>m an andent and knightly family of 
that name : it was his skill in music which obtained him 
his wife, who was mother to this " great dictator of learn- 
ing,' and glory of the English nation.'* Sdden received the 
rudiments of .eduottion a^ the free echoed of Chichester, and 
was from thence, at the ageof sixteen, sent to the univerdty 
of Oxford, and entered of Hart Hall, under the tuition of 
Anthony Barker, a relation of his master at Chidiester 
school. His progress at college was more than usually 
rapid; and he left it with a hi^ reputation in about four 
years, to pursue the study of the law in the Inner Temple, 
where he was admitted in May, l604. He became so sedu- 
lous a student, and his profideney so wdl known* that he 
was soon in very extoQdve practice as a diamber oonasd ; 
but he does not seem to have appeared frequently at the 
bar. Hit devotion to his pntfeiaion did not pnrcBt Urn 


firom punuing his literary occupations with assiduity $ and, 
at the early age of twenty>two, he had completed his ' Dis- 
sertation on the Civil GovemmeBt of Britain before the 
Norman C<mquest.'* 

This work is an ast<mishing performance, considering tlie 
age at which it was composed. In 1 610, we find him pursuing 
the same course of study, the fhtits of which were^given to 
the world, under the titles of * Jani Anglorum Facies Al- 
ten/ ' England's Epinomis,' and * The Duello, or Single 
Combat.' These publicatiims were in a measure connected 
witti the studies incident to his profession ; but in l6l9, was 
put forth his elaborate and interesting commentary on the 
first twelve books of the Polyolbion ; he must, therefore, 
have been indefatigable in his pursuit of knowledge through 
every diannel, and in all its various ramifications. His in- 
tense appUcati(Hi appears to have very materially injured 
his health ; for in the dedication of his * Titles of Honour,' 
published In j614, to his friend, Mr. Edward Hey ward, he 
says, " Some year since it was finished, wanting only, in 
some parts, my last hand— which was then prevented by my 
dangerous and tedious sicknesse." From this attack he re- 
covered, by the skill and care of Dr. Robert Floyd, return* 
ing to his studies with hesh sest, and renewed vigour ; 
" and thus," says he, " I employed the breathing times 
which, from the so diflbrent studies of my profession, were 
allowed me: nor hath the proverbial assertion, < that the 
lady Common Law must lie alone,' ever wrought with me." 
His fame now rang through Europe, and his books were se- 
oeived and read with avidity. In the year l6l7» was pro- 
duced that extraordinary and profoundly erudite treatise on 
the Duties of the Ancient Syrians,* which he ** intended 
as a commentary on all the passages of the Old Testament 
relatii^ to the idols of the heathens, and discussing, there- 

• This was not pubUsh^ until l6l5, when it was printed 
at Fxankfortj under ^e title of * Analectcun Anglo. Britan- 

t « De Diis Syrb, Syntagmata Duo. London, l6l7** 


fore, not only the Syrian, but the Arabian, Egyptian, Per- 
sian, African, and European idolatry.** 

His • History of Tithes' was published in 16I8, in which 
he seemed to combat the divine right of the church to them, 
and, consequently, gave great ofltenoe to the clergy, and in- 
curred the displeasure of king James. He was admitted, at 
the intercession of his friend Ben Jonson, to explain him- 
self to the king in person, and seenied to have conciliated 
him } but in a very short time he was cited before the high 
commission court, his book was prohibited, he was enjoined 
to declare his contrition for having written it, and forbid to 
reply to any of those who might write against it, upon pain 
of imprisonment. The king pointed out to him many ob- 
jectionable passages, particularly one which seemed to throw 
a doubt upon the day of the birth of Christ ; he therefore 
composed a short treatise upon that sul|)ect, and presented 
it to the king on Christmas day.* 

In the preface to his ' History of Tithes,' he reproaches 
the clergy with ignorance and lasiness, and upbraids them 
with having nothing to keep up their credit, but beard, title, 
and habit; and that their studies reached no farther than the 
breviwy, the postills, and polyanthea: this was enough to. 
draw down their indignation upon him, and he was conse- 
quently vehemently attacked. Wood says, that « the usage 
he met with sunk so deep into his stomach, that he did never 
after afikct tlie bishops and clergy, or cordially approve tfadr 
calling, though many ways were tried to gain him to the 
dxurch's interest." He had certainly a great contempt for 
the ignorant and fanatic among the clergy of his day— and 
did not scruple to express it openly : indeed it appears he was 
of opinion that the state should invariably keep a rein on 

* This treatise does not appear to have been printed du- 
ring Selden's life, but was published in 1661, under the fol- 
lowing title, ' eEANePfiXIOZ, or, Qod made Man ; pro- 
ving the Nativity of our Saviour to be on the esth of De- 
cember. London ; printed by J. 6. for Nathaniel Brooks, 
at the Angel, in Comhill, l60l,' 8vo. with a wretehed po^ 
trait of Selden prefixed, engraved by I. Chantry. 

• • 


the -diuKh ; yet he was partial to the episcopal fonn of wor- 
ship-. Though not orthodoxicid in his opinions, he was *' a 
lesolved serious Christian," as sir Matthew Hale told BaX" 
ter, " a great enemy to Hobbes's errors, and that he had 
seal him openly oppose Hobbes so earnestly as either to 
depart from 'him or drive him Arom the room.^ 

In the year ]6?l, James asserted, in one of his speeches, 
that the privileges of parliament yrgm original grants ttom 
the crown. Upon this occasion, Setden was consulted both 
by the lords and the commons ; and in the opinion which ' 
he delivered, though he wholly denied the point in ques> 
tion, yet with thfe strictest int^prity he did ample justice to 
the prerogative of the crown. 

The protest made by the commons,, on this occasion, was 

attributed to him, and the vengeance of the court followed. 

^Ue was imprisoned by an order in council of the l6th of 

June, which directed, ** that no person should be snfltered 

to speak with him ; nor should word, message, or writing 

be received by him ; and that a gentleman of trust should 

be appointed to remain with him." The letter which he 

addressed to sir George Calvert, one of the secretaries of 

state, upon this occasion, is remarkable for the cool firmness 

which it exhibits. After being kept In confinement for five 

weeks, he was liberated, at the intercession of lord keeper 

Williams. It was during this imprisonment that he pre^ 

. pared for the press the curious historical work of Eadmer, 

a Saxon monkish writer, and illustrated it with very learned 

notes : upon its publication, he dedicated it in gratATal terms 

to the lord keeper, thanking him for having been the cause 

of his liberation. 

• From this time he seems to have taken a more active part 
in the great political events of the period. In iGiS he was 
ret'iurned member for Lancaster, and in the first two years 
of the reign of Charles I. for Great Bedwin, in Wiltshire. 
He was one of the committee for forming articles of im- 
peachment against the duke of Buckingham, and was ap^ 
pointed one of the managers at his proposed trial. He was 
one of the firmest and most distinguished opposers of the 
unconstitutional measure of levying money on the author 
rity of the prerogative ; and pleaded for Hampden, who had 
bem imprisoned for reflising to pay the ship-mcmey. It 



WM Bovllnt hU oKNMitioa to the flocriiptfaMift of Ch« govvnu 
aieiittoolL»deoidadfana; and, oa alllayoftaat liiteuarioiu 
in parliament* ha waa lookad up to» and liatanad to, with 
^ greateit veTacenee. In eonaaqueneeof the wdght of hia 
apiniott with tba houfa» and ttie influenoaof hiaapaoabeaon 
their dedsiona, tha go^amincnt Ibund it ezpedioBt to take 
maaaurea to praTent hia attcndanea ; and, in cooaaquenoe, a 
charge of having nttetfad laditionaexpiaMionawai prefcnrcd 
^ahut him. and ha una committad to ttia Toivar in Mardi, 
itfsa. Whan ha had haan impriaonad wKne nwmttia, it mu 
I^K^ioted that ha riiould be diidiarged, on giving aeeiurity 
for his future good condoct; hut this he would not acoede 
to, and was therefore removed to the King's Benehpriaoia. A 
pnaecution in .the star chandler was soon after oonuneBced 
againsthimfor thepubtioationof anaUagadiibel: thiawaa 
a work written by sir Robert Dudley, in thaiaign of James, 
Wider the title of < A Proposition for his M^esty'a Service, 
' to bridle the inyertinenoe of Parliaments/ By die fkvour 
of some powerful firienda, his imprisonment was commuted 
for a nominal confinement in the Oatafaousa, Westndnsler, 
which enabled him to retire into the country for about 
three months ; he was then again committed to the KiQg^ 
Bench, and rmnained there until May, l6s], idian he iNa 
admitted to bail* and continued to be bailed, from teim to 
term, till July, l6S4, when he was finally discharged witl^ 
out trial, having repeatedly pressed for a writ c{ Habaaa 
Corpus without aObct. During tlii^ period, the flraits of hia 
literary oocupationa ware four very learned treatiaaa on Abh 
aient Jewish Law. - 

The writers of the opposite party ,^ though they do not 
dare qpenly attack a diancter like that of Selden, which is 
invulnerable to the stings of malice, yet they insinuate thai 
he was a rebel, and that he for some time-auppreMod hia 
invaluable and odebrated treatise, < Mare Clausum, sen da 
Dominio Maris,' out of pique for the aflhmts and peneen- 
tions he had suffered at the hands of government. There 
does not appear to be any foimdation for this assertion ; as, 
before he was discharged, he took an active part in tiha 
management of the masque presented by the inns of eourt 
before the king and queen on Candlemoa night, iflSS; thus 
paying an agreeable complimant to then> and rmmtananriag 


the king agalMC the calumnies of the fiuiaticBl Frynne, who 
had fUfaAinated, In his Hisfcriomastix, against all dramatic 
representations, and had particularly inveighed against court 
maeques and revelry : this was the more marked, as Prynne 
was m ifieBt favourite with his party. In the year l6S5, he 
published, at the king's express desire, his < Mare Clausum,* 
written many years before in answer to Grotius, who, in 
hie ' Mare Liberum,' had contended for the right of the 
Dut^ to trade to the Indies, and to flsh in the British 
seas. So important was the work esteemed to the interests 
of tiie kingdom, that " Sir William Beecher, one of the 
clerks of the council, was sent with a copy of it to the barons 
of the exchequer, in the open court, that it might be by 
them laid up as a most inestimable jewel among the choice 
^records which concerned thecrown.** The court now looked 
ni>oii him, •« as a person worth the gaining ;" he was, firom 
this time, a firequoitand welcome guest at Lambethrhouse ; 
and it was then generally believed that he might have 
chosen his own preferment in the state, had not his politi- 
cal opinions and practice remained inflexibly undumged. 

In the parliaments of 1640-1, he represented the Univer- 
sity of Oxford, and was among the most distinguished of 
those in opposition to the court : he joined In the measures 
for the prosecution of the earl of StrafiTord and archbishop 
Laud. For this last part of his conduct he has been Cen- 
sured by some of his biographers, as disdaining the ties of 
private gratitude : it is true,~he had been in habits of inti- 
macy with the prelate ; but whatwere the obligations he had 
received Arom him, that should make him forget what he 
considered his duty to his country, ve are not told. 

In l6i/2^ Charles wished to have made Selden lord chan- 
cellor, but he declined it upon the plea of ill health. This 
overture created a suspicion that be might be tampering 
with the royal party, and he was even accused of being 
privy to the design of Waller the poet, to deliver London 
into the hands of the king. But Waller being questioned, 
*< whether Selden, Pierpouit, Whitelocke, and others, were 
acquainted with that plot, he answered that they were not ; 
but- that he came oiie erening to Selden's study, where 
Pierpoint and Whitelocke then were with Selden, on pur- 
pose to impart it to them all ; and, speaking of such a thing 



ia gcBtral tenaf » thei? gentleoMn did ao m^eigh aBaiott 
any such thing as treachery and baieoen, and that which 
■light be the occasion of ahedding much blood— that he said 
he durst not, for the awe and respect which he had for 
Selden and the rest, communicate any particulara to them, 
but was almost disheartened himself to proceed in it." 

Selden, when accused, denied the charge upon oath : it 
appears Uiat he was, at this time, not inclined to enter into 
all the violent measures of his party ; for though he voted 
against the king's commission of array, yet he strenuously 
supported the royal prerogative as to the militia : by this', 
it appears, that he was well disposed toward the just claims 
of the kingt though determined not to shrinkfirom his duty ; 
. aad, above all, not to serve him separately from the par< 

In 1643, he was chosen oneof the lay members of the pres- 
byterian clergy, and it is reported that he could not conceal 
his disgust at the ignorance and fanaticism of some of its 
members : two stories are current respecting his conduct in 
this assembly, but neither of them are worth recording. 
He soon after subscribed to the famous *' solemn league and 
covenaht," and was appointed keeper of the records in the 
Tower* In l64S he became one of the commissioners of 
the Admiralty, and the next year five thousand pounds 
were publicly voted him in consideration of his services 
aad suflferings in the public cause, but with true magna- 
nimity he dcclijied accepting it. *' While the great mass of 
his political compeers had been swayed by ambition, vanity, 
fcsentment, or avarice, patriotism had been the motivCf 
and the law of the land the index of his conduct."—'* In his 
p<ditical opinions, he seems to have entertained a high 
icsptict for the sacredneas of the social contract; and he 
justified tlie resistance to the Stuarts, on the ground that 
they had infHnged and violated this compact between the 
prince and the people." Thus far he had been active in 
promoting what he deemed a necessary reform in the state ; 
but from the scenes of anarch; and confusion which fol- 
lowed, he retired with a dear conscience, and returned 
to the prosecution of his beloved studies with eagerness. 
At this period, he commenced a work of stupendous em- 
ditiooj which he published in parts, entitled, < De Syne- 


4Hs^M PrefectuHs tteterum Hebrttonim :' he lived tmt to 
finish three books. Shortly before his death, he Wrote also 
a preface to the ' Decern Scriptores Anglicanse/ a Col- 
lection of Monkish Historians, published by sir R. Twysded ; 
and a Tindication of his < Mare Clansum,' whieh contains 
aome particulars of his own history. Of bis works, whieh 
ape very numerous, a list may be fotind in thie Biographia 
Brltannica: they were collected and published In six vo- 
lumes, fc^o, by the learned Dr. Wilkins, in l7'-(>. 

" At length," says Wood, «' after this great light of our 
nation had lived to about the age of man, it was extin- 
guished on the last of November, l654,*' He died of a gra- 
dual decline at the Carmelite, or Friary House, in White 
Friars, which he possessed, with other property, to a very 
considerable amount, by the bequest of Elisabeth, countess 
dowager of Kent, with whom he had lived in the strictest 
amity, as he had also done with tbe earl In hit life>time. 
He died very rich, having, lived a bachelor, in the exercise 
of a lucrative profession, with bo disposition to expense, 
beyond the formation of a most extensive and valuable li- 
brary, which he had once bequeathed to the Univenity of 
Oxford, but revoked the l^acy on account of some disgust 
taken 9t being required to give a bond as seairity for the 
loan of a manuscript : it was therefore left at the disposal 
of his executors, but he directed it not to be sold. 1 hey had 
intended bestowing it on the society of the Inner Templc« 
and it actually remained for five years in diambers hired 
for the purpose; but no preparations being made for build- 
ing a room to contain it, the executors placed it at length 
in the Bodleian Library, where it remains, with his other 

He was buried, by his own direction, in the Temple 
ichiurch, on the souUi side of the round walk: his funeral 
was splendid, and attended by all the judges, benchers, and 
great officers, with a concourse of the most distinguished 
persons of the time. 

To lord Clarendon's delineation of his character may be 
added what Whitelocke says of him ; '* that his mind was as 
great as his learning, being very generous and hospitable, 
and a good companion, especially where he liked." Dr. 
Wilkins says, *' he was naturally of a serious temper, which 


was somewhat soured by hia saStexingB ; so that he was firee 
only with a few." 

- His parliamentary character has been recently most ably 
sketdied by an anonymous writer in a x>eriodical paper. 
*' Selden was a member of the long parliament, and took an 
active and useftflpart in many important discussions and 
transactions. ^ He appears to have been regarded somewhat 
in the light of a valuable piece of national property, like 
a museum, or great public library, resorted to, as a matter 
of course, and a matter of right, in all the numerous cases 
in Y^hich lusistance was wanted from any part of the whole 
compan of legal and historical learning. He appeared in 
the national oouncilj not so much the representative of the 
contemporary inhabitants of a particular city, as of all the 
people of all past ages t concerning whom, and whose insti- 
tutions, he was deemed to know whatever was to be known, 
. and to be able to furnish whatever, within so vast a retro^ 
spect, was of a nature to give light and authority in the dc> 
dsion of questions arising in a doubtful and hasardous state 
of the national affiurs." 

*« After all," says one of his biographers, '* the most en- 
dearing part of Mr. Selden's character is elegantly touched 
by hiBDself in, the choice of his motto :'* 

Tlipt voarrcs n]i' t^f\j$tpmv» 








Webb you not executors to that person, who, while he 
lived, was the glory of the, nation $ yet am I confident, 
any thing of his would find' acceptance with you ; and truly 
the sense and notion here is wholly his, and most of the 
words. I had the opportunity to hear his discourse twenty 
years together; and lest all those excellent things that 
usually fell from him might be lost, some of than from 
time to time I faithful^ committed to writi^, which, here 
digkted into this method, I humbly present to your hands : 
—you will qidckly perceive them to be his, by the fami- 
liar illustrations wherewith they itre set off, and in whlc^ 
you know he was so happy, that, with a marvellous de- 
Ught to those that heard him, he would presently convey 


the highest points of religion « and the most important af> 
faiN of state, to an ordinary apprehension. 

In reading, be pleased to distinguish times, and in your 
fancy carry along with you the when and the why, many 
of these things were spoken { this will give them the more 
life, and the smarter relish. It is possible, the entertain- 
ment you find in them, may render you the more inolina- 
ble to pardon the presumption of 

Your most obliged, and 

Most humble servant, 





J. The iiuwilliDguess of the monks to part with 
tb^ir land, will fall out to be just nothing, because 
they were yielded up to the king by a supreme 
handy viz. a parliament. If a king conquer an- 
other country, the people are loath to lose their 
lands ; yet no divine will deny, but the king may 
give them to whom he please. If a parliament 
make a law concerning leather, or any other com- 
modity, you and I for exam pie, are parliament men j 
perhaps, in respect to our own private interests, 
we are against it, yet the migor part con^ude it : 
we are then involved, and the law is good. 

2. When the founders of abbeys laid acarse upon 
those that should take away those lands, I would 
fain know what power they liad to curse me ; it is 
ii#t the curses that come from the poor, or from 
any body, that hurt me, because they come from 
them, but because I do something ill against them 
that deserves God should curse me for it. On the 


Other j^ide, it is not a man's blessing me tliat malces 
me blessed, 'lie only declares me to be so ; and if I 
do well, I shall be blessed, whether any bless me or 

3. At the time of dissolationj they were tender 
in taking from the abbots and priors their lands 
and their houses, till they surrendered them^ as 
most of them did. Indeed, the prior of St. John's, 
sir Richard Weston, being a stout man, got into 
France, and stood out a whole year, at last sub- 
mitted, and the king took in that priory also, to 
which the Temple belonged, and many other houses 
in England. They did not then cry — No abbots, 
no priors ; as we do now. No bishops, no bishops. 

4. Henry the Fifth put away the friars, aliens, 
and seized to himself one hundred thousand pounds 
a year; andtherefore they were not the Protestants 
only that took away church lands. 

5* In qneen Elizabeth's time, when all the abbeys 
were pulled down, all good works defaced, then the 
preachers must cry npr justification by faith, not by 
good works. 


The nine- and-thirty Articles are much andther 
thing in Latin, (in which tongue they were made) 
than they are translated into English : they were 
made at three several convocations, and confirm- 
ed by act of parliament six or seven times after. 
There is a secret concerning them : of late ministers 
have subscribed to all of them, but by act of parlia. 
ment that confirmed them, they ought only to sub- 
scribe to those articles which contain matter of 


fi^th^ and^the doctrioeof the sacramentSy asap« 
pears by the first sabscriptioos. But bishop Ban- 
croft, (in the convocation held in king James's days) 
he began it, that ministers sfaoold subscribe to 
three things ; to the king's supremacy, to the Com- 
moo Prayer, and to tlie Thirty-niqe Articles : 
many of them do not contain matter of faith. Is it 
matter of faith how the church should be governed ? 
whether infants should be baptized ? whether we 
have any property in our goods ? ^c. 


1. It was a good way to persuade men to be 
christened, to tell them that they had a foulness 
about them, viz. original sin, that could not be 
washed away but by baptism. 

2. The baptizing of children, with us, does only 
prepare a child against he comes to be a man, to 
understand what Christianity means. In the church 
of Rome, it hath this effect, it frees children from 
hell. They say they go into limbus infantum^ It 
succeeds circumcision, and we are sore the child 
understood nothing of that at eight days old ; why 
then may not we as reasonably baptize a child at 
that age ? In England, of late years, I ever thought 
the parson baptized his own fingers rather than the 

3. In the primitive times, they had godfathers to 
'see the children brought up in the Christian reli- 
gion, because many times, when the father was a 
Christian, the mother was not; aod sometimes, 
when the mother was a Christian, the father was 
not; pnd therefore. they made choice of two or 


more that were Christians, to see tbdr children 
brought up in that faith. 


It is said, Deut. xxiii. 2. '* A bastard shall 
not enter into the congregation of the Lord, even 
to thjB tenth generation. — Non ingredietur in ecciC' 
siam Domini, he shall not enter into the church. 
The meaning of the phrase is, he shall not marry a 
Jewish woman. But upon this grossly mistaken : 
a bastard, at this day, in the church of Rome, with- 
out a dispensation, cannot take orders ; the thing 
haply. well enough, where it is so settled ; bnt it is 
upon a mistake, (the place having no reference to 
the church) appears plainly by what follows at the 
third verse, *' An Ammonite or Moabite shall not 
enter into tlie congregation of the Lord, even to 
the tenth generation." Now you know with the 
Jews, an Ammonite or a Moabite could never be a 
a priest, because their priests were born so, not 


I. It is a great question,- hoiy we know Scripture 
to be Scripture ; whether by the church, or by man's 
private spirit. Let me ask you how I know any 
thing ? how I know this carpet to be green ? First, 
because somebody told me it was green ; that yon 
call the church in your way. Then after I have 
been told it is green, when I see that colour again, 
I know it to be green, my own eyes tell me it is 
green ; that you call the private spirit. 


2. The English translation of the Bible Is the 
best translation in the world, aTid renders the sense 
of the original best, talcing in for the English 
translation, the bishops' Bible, as well as king 
Jameses. The translation in king James's time 
took an excellent way : that part of the Bible was 
given to him who was most excellent in snch a 
tongne, (as the Apocrypha to Andrew Downs) and 
then they met together, and one read the transla- ^ 
tloUy the rest holding in their hands some Bible, 
either of -the learned tongues, or French, Spanish, 
Italian, &c. ; if tliey fonnd any fault, they spoke ; if 
not, he read on. 

3. There is no book so translated as the Bible for 
tlie purpose. If I translate a French book into 
English, I turn it into English phrase, uot into 
French-English, il fait froidy I say it is cold ; not, 
it makes cold : but the Bible is rather translated 
into English words, than into English phrase. The 
Hebraisms ai*e kept, and the phrase of that Ian. 
guage is kept; as for example, " he uncovered her 
shame,*' which is well enough, so long as scholars 
have to do with it ; but when it comes among the 
common people. Lord, what gear do they make 
of it ! 

4. Scrutamini Scriptural, These two words 
have undone the world : because Christ spake it to 
his disciples, therefore we must all, men, women, 
and children, read and interpret the Scripture. 

5. Henry the Eighth made a law, that all men 
might read the Scripture, except servants ; but no 
woman, except ladies and gentlewomen, who had 
leisure, and might ask somebody the meaning. The 
law was repealed in Edward the Sixth's days. 


6. Lay-men have best interpreted the hard places* 
in the Bible, such as Johannes Picos, Scaliger, 
Orotins, Salmasins, Heinsius, &c. 

7. If yon ask which of Erasmns, Beza, or Gro- 
tinsy did best upon the New Testament,- it is an 
idle qnestion, for they all did well In their way. 
Erasmus broke down the first brick, Beza added 
many things, and Orotius added much to him, in 
whom we have either something new, or somethiug 
heightened, that was said before ; and so it was ue 
cessary to have them all three. 

8. The text serves only to guess by : we most sa- 
tisfy ourselves fully out of the authors that lived 
about those times. 

9. In interpreting the Scripture, many do as if a 
man should see one have ten pounds, which he 
reckoned by one, two, three, four, five, six,, seven, 
eight, nine, ten ; meaning four, was but four units, 
and five, five units, &c. and that he had in all but 
ten pounds ; the other that sees him, takes not the 
figures together as be doth, but picks here and there, 
and thereupon I'eports, that he hath five pouuds 
in one bag, and six pounds in another bag, aud 
nine pounds in another bag, &c. when as in truth, 
he hath but ten pounds in all. So we pick out a 
text here and there, to make it serve our turn ; 
whereas, if we take it all together, and considered 
what went before, and what followed after, we 
should find it meaut no such thing. 

10. Make no more allegories in Scripture than 
needs must. The fathers were too frequent io 
them; they indeed, before they fully understood 
the literal sense, looked out for an allegory : the 
foliy whereof you may conceive thoft— herCj at the 


fkTBt sigbt, appears to me, in my window, a glass and 
a boolc ; I take it for granted it is a glass and a boolr ; 
thereupon I go about to tell you what they signify : 
afterwards, upon nearer view, they prove no such 
thing ; one is a box made lilie a boolt, the other is 
a picture made lilce a glass : where is now my alle- 

11. When men meddle with the literal text, the 
question is, where they should stop ? In this case 
a man must venture his discretion, and do his best 
to satisfy himself and others in those places where 
he doubts ; for although we call the Scripture the 
word of God, (as it is) yet it was writ by a man, ^a 
mercenary man, whose copy either might be false, 
or he might make it false : for example, here were 
a thousand Bibles printed in England with the text 
thus — *' Thou shalt commit adultery," the word 
not left out : might not this text be mended ? 

12. The Scripture may have more senses besides 
the literal, because God understands all things at 
once ; but a man*s writing has but one true sense, 
which is that which the author meant when he 
writ it. 

13. When you meet with several readings of the 
text, take heed you admit nothing against the tenets 
of your church, but do as if you were going over a 
bridge ; be sure you hold fast by the rail, and then 
you may dance here and there as yon please ; be 
sure you keep to whal is settled, and then yon may 
flourish upon your various lections. 

14. llie Apocr}pha is bound with the Bibles of 
all churches that have been hitherto. Why should 
we leave it out ? the church of Rome has her 
Apocrypha, viz. Susanna, and Bell and the Dragon ^ 


wliich she does not esteem equally with the rest ot 
those books that we call Apocrypha. 


1. A bishop, as a bishop, had never any ecclesi- 
astical jurisdiction ; for, as soon as he was electiu 
confirmatuSf that is, after the three proclamationii 
iu Bow-chiirch, he might exercise jurisdiction be- 
fore he was consecrated ; not till then, he was no 
bishop, neither could he give orders. Besides, suf- 
fragans were bishops, and they never claimed any 

2. Anciently, the noblemen lay within (he city 
for safety and security. The bishops' houses wei-e 
by the water side, because they were held sacred 
{)ersons which nobody would hurt. * 

3. There was some sense for commendams : at 
iit^t, when there was a living void, and never a 
clerk to serve it, the bishop was to keep it till they 
found a fit man ; but now it is a trick for the bishop 
to keep it for himself. 

4. For a bishop to preach, it is to do other folks* 
office, as if the steward of the house should execute 
the porter's or the cook's place : it is his business 
to see that they and all other about the house per- 
form their duties. 

5. That which is thought to have done the 
bishops hurt, is their going about to bring meu to 
a blind obedience, imposing things upon them, 
though perhaps small and well enough, without 
preparing them, and insinuating into their reasona 
and fancies. Every man loves to know his com- 
mander. I wear those gloves, but, perhaps, if au 

SBL]>£NUNA. 23 

alderman should command me, I should think much 
to do it : what has he to do with me ? Or, if he 
has, peradventure I do not Icnow it. This jump- 
ing upon things at first dash will destroy all : ta 
keep up friendship, there must be little addresses 
and applications, whereas bluntness spoils it quickly : 
to keep up the hierarchy, there niust be little appli- 
cations made to men ; they must be brought on by 
little and little : so in the primitive times, the power 
was gained, and so it must be continued. Scaliger 
said of Erasmus, Si minor esse voluit, mq^qr/Uissei, 
So we may say of the bishops, Siminores esse volue- 
tint, mqjores fuissetii, 

6. The bishops were too hasty, eUe, with a dis- 
creet slowness, they might have had what they aimed 
at : the old story of the fellow, that told the gentle- 
man he might get to such a place, if he did not ride 
too fast, would have fitted their turn. 

7. For a bishop to cite an old canon to strengthen 
his new articles^^is as if a lawyer should plead an old 
statute that has been repealed God knows how long. 


1. Bishops have the same right to sit in parlia. 
ment as the best earls and barons, that is, those 
that were made by writ : if you ask one of them, 
(Arundel, Oxford, Northumberland) why they sit 
in the house ? they can only say, their fathers sat 
there before them, and their grandfather before 
him, &c. and so say the bishops ; he that was a 
bishop of this place before me, sat in the house, 
and he that was a bishop before him, &c. In- 
deed, your later earls and barons have it ex- 
pressed in their patents^ that they shall be called 


to th^ parliameDt. O^edion, Bat the lords sit 
tliere by blood, the bishops not. Aiuw, It is true, 
they ut not there both the same way, yet that takes 
not away the bishop's right : if I am a parsoa'of a 
parish, I have as mach right to my glebe and tithe, 
as yoa have to your land, which yoor ancestors have 
had In that parish eight hundred years. 

2. The bishops were not barons l)ecan8e they had 
baronies annexed to their bishoprics ; (for few of 
them had so, unless the old ones, Canterbury, Win- 
chester, Durham, &c. the new erected we are sure 
had none, as Gloucester, Peterboroagb, &c. besides, 
few of the temporal lords had any baronies) but 
they are barons, because they are called by writ to 
the parliament, and bishops were in the parliament 
ever since there was any mention or sign of a par* 
liament in England. 

3. Bishops may be judged by the peers, though in 
time of popery it never happened, because they pre- 
tended they were not obnoxious to a secular court, 
but their way was to' C17, Ego sum JYc^er Domini 
PaptB — I am brother to my lord the pope, and, there- 
fore, take not myself to be judged by you : in this 
case, they empanneled a Middlesex jury, and dis- 
patched the business. 

4. Whether may bishops be present in cases of 
blood ? j^nwD, That they had a right to give votes, 
appears by this : always, when they did go out, they 
left a proxy; and in the time of the abl>ot8, one man 
had ten, twenty, or thirty voices. In Richard the 
Second's time, there was a protestation against the 
canons, by which they were forbidden to be present 
in case of blood. The statute of the twenty- fifth of 
Henry the Eighth may go a great way in this busi- 
ness. The clergy were forbidden to use or cite aoy 


canon, &c. but in the latter end of the statute, 
there was a clause, that snch canons that were in 
nsage in this kingdom shonld be in force till the 
tbirty-two commissioners appointed shonld make 
others, provided they were not contrary to the king's 
supremacy. Now the question will be, whether 
these canons for blood were in use in this kingdom 
or no ? the contrary whereof may appear by many 
precedents, in Richard the Third, and Henry the 
Seventh, and the beginning of Henry the £ighth,,in 
which time there were more attunted than sinoe, 
or scarce before. The canons of irregularity of blood 
were never received in England, but upon pleasure* 
If a lay lord was attainted, the bishops assented to 
bis condemning, and were always present at the 
passing of the bill of attainder ; but, if a spiritual 
lord, they went out as if they dared not whose head 
was cut off, so none of their own. In those days, 
the bishops being of great houses, were ofteh en- 
tangled with the lords in matters of treason. But 
when do you hear of a bishop a traitor now ? 

5. You would not have bishops meddle with tem« 
poral affairs ; think who you are that say it. If a 
Papist, they do in your church ; if an English Pro- 
testant, they do among you; if a Presbyterian, 
where you have no bisliops, yon mean your Presby* 
terian lay elders should meddle with temporal af« 
fairs as well as spiritnal : besides, all jurisdiction 
is temporal, and in no church but they have some 
jurisdiction or other. The question then will be 
reduced to magU and nUnut; they meddle more in 
one church than in another* 

6. O^fedUm. Bishops give not their votes, by 
blood in parliament, bat by an oiSce annexed to 


theniy which heing taken away, they cease to vote ; 
therefore, there is not the same reason for them as 
for temporal lords. Answ. We do not pretend they 
have that power the same way, but they have a 
right : he that has an office in Westminster-hail 
for his life, the office is as much his, as his land is 
his that hath land by inheiltance. 

7. Whether had the inferior clergy ever any thing 
to do in the parliament ? Ansto, No, no otherwise 
than thtts : there were certain of the clergy that 
used to assemble near the parliameot, with whom 
the bishops npon occasion might consult, (but there 
were none of the convocation, as it was afterwards 
settled, viz. the dean, the archdeacon, one for the 
chapter, and two fur the diocese) but it happened, 
by continuance of time, to save charges and trouble, 
their voices, and the consent of the whole clergy 
were involved in the bishops ; and at this day, the 
bishops* writs run, to bring ^1 these to the parlia- 
ment, but the bishops themselves stand for all. 

8. Bishops were formerly one of these two con- 
ditions; either men bred canonists and civilians, 
sent up and down ambassadors to Rome and other 
parts, and so by their merit came to that greatness ; 
or else great noblemen's sons, brothers, and ne- 
phews, and so born to govern the state : now they 
are of a low condition, their education nothing of 
that way ; he gets a living, and then a greater li- 
vings and then a greater than that, and So comes to 

9.. Bishops are now unfit to govern because of 
their learning ; they are bred up in another law^ 
they run to the text, for something done* amongst 
the Jews that nothing concerns England : it is just 


iis if a man would have a kettle, and he would not 
go to our brazier to have it made as they make ket* 
flefif but he would have it made as Hiram made 
his brass-work, who wrought in Solomon's temple* 

10. To take away bishops' votes, is but the be*> 
ginning to take them away ; for then they can be 
no longer useful to the king or state. It is but like 
the little wimble, to let in the greater auger. 06* 
jection. But, they are but for their life, and tbat 
malces them always go for the king as he will have 
them. Ansvf, This is against a double charity, for 
you must always suppose a bad king and bad bishops. 
Then again, whether will a man be sooner content^ 
himself should be made a slave, or his son after 
him? (when we talk of our children, we mean our-** 
selves) besides, they that have posterity are more 
obliged to the king, than they that are only for 
themselves, in all the reason in the world. 

11* How shall the clergy be in the parliament if 
the bishops are taken away ? Answ, By the laity, 
because the bishops, in whom the rest of theclergy 
are included, are sent to the taking away their own 
votes, by being involved in the major part of the 
house.: this follows naturally. 

12. The bishops being put out of the house, 
whom will they lay the fault upon now ? when the 
dog is beat out of the room, where will they lay the 
litink I 



1, In the beginning, bishops and presbyters were 
alili^ei like the gentlemen in the country, whereof 

28 S£LD£NUNA. 

one is made deputy lieatenaut, another justice of 
peace ; so one is made a bishop, another a dean ; 
and that kind of government by archbishops and 
bishops, no dqabt came in, in imitation of the tem- 
poral government, not jure divino. In time of the 
]ftoman empire, where they had a legatos^ there 
ihey placed an archbishop ; where they had a rector, 
there a bishop ; that every one might be instructed 
in Christianity, which now they had received into 
the empire. 

2. Tliey that speak ingeniously of bishops and 
presbyters, say, that a bishop is a great presbyter, 
and daring the time of his being bishop, above a 
presbyter ; as your president of the college of physi- 
dans is above the rest, yet he himself is no more 
than a doctor of physic. 

3. The words bishop and presbyter are promis- 
cnoosly used, that is confessed by all : and though 
the word bishop be in Timothy and Titus, yet that 
will not prove the bishops ought to have a jurisdic* 
tion over the presbyter, though Timothy or Titus 
had by the order that was given them ; somelnxiy 
must take care of the rest, and that jurisdictioD 
was but to excommunicate, and that was but to tell 
them they should come no more into their com- 
pany; or grant they did make canons one for an^ 
oth&\ before they came to be in the state, does it 
follow they must do so when the state has received 
them into it ? What if Hmothy had power in 
Ephesus, and Titus in Crete, over the presbyters ? 
does it follow therefore the bishop must have the 
lame in £ngkuid ? most we be governed like ISphe* 
8118 ^d Crete ? 


4. However some of the bishops pretend to be 

jure dhfino, yet the practice of the kingdom had 

ever been otherwise ; for whatever bishops, do 

otherwise than the law permits^ Westminster.hail 

can control, or send them to absolve, &c. 

5. He that goes about to prove bishops ^«/0 divino^ 
does as a man that having a sword shall strilce it 
against an anvil : if he strike it awhile there, he 
may peradventure loQsen it, though it be never so 
well rivetted : 'twill serve to strike another sword, 
or cnt flesh, but not against an anvil. 

6. If you should say you hold your land by Moses 
or God's law, and would try it by that, you may 
perhaps lose, but by the law of the kingdom you are 
sure of it : so may the bishops by this plea of Jure 
dwmo lose all. The pope had as good a title by the 
law of England as could be had, had he not left 
that, and claimed by power from God. 

7. There is no government enjoined by example, 
but by precept ; it does not follow we must have 
bishops still, because we have had them so long. 
They are equally mad who say bishops are so Jure 
divino, that they mnst be continued, and they who 
say tbey are so antichristian, that they must he put 
away : alP is as the state pleases. 

- 8.^ To have no ministers but presbyters, it is as 
in the temporal state they should have no officers 
but constables. Bishops do best stand with ^mon- 
archy ; that as amongst the laity, you have dukes, 
lords, lieutenants, judges, &c. to send down the 
king's pleasure to bis subjects— so you have bishops 
to govern the inferior clergy : these upon occasion 
may address themselves to the king ; otherwise^every 


parsoQ of the parish must come, and ran up to the 

9. The Protestants have no bishops in France, 
because they live in a Catholic country, and they will 
not have Catholic bishops ; therefore, they must go- 
vern themselves as well as they may. 

10. What is that to the purpose, to what end 
bisliops' lands were given to them at first ? you 
must look to the law and custom of the place. What 
Is that to any temporal lord's estate, how lands were 
first divided, or how in William the Conqueror's 
days ? And if men at iirst were juggled out of their 
estates, yet they are rightly their successors. If my 
father cheat a man, and be consent to it, the in« 
heritance is rightly mine. 

11. If there be no bishops, there must be some- 
thing else, which has the power of bishops, though 
it be in many ; and then had you not as good keep 
them ? If you will have no half-crowns, but only 
single pence, yet thirty single pence area half-crown; 
and then h^d you not as good keep both ? But the 
bishops have done ill : it was the men, not the 
function ; as if you should say, you would have no 
more half-crowns, because they were stolen ; when 
the truth is, they were not stolen because they were 
half-crowns, but because they were money, and 
light in a thief's hand. 

12. They that would pull down the bishops, and 
^rect a new way of government, do as he that pulls 
down an old house, and builds another, in another 
fashion ; there is a great deal of do, and a great deal 
of trouble; the 9ld rubbish must be carried away, 
and new materiaitiiiBstbe brought | workmen most 

«£tDBNIANA. 31 

be provided— ^ud perhaps the old one would have 
served as well, 

13. If the parliameDt and preshyterian party 
should dispute who should be judge ? Indeed, ia 
the beginning of qneen Elizabeth, there was such a 
difference between the Protestants and Papists, and 
sir Nicholas Bacon, lord chancellor, was appointed 
to be judge ; but the conclusion was, the stronger 
party carried it : for so religion was brought into 
kingdoms, so it has been continued, and so it may 
be cast out, when the state pleases. 

14. It will be a great di.«:couragement to scholars 
that bishops should be put down ; for nowthe father 
can say to his son, and the tutor to his pupil, <' Study 
hard, and you shall have vocem et tedem in pariia^ 
mento;** then it must be, " Study hard, and you 
shall have a hundred a year, if you please your 
parish." Ol^ection. But they that enter into the 
ministry for preferment, are like Judas that looked 
after the bag. Answer, It may be so, if they turn . 
scholars at Judas's age; but what arguments will 
they use to persuade them to follow their books 
while they are young ? 


1. The giving.a bookseller his price for his books 
has this advantage : he that will do so, shall have 
the refusal of whatsoever comes to his hand, and so 
by that means get many things, which, otherwise, 
he never should have seen : so it is in giving a bawd 
her price. ' 

2. In buying books or other commodities, it is 
jM>t always the best way to bid half so much as the 


teller asks : witness the country fellow thkt went to 
boy two ihovel groat shilliogs ; they asked him three 
sbUliDgSy and he bid them eighteen pence. 

3. Tliey counted the price of the books (Acts, ziz. 
19) and found fifty thousand pieces of silver, that is 
SO many seztertii, or so many three- halfpence of 
our money, about three hundred pounds sterling. 

4. Popish books teach and inform : what we 
know, we know much out of them. The fathers, 
church 8toi7, schoolmen, all may pass for Popish 
books ; and if you take away them, what learning 
will yon leave ? Besides, who must be judge ? the 
customer or the wuter ? If he disallows a book, 
h must not be brought into the kingdom; then 
Lord have mercy upon all scholars. These puritan 
preachers, if tbey have any things good, they have 
It out of Popish books, though they will not ac- 
knowledge it, for fear of displeasing the pedple ; he 
is a poor divine that cannot sever the good from the 

5. It is good to have translations, because they 
serve as a comment, so far as the judgment of the 
man goes. 

6. In answering a book, it is best to be short, 
otherwise he that I write agsunst will suspect I in- 
tend to weary him, not to satisfy him : besides, in 
being long, I shall give my adversary a huge advan- 
tage ; somewhere or other he will pick a hole. 

7. In quoting of books, quote such authors as are 
usually read ; others yon may read for your own 
•catisfaction, but not name them. 

8. Quoting of authors is most for matter of fact; 
and then I write them as I would produce a witness, 
sometimes for a free expression; and then I gi^e 

«BLDENIANA« ■' ' 33 

tbe author his dae, and gain myself praUe by read- 
ing him. 

9. To quote a modern Dutchman, where I may 
use a classic author, is as if I were to justify my re- 
putation, and I neglect all persons of note and 
quality that know me, and bring the testimonial of 
the scnllion in the kitchen. 


If I would study the canon law, as it is used in 
England, I must study tbe heads here in use, tli^n 
go to the practisers in those courts where that law is 
practised, and know their customs: so for all tbe 
study in the world. 


1. Ceremony keeps up all things; it is like a 
penny-glass to a rich spirit, or some ezcellent water ; 
without it the water were spilt, the spirit lost. 

2. Of all people, ladies have no reason to cry down 
ceremonies, for they take themselves slighted with- 
out it. And were they not used with ceremony, 
with compliments and addresses, with legs, and 
kissing of hands, they were the pitifollest crsj^tures 
in the world; but yet, methinks, to kiss their 
hands after their lips, as some do, is like little boys, 
that after they eat the apple, fall to the paring, out 
of a love they have to the apple. 




U The bishop is not to sit with the chancellor in 
his court, as being a thing either beneath him, or 
beside him, no more than the liing is to sit in the 
king's bench when he has made a lord chief-justice. 

2. The chancellor governed in the church/ who 
was a layman ; and, therefore, it is false which they 
charge the bishops with, that they challenge sole 
jnrisdictioB ; for the bishop can no more pnt ont 
the chancellor, than the chancellor the bishop. 
They were many of them made chancellors for their 
lives; and he is the fittest man to govern, because 
divinity so overwhelms the rest. 


I, It is the trial of a man to see if he will change 
his side ; and if he be so weak as to change once, 
he will change again. Yoar country fellows have a 
way to try if a man be weak in the hams, by coming 
behind him, and giving him a blow unawares ; if 
he bend once, he'will bend again. 
' 2. TheJords that fall from the king, after they 
have got estates by base flattery at court, and now 
pretend conscience, do as a vintner, that when he 
first sets up, yon may bring your wench to his 
house, and do your things there ; but when he grows 
rich, he turns conscientious, and will sell no vnne 
upon the Sabbath-day. 

3. Colonel Goring, serving first the one side and 
then the other, did like a good miller that knows 
how to grind, which way soever the wind sits. 


4. After Lather bad made a combustion in Ger- 
many about religion » he was sent to by the pope, to 
be taken oft, and offered any preferment In the 
church, that he would make choice of. Luther an- 
swered — if he had offered half as much at first, he 
would have accepted it ; but now he had gone so far, 
he could not come back. In truth, he had made 
himself a greater thing than they could make him ; 
the German princes courted him ; he was become 
the author of a sect ever after to be called Luther- 
ans. So have our preachers done that are against 
the bishops; they have made themselves greater 
with the people than they can be made the other 
way, and, therefore, there is the less charity pro- 
bably in bringing them off*. Charity to strangers is 
enjoined in the text : by strangers, is there under- 
stood, those that are not of our own kin, strangers • 
to your blood, not those you cannqt tell whence they 
come; that is, be charitable to your neighbours, 
whom you know to be honest poor people* 


1. Christmas succeeds the Saturnalia, the same 
time, the same number of holydays, then the ma- 
ster waited upon the servant, like the lord of mis- 

2. Our meats and our sports (much of them) have 
relation to church- wdrks. The coffin of our Christ- 
mas pies, in shape long, is in imitation of the 
cratch ; our choosing kings and queens, on Twelfth- 
night, hath reference to the three kings : so, like- 
wise, our eating of fritters, whipping of tops, roast- 
iog of herrings. Jack of Xents, &c. they .were all in 


imitation of church-works, emblems of martjrdocn. 
Our tansies, at Easter, liave reference to the bitter 
herbs ; though, at the same^time, it was always the 
fashion for a man to have a gammon of bacon, to 
show himself to be no Jew. 


1. In the high church of Jerusalem, theGhristlans 
were but another sect of Jews, that did l)eIieTe the 
Messias was come. To be called, was nothing else 
but to become a Christian, to have the name of a 
Christian', it l)eing their own language ; for, amongst 
the Jews, when they made a doctor of law, it was 
said, he was called. 

2. The Turks tell their people of a heaven where 
' there is sensible pleasure*— but of a hell where they 

shall suffer they do nbt know what : the Christians 
quite invert this order; they tell us of a hell where 
we shall feel sensible pain — ^bat of a heaven where 
we shall enjoy we cannot tell what. 

3. Why did the heathens object to the Cliristians, 
that they worship an ass's head ? You must know, 
that to a heathen, a Jew and a Christian were all 
one, that they regarded him not, so he wa^ not one 
of them. Now, that of the ass's head might pro- 
ceed from such a mistake as this : by the Jews' law 
all the firstlings of cattle were to be offered to God, 
except a young ass, which was to be redeemed : a 
heathen being present, and seeing young calves and 
young lambs killed at their sacrifices, only young 
asses redeemed, might very well think they had that 
silly beast in some high estimation, and thence might 
imagine they worshipped it as a god. 



1. Heretofore the kiogdom let the church alone, 
let them do what they wonld, because they had 
somethuig else to think of,'vix* wars; but now, in 
time of peace, we begin to examine all things, will 
have nothing but what we like, grow dainty and 
wanton ; just as in a family, the heir uses to go a 
hunting, he never considers how his meal is dressed, 
takes a bit, and away ; but when he stays within, 
then he grows curious, he does not like this nor he 
does not like that, he will have his medt dressed his 
own way, or, peradventure, he will-dress it himself. 

2. It hath ever been the gain of the church, when 
the king will let the church have no power, to cry 
down the king and cry up the church ; but when 
the church can make use of the king's power, then 
to bring all under the king's prerogative : the Ca» 
tholics of England go one way, and the court clergy 

3. A glorious church is like a magnificent feast ; 
there is all the variety that may be, but every one 
chooses out a dish or two that he likes, and lets the 
rest alone : how glorious soever the church is, every 
one chooses out of it his own religion, by which he 
governs himself, and lets the rest alone, 

4. The laws of the church are most favourable to 
the church, because they were the church's own 
making ; as the heralds are the best gentlemen, be* 
cause they make Iheir own pedigree. 

5. There is a question about that article, con- 
cerning the power of the church, whether these 
words (of having power in coutrorersies' of futb) 


were not stolen in ; bat it It most certaiii they were 
ill the boolc of articles that was conftrmed, though, 
in some editions, they have been left out : hot the 
article before tells yon who the church is ; not the 
clergy, but ctgtusjidelhim. 


1. Before a juggler's tricks are discovered, we 
admire him, and give him money, but afterwards 
we care not for them ; so it was before the disco* 
very of the juggling of the church of Rome. 

2. Catholics say, we, out of our charity, betieve 
they of the church of Rome may be saved ; but they 
do not believe so of us ; therefore, their church is 
better, according to ourselves : first, some of them 
no doubt believe as well of us, as we do of them, 
but they must not say so ; besides, is that an arga-> 
ment their church is better than Qur», because it 
has less charity ? 

3. One of the church of Rome will not come to 
our prayers : does that agree he doth not lilie them ? 
I would fain see a Catholic leave his dinner, because 
a nobleman's chaplain says grace ; nor haply would 
he leave the prayers of the church, if going to 
church were not made a mark of distinction between 
a Protestant and a Papist. 


The way coming into our great churches was 
anciently at the west door, that men might see the 
altar, and all the church before them : the other 
doors were but posterns. 



1. What makes a city? whether a bishopric or 
any of that nature ? Answer, It is according to the 
first charter which made them a corporation : if 
they are incorporated by name oicivitas, they are a 
city ; if by the name of burgum, then they are a 

2. The lord mayor of London, by their first 
charter, was to be presented to the king, in his abs- 
ence to the lord chief justiciary of England, after- 
wards to the lord chancellor, now to the barons of 
the exchequer; but still there was a reservation, 
that, for their honour, they should come once a year 
to the king, as they do still. 


1. Though a clergyman have no faults of his own, 
yet the faults of the whole tribe shall be laid upon 
him, so that he shall be sure not to lack. 

2. The clergy would have us believe them agninst 
our own reason, as the woman would have had her 
husband against his own eyes : ** What! will yon be- 
lieve your own eyes before your own sweet wife ?" 

3. The condition of the clergy towards their 
prince, and the condition of the physician, is all one : 
the physidaoB tell the prince they have agricand 
rhubarb, good for him, and good for his snbjecta*^ 
bodies; upon this^ he gives them leave to use it; 
but if it prove naught, then away with it, they 


shall use it oo more : so the clergy tell the prince 
they have physic good for his soul, and good for the 
souls of his people : upon that he admits them ; 
but when he finds, by experience, they both trouble 
him and his people, he will have no more to do 
with them. What is diat to them, or any body 
else, if a king will not go to heaven ? 

4. A clergyman goes not a dram farther than 
this, you ought to obey your prince in general ; if 
he does he is lost : how to obey him you must be 
informed by those whose profession it is to tell you. 
The parson of the Tower, a good discreet tnan, told 
Dr. Mosely, who was sent to me, and the rest of the 
gentlemen committed in the third of Charles, to 
persuade us to submit to the king ; that they found 
no such words as parliament, habeas corpus, return, 
tower, &c. neither in the fathers, nor the school- 
men, nor in the text ; and, therefore, for his part, 
he believed he understood nothing of the business. 
A Satire upon all those clergymen that meddle with 
matters they do not understand. 

5. Alt confess there never was a more learned 
clergy ; no man taxes them, with ignorance ; but 
to talk of that, is like the fellow that was a great 
wencher; he wished God would forgive him his 
lechery, and lay usury Co his charge. The clergy 
have worse faults. 

6w The clergy and laity together are never like 
to do well; it is as if a man were to make an ex- 
cellent feast, and should have his apothecary and 
physician come into the kitchen : the cooks, if tbey 
were let alone> would make excellent meat; but 
then cornea the apothecary, and he puts rhubarb into 

88LDBNIA1CA. . 41 

one sance^ and agric into another sauce : chidn 
np the clergy on both sides. 


Men cry oat upon the high commission, as if 
the clergymen only had to do in it, when I believe 
there are more laymen in commission there than 
dergymen : if the laymen will not come, whose fault 
is that ? So of the star-chamber, the people thinic 
the bishops only censored Prynne, Borton, and 
Bastwiclc, when there were but two there, and 
one spake not in his own cause. 


1. There bo bat two erroneous opinions in'the 
house of commons, that the lords sit only for them- 
selves, wlien the tmth is, they sit as well for the 
commonwealth. The knights and burgesses sit for 
themselves and others, some for more, some for 
fewer ; and what is the reason ? because the room 
. Will not hold all : the lords being few, they all come, 
and imagine the room able to hold all the commons 
of England, then the lords and burgesses would sit 
no otherwise than the lords do. The second error 
is, that the bouse of commons are to begin to give 
subsidies ; yet, if the lords dissent, they can give no 

2. The house of commons is called the lower 
house in twenty acts of parliament; but what are 
twenty acts of parliament amongst friends ? 

3. The form of a charge ruos thus, / accuse in ' 
the name of all the commoru of England: how then 
can any man be as a witness,* when every man is 
made the accuser ? 



1. lu time of parliament it used to be one of the 
first things the house did to petition the king that 
his confessor might be removed, as fearing either 
his power with the king, or else, lest he should re^ 
veal to the pope what the house was in doing, as 
no doubt he did, when the Catholic cau«e was con- 

2. The difference between us and the Papists is, 
we both allow contrition ; bat the Papists make 
confession a part of contrition : they say a man is 
not sufficiently contrite till he confess his sins to a 

3. Why should I think a priest will not reveal 
confession ? 1 am sure he will do any thing that is 
forbidden him, haply not so often as I. The ut- 
most punishment is deprivation ; and how can it be 
proved that ever any man revealed confession when 
there is no witness ? and no man can be witness in 
his own cause. A mere gullery ! There was a time 
when it was public in the church, and that is much 
against their auricular confession. 


That which is a competency for one man, is not 
enough for another, no more than that which will 
keep one man warm, will keep another man warm ; 
one man can go in doublet and hose, when another 
man cannot be without a cloak, and yet havQ no 
more clothes than is necessary for him. 



The greatest conjnnction of Satarn and Jupiter 
happens but once in eight hundred years, and 
therefore, astrologers can make no experiments of 
it, nor foretell what it means : not but that the stars 
may mean something ; but we cannot tell what, be- 
cause we cannot come at them : suppose a planet 
were a simple, or an herb ; how could a physician 
tell the virtue of that simple, unless he could come 
at it, to apply it ? 


1. He that hath a scrupulous conscience, is like a 
horse that is not well weighed ; he starts at every 
bird that flies out of the hedge. 

2. A knowing maq will do that which a tender 
conscience man dares not do, by reason of his igno* 
ranee ; the other knows there is no hurt : as a child 
is afraid to go into the dark, when a man is not, be<* 
cause he knows there is no danger. 

3. If we once come to leave that outloose, as to 
pretend conscience against law, who knows what 
inconvenience may follow ? for thus, suppose an 
Anabaptist comes and takes my horse ; I sue him : 
he tells me he did according to bis conscience ; his 
conscience tells him all things are common amongst 
the saints ; what is mine is his ; therefore you do 
ill to make such a law. If any man takes another's 
horse, he shall be hanged : what can I say to 
this mau ? He does according to his conscience^ 
Wh^ is not he. as honest a man as he that pre^ 


tends a ceremony established by law is against ^ ^ 
ms conscience? Generally to pretend conscience 
against law is dangerous ; tn some cases haply we 

4. Some men make it a case of conscience, whe- 
ther a man may have a pigeon-hoase, becanse his 
pigeons eat other folks com. But there is no such 
thing as conscience in the basiness : the matter is, 
whether he be a man of snch quality, that the state ' 
allows him to h^ve a dove-house : if so, there is an 
end of the business; his pigeons have a right to eat 
where they please themselves. 


1. The Jews had a peculiar way of consecrating 
things to Ood, which we have not. 

2. Under the law, God, who was master of all, 
made choice of a temple to worship in, where he 
was more especially present : just as the master of 
the house, who owns all the house, makes choice 
of one chamber to lie in, which is called the ma- 
ster's chamber ; but under the Gospel there was no 
such thing. Temples and churches are set apart for 
the conveniency of men to worship in : they cannot 
meet upon the point of a needle, but God himself 
makes no choice. 

3. All things are God's already; we can give 
him no right by consecrating any that he had not < 
before, only we set it apart to his service : just as a 
gardener brings his lord and master a basket of 
apricots, and presents them ; his lord thanks him, 
perhaps gives him something for his pains ; and yet 

thf apricots were as much his lord's before as now. 

8£lDENtANA. 45 

4. What is 'Consecrated, is given to some particu- 
lar man, to do God service ; not given to God, but 
given to man to serve God : and tliere is not any 
thing, lands or goods, but some men or other have 
it in their power to dispose of as they please : the 
aaying things consecrated cannot he taken away, 
makes men afriUd of consecration. 

5. Yet consecration has this power : when a man 
has consecrated any thing to God| he cannot of 
himself take it away. 


1. If our fathers hare lost their liberty, why may 
not we labour to regain it ? Atmo, We must look 
to the contract ; if that be rightly made, we must 
stand to it : if we once grant we may recede from 
contracts upon any inconveniency that may after- 
wards happen, we shall have no iNirgain kept. If I 
sell you a horse, and do not like my barg^n, I will 
have my horse again. 

S. Keep your contracts : so far a divine goes ; but 
how to make our contracts is left to ourselves ; and 
as we agree upon the conveying of this house, or 
that land, so it must lie : if you offer me a hundred 
pomnds for my glove, I tell you what my glove is, a 
plain glove ; pretend no virtue in it ; the glove la 
ny own : I profess not to sell gloves, and we agree 
for a hundred pounds : I do not know why I may 
not with a saJfe conscience take it. The want of that 
common obvious distinction of jm pracepihfmn 
MadjiupermUHmtm, does much trouble men; 

3. Lady Kent articled with sir Edward Herbert, 
that he diould oome to her when she sent for him. 


and stay with her as long as she wonld hare him ; ' 
to which he set his hand : then he articled With 
her, that he should go away when he pleased, and 
stay away as long as he pleased ; to which she set 
her hand. This is the epitome of all the contracts 
in the world, betwixt man and man, betwixt prince 
and subject ; they Iteep them as long as they like 
theim, and no longer. 



' They talis, (but blasphemously enough) that the 
Holy Ghost is president of their general councils ; 
when the truth is^ the odd man is still the Holy 


1« When the king sends his writ for a parliament, 
he sends for two knights for a shire, and two bur- 
gesses for a corporation : but when he sends for two 
archbishops for a convocation, he commands them 
to assemble the whole clergy ; bnt they out of cus- 
tom amongst themselves send to the bishops of their 
provinces, to will them to bring two clerks for a die* 
eescy the dean, one for the chapter, and the arcbdea*> 
oons ; but to the king, every clergyman is there 

2. We have nothing so nearly expresses the power 
of a convocation, in respect of a parliament, as a 
oourt-leet, where they have a power to make bye«» 
laws, as they c^l them-^as that a man shall put so 
many cows or sheep in the common : but they can 
make nothing that is contrary to. the laws of the 



Athanasius'fl creed is the shortest — take away the 
preface, and the force, and the conclasion-^which 
are not part of the creed. In the Nicene creed it is 
(If ffxxXij0-ia», "I believe in the charch ;" but now, as 
onr Common Prayer has it, *' I believe one catholic 
and apostolic charch.** They lilce not creeds, because 
they would have no forms of faith, as they have 
none of prayer, though there be more reason for the 
one than for the other. 


1. If the physician sees you eat any thing that is 
not good for your body, to keep you from it, he cries, 
" It is poison :*' if the divine sees you do any thing 
that is hurtful for your soul, to keep you from it^ he 
cries, ** Yon are damned." 

2. To preach long, loud, and damnation, is the 
way to be cried up : we love a man that damns us, 
and we run after him again to save us. If a man had 
a sore leg, and he should go to an honest judicious 
chirurgeon, and he should only bid him keep it warm, 
and anoint with such an oil, an oil well known, that 
would do the cure ; haply, he would not much re- 
^rd him, because he knows the medicine before* 
hand an ordinary medicine : but if he should go to 
a surgeon that should tell him, ** Your leg will gao« 
grene within three days, and it must be cut off, and 
yon will die, unless you do something that I could 
tell you ;" what listening there would be to this 
man ! ** O, for the Lord's sake, tell me what this 
U i I will give you any content for your puns/' 



1. Why have we none possessed with devils in 
England ? The old answer is, the Protestants the 
devil hath already, and the Papists are so holy, he 
dares not meddle with them. Why then, beyond 
seas, where a nnn is possessed, when a Hogonot 
comes into the church, does not the deidl hunt them 

' ont ? The priest teaches him, yon never saw the 
devil throw up a nun's coats ; mark that, the priest 

' will not suffer it, for then the people will spit at 

2. Casting out devils is mere juggling ; they never 
cut out any but what they first cast in : they do it 
where, for reverence, no man shall dare to examine 
it ; they do it in a comer, in a mortice-hoIe, not in 
the marlcet-place : they do nothing but what may 
be done by art ; they make the devil fly out of the 
window, in the likeness of a bat or a rat. Why do 
they not hold him ? Why, in the likeness of a bat, 
or a rat, or some creature.' that is, why not in 
some shape we paint him in, with claws and horns? 
By this trick they gain mucli, gain upon men's 
fancies, and so are reverenced ; and certainly, if the 
priest deliver me from him that is my moA deadly 
enemy, I have all the reason in the world to reve- 
rence him. Olifecthn. But if this be juggling, why 
do they punish impostures ? Aniwer. For great 
reason ; because they do not play their part Well, and 
for fear others should discover them ; and so all of 
them ought to be of the same trade.' 

3. A person of quality came to my chamber In tbe 
Temple, and told me he had two devils in lus betd^ 


(I wondered what he meant) and, jast at that time, 
one of them bid him Isill me.. With that I began to 
be afraid, and thonghtlie was mad« He said'he knew 
! could cure -him, and therefore entreated me to 
give him something, for he was resolved he would 
go to nobody else. I perceiving what an opinion he 
had of me,, and that it was only melancholy that 
troubled him, took him in hand, warranted him, if 
hie would follow my directions, to cure him in a 
short time : I desired him to let me be alone about an 
hour, and then to come again — ^which he was very 
willing to. In the mean time, I got a card, and 
wrapped it up handsome in a piece of taffata, 
and put strings to the tafiata; and, when he came, 
gave it to him, to hang about his neck ; withal 
charged him, that he should not disorder him- 
self, neither with eating or drinking, but eat very 
little of supper, and say his prayers duly when 
he went to bed ; and I made no question but he 
would be well in three ox four days. Within that 
time I went to dinner to his house, and asked 
him how he did ? He said he was much better, 
but not perfectly well, for, in truth, h^ had not dealt 
clearly with me ; he had four devils in his head^ 
and he perceived two of them were gone, with that 
which I had given him, but the other two troubled 
him still. " Well," said I, " I am glad two of 
them are gone ; I make no doubt to get aw^y th,e 
other two likewise." So I gave him another thing 
to hang about his neck. . Three days after he came 
to me to my chamber, and professed he was now as 
well as ever he was in his life, and did extremely 
thank me for the great care I had taken of him. I, 
feuriDglest he might relapse into the like distemper^ 



told htm that there was none but myself, and -oae \ 
phys>iciaii more in the whole town that could cure the 
devils in the head, and that was Di;. Harvey, (whom 
1 had prepared) and wished him, if ever he found 
himself ill in my absence, to go to him, for he could 
cure his disease as well as myself. The gentleman 
lived many years^ and was never troubled after. 


It is4nuch the doctrine of the times that men 
should not please themselves, but deny themselves 
every thing they take delight in; not look upon 
beauty, wear no good clothes, eat no good meat, 
&c. which seems the greatest accusation that can be 
upon the Maker of all good things. U they be not 
to be used, why did God make them ? The truth 
IS, they 'that preach against them, cannot make use 
of them themselves ; and then again they get esteem 
by seeming to contemn them. But, mark it, while 
you live, if they do not please themselves as much as 
they can ; and we live more by example than pre- 


1. A duel may still be granted in some cases by 
the law of England, and only there : that the church 
- allowed it anciently, appears by this; in their public 
liturgies, there were prayers appointed for the 
duelists to say ; the judge used to bid them go to 
such a church and pray, &c. But whether is this ^ 
lawful ? If you grant any war lawful, I make no 
doubt but to convince it. Wai* is lawful, because 


God 18 the ODiy judge between two, that is sopreme. 
Now, if a difference happen between two subjects, 
and it cannot be decided "by hamau testimony, why 
may not they put it to God to jndge between them 
by the permission of the prince ? Nay, what if we 
should bring it down, for argument's sake, to the 
swordmen. One gives me the lie ; it is a great dis- 
grace to take it ; the law has piade no provision to 
^ve remedy for the injury; (if you can suppose any 
thing an injury for whicli the law gives no remedy) 
why am not I, in this case, supreme, and may, 
therefore, right myself? 

2. A duke ought to fight with a gentleman. The 
reason is this : the gentleman will say to the duke, 
*' It is true, you hold a higher place in the state 
than I ; there is a great distance between yoti and 
me — ^but your dignity.does not privilege you to do 
me an injury: as soon as ever you do me an 
injury, you make yourself my equal ; and as you 
are my equ^l, I challenge you :" and in sense 
the duke is bound to answer him. This will give 
you some light to understand the quarrel betwixt a 
prince and his subjects : though there be a vast 
-distance between him and them, and they are to 
obey him, according to their contract, yet he hath 
no power to do them an injury ; then they think 
themselves as much bound to vindicate their right, 
as they are to obey his lawful commands, nor is 
there any other measure of justice 'left upon earth 
but arms. 


An epitaph must be made fit for the person for 
whom it is made : for a man to say all the excellem 



things that can be said npon one, and call that his 
cf^tapb, is as if a painter should make the hand- 
somest piece he can possibly raalce, and say it was 
my picture. It holds in a fdneral sermon. 


1. Equity in law is the same that the spirit is in 
religion, what every one pleases to make it j some- 
times they go according to conscience, sometimes 
according to law, sometimes according to the rale 
of court. 

2. Equity is a roguish thing ; for law we have a 
measure — know what to trust to ;. equity is accord* 
ing to the conscience of bim that is chancellor, and 
as that is larger or narrower, so is equity. It is all 
one as if they should make the standard for the 
measure we call a foot, a chancellor's foot; what an 
uncertain measure would this be ! One chancellor 
has a long foot, another a short foot, a third an in- 
different foot : it is the same thing in the chancel- 
lor's conscience. 

3. That saying, " Do as you would be done to/' 
is often misunderstood ; for it is not thus meant-— 
that I, a private man, should do to you, a private 
man, as I would have you do to me, but do as we 
have agreed to do one to another by public agree- 
ment. If the prisoner should ask the judge, whe- 
ther he would be contented to be hanged, were he 
in his case, he would answer — ^No : Then, s^ys the 
prisoner, do as you would be done to. Neither of 
them mudt do as private men, but the judge most 
do by him as they have publicly agreed-^hat is. 


both judge and prisoDer hate consented to a law^ 
that if either of them steal, they shall be hanged. 


1. He that speaks ill of another, commonly before 
he is aware, makes himself such a one as he speaks 
agaust; for, if he had civility or breeding^ he 
would forbear such kind of language. 

2. A gallant man is above ill words : an example 
we have in the old lord of Salisbury, who was a 
great wise man. Stone had called some lord about 
court, fool; the lord complains, and has Stone 
whipped : Stone cries, *' I might have called my lord 
of Salisbury fool often enough, before he would have 
had me whipped." 

3. Speak not ill, of a great enemy ; but rather 
g^ve him good words, that he may use you the bet- 
ter, if you chance to fall into his hands. The 
Spaniard did this when he was dying ; his confessor 

«told him, to work him to repentance, how the 
devil tormented the wicked that went to hell : the 
Spaniard replying, called the -devil my lord. '* I 
hope my lord the devil is not so cruel :" his con* 
fesflor reproved him. '* £xcuse me," said the Don, 
** for calling him so: I know not into what hands I 
may fall ; and if I happen into his, I hope he will 
use me the better for giving him good words." 


1. That place they bring for excommunicatioit^ 
*' Put away from among yourselves that wicked per- 
son/' 1 Cor< V. 13, is corrupted in the Greek; for it 


should be, to To»i}g9», *' put away that evil fh>tii ainon§f 
you ;" not ro» 9ro»>i^o», ** that evil person ;" besides, 
i xovn^g is the deoiJ in Scripture, and it may be so 
taken there ; and there is a new edition of Theo- 
doret comfe out, that has it right, ro irovijfoy. It is 
true, the Christians, before the civil state became 
Christian, did, by covenant and agreement set down 
how they sluould live ; and he that did not observe 
what they agreed upon, should come no more 
amongst them ; that is, be excommunicated. Such 
men are spoken of by the apOKtle, Rom. i. 31, whom 
he calls oktwUtwc xai a0-To»So^f, the Vulgate has it, 
incompositos, et sinefasdere; the last word is pretty 
well, but the first not at all. Origen, in his book 
against (iel8us, speaks of the Christians' awBrjxn : 
the translation renders it cofwentiM, as it signifies a 
meeting; when it is plain it signifies a covenant; 
and the English Bible turned, the other word well — 
covenant-breakers. Pliny tells us, the Christians 
took an oath amongst themselves to live thus and 

2. The other place, </i<?«cc/Mt/r, "tell the church," 
is but a weak ground to raise excommunication 
upon, especially from the sacrament — the lesser 
excommunication ; since, when that was spoken, 
the sacrament waa instituted. The Jews' ecclesia 
was their sanhedrim, tlieir court ; so that the mean- 
ing is, if after once or twice admonition this brother 
will not be reclaimed, bring him thither. 

3. The first excommunication was one hundred 
and eighty years after Christ, and that by Victor, 
bishop of Rome : but that was no more than thi»— 
that they should communicate and receive the sacra- 
ment amongst themselves, not with those of the 


Other opiniOD ; the controversy, as I'take it, being 
about the feast of Easter. Men do not care for ex* 
couimanication, because they are shut out of the 
church, or delivered up to Satan, but because the 
law of the kingdom takes hold of them : after so 
many days a man cannot sue, no, not for his wife, 
if you take her from him ; and there may be as 
much reason to grant it for a small fault, if there be 
contumacy, as for a great one : in Westmlnster- 
hall you may outlaw a man for forty shillings, 
which is their excommunication, and you can do no 
more for forty thousand pounds. 

4. When Constantine became Christian, he so fell 
in love with the clergy, that he let them be judges 
of aH things ; but that continued not above three or ' 
four years, by reason they were to be judges o£ 
matters they understood not, and then they were 
allowed to meddle with nothing but religion ; all 
jurisdiction belonged to him, and he scanted them 
out as much as he pleased ; and so things have since 
continued. They excommunicate for three or four 
things — matters concerning adultery, tithes, wills, 
&c. which is the civil punishment the state allows 
for such faults. If a bishop excommunicate a man 
for what he ought not, the judge has power to ab- 
solve, and punish the bishop. If they had that 
jurisdiction. from- God, why does not the church ex- 
communicate for murder, for theft ? If the civil 
power might take away all but three things, why 
may they not take them away too ? If this excom- 
munication were taken away,, the presbyters would 
be quiet ; it is that they have a mind to, it is ,that 
they would fain be at, like the wench that was to 
be. married J she asked ber mother, when it was 


done, if she should go to bed presently ? No, says 
her mother, yoa must dine first. And then to bed, 
mother ? No, you must dance after dinner. And 
then to bed, mother ? No, you must go to supper. 
And then to bed, mother ? &c. 


It was an unhappy division that has been made 
between faith and works, though, ii;i my intellect, L 
may divide them ; just as in the candle, I know 
there is both light and heat : but yet put out the 
candle, and they are both gone — one remains pot 
without the other : so it is betwixt faith and works ; 
nay, in a right conception, Jides est opuss if I believe 
a thing because I am commanded, that is opus. 


1. What the church debars us one day, she gives 
us leave to take out in another :^ first we fast, and 
then we feast ; first there is a Carnival, and then a 

2. Whether do human laws bind the conscience ? 
If they do, it is a way to ensnare : if we say they do 
not, we open the door to disobedience. Answer. In 
this case we must look to the justice of the law, and 
intention of the lawgiver. If there be no justice in 
the law, it is not to be obeyed ; if the intention of 
the lawgiver be absolute, our obedience must be so 
too. If the intention of the lawgiver enjoin a 
penalty, as a compensation for the breach of the 
law, I sin not if I submit to the penalty ; if it enjoin 
a penalty, as a future enforcement of obedience to 


the law, then ought I to observe it, which may be 
known by the often repetition of the law. The way 
of fasting is eiijoined unto them, who yet do not 
observe it. The law enjoins a penalty as an en- 
forcement to obedience; which intention appears 
by the often calling upon us to keep that law by the 
king, and the dispensation of the church to «uch as 
are not able to keep it--as young children, old folks, 
diseased men, &c. 


It 'hath ever been the way for fathers to bind 
their sons . to strengthen this by the law of the 
land, every one at twelve years of age, is to take the 
oath of allegiance in court^leets, whereby he swears 
obedience to the king. > 


The old law was, that when a man was fined, he 
was to be fined saivo conienemento, so as his coun- 
tenance might be safe ; taking countenance in th« 
same sense as your countryman does, when he says, 
*' If you will come unto my house, I will show you 
the best countenance I can ;" that is, not the best 
face, but the best entertainment. The meaning of 
the law was, that so much should be taken from a 
man, such a gobbet sliced off, that yet, notwith- 
standing he might live in the same rank and condi- 
tion he lived in before ; but now they fine men ten 
times more than they are worth. 




The PnritanSy who will allow do free will at ally 
but God does all, yet will allow the subject his liberty 
to do, or not to do, notwithstanding the king, the 
god upon earth. The Armiuians, who hold we 
have free will, yet say, when we come to the king, 
there must be all obedience, and no liberty to be 
stood for, 


1. The friars say they possess nothing; whose 
then are the lands they hold ? Not their superior's ; 
he hath vowed poverty as well as they : whose then ? 
To answer this, it was decreed they should say they 
were the pope's. And why must the friars be more 
perfect than the pope himself ? 

2. If there had been no friars, Christendom might 
have continued quiet, and things remained at a stay. 

3. If there had been no lecturers (which succeed 
the friars in their way) the church of England might 
have stood, and flourished at this day. 


Old friends are best. King James used to call for 
his old shoes ; they were easiest for his feet. 


1. They that say the reason why Joseph's pedi- 
gree is set down, and not Mary's, is, because the 


descent firom the mother is lost, and swallowed np, 
say something ; bat yet if a Jewish woman married 
T?lth a Gentile, they only took notice of the mother, 
not of the father ; bat tbey that say they were both 
of a tribe, say nothing ; for the tribes might many 
one with another, and the law against it was only 
temporary, in the time while Joshua was dividing 
the land, lest the being so long about it, there 
might be a confusion. 

2. That Christ was the son of Joseph is most ex- 
actljr tme ; for though he was the Son of God, yet, 
with the Jews, if any man kept a child, and brought 
him up, and called him i^on — he was taken for his 
«on ; and his land, if he had any, was to descend 
upon him ; and, therefore, the genealogy of Joseph 
is justly set down. 


1. What a gentleman is, it is hard with us to de- 
fine.. In other countries, he is known by his privi- 
leges ; in Westminster, hall, he is one that is re- 
puted one ; in the Court of Honour, he that hath 
arms. The king cannot make a gentleman of blood, 
(what have you said) nor God Almighty, but he can 
make a gentleman by creation. If you ask, which 
is the better of these two? civilly, the gentleman 
of blood; morally, the gentleman by creation may 
be the better ; for the other may be a debauched 
man, this a person of worth. 

2. Gentlemen have ever been more temperate in 
their religion than the common people, as having 
more reason, the others running in a hurry. In the 



liegianing of Christianity, tlie Tatbers writ amira 
getUeSt and eontra CfentUeg — ^tliey were all one : but 
after all were Christians, the better sort of people 
still vetsdned tho name of Gentilies, throughout the 
four provinces of the Roman empire; as gentii- 
bomme in French, geniilAuomo in Italian, gmUU- 
Aombre in Spanish, and gentleman in English : and 
they, no question, being persons of quality, kept up 
those feasts which we borrow from the Gentiles-— 
as Christmas, Candlemas, May-day, &c. condnoing 
what was not directly against Christianity, inddcli 
the common, people would never have endured. 


There are two reasons why these words, Juu$ 
ttutem transiens per medium eorum ibat, were about 
our old gold : the one is, because Riply, the alchy- 
mist, when he made gold in the Tower, the first 
time he found it, he spoke these words, per medhm 
, eorum, that is, per medium ignis et aulpkuris; the 
other, because these words were thought to be a 
charm; and that they did bind whatsoever they 
were written upon, so that a man could not take it 
away. To this leason I rather indine. 


The hall was the place where the great lord used 
to eat ; (wherefore else were the halls made so big ?} 
where he saw all bis servants and tenants about 
him : he eat not in private, except in time of sick- 
ness : when once he became a thing cooped up, all 


bis greatness was spoiled. Nay, the king himself 
Bsed to eat in the hall, and his lords^sat with him, 
and then he nnderstood men. 


1. There are two texts fur Christ's descending 
iatO'hell: the one, Psalm xvi. the other, Acts |i. 
where the Bible that was in use wlien the Thirty- 
nine Articles were made, has it helL But the Bible 
that wa« in qoeen Elizabeth's time, when the arti- 
cles were confirmed, reads it grave; and so it con* 
tinned till the New Translation in liing James's 
time, and then it is hell again. But by thi:^ we may 
gather the church of England declined, as much as 
they could, the descent ; otherwise they never would 
have altered the Bible. 

2* ** He descended into hell ;" this may be the 
interpretation of it. He may be dead and buried^ 
then his soul ascended into heaven. Afterwards, 
he descended again into hell, that is, into the grave, 
to fetch his body, and to rise again. The ground 
of this interpretation is taken from the Platonic 
learning, who held a metempsychosis ; ^nd when a 
Monl did descend from heaven to take another body, 
they called it Kocra/Sao-iv ng Admv, taking «8ii; for the 
lower world, the state of mortality. Now the first 
Christians many of them were Platonic philoso- 
phers, and no question spake sucU language as then 
was understood amongst them. To understand by 
hell the grave, is no tautology, because the creed 
first tells what Christ suffered, " he was crucified, 
dead, and buried ;" then it tells us what he did. 



** he descended into hell, the third day he rose 
again, he ascended, &c." 


They say the church imposes holydays ; there is' 
DO such thing, though the number of holydays is set 
down in some of our Common Prayer Books. Yet 
that has relation to an act of parliament, wliich 
forbids the Iceeping of any holydays in time of po- 
pery ; but those that are kept, are kept by the cus- 
tom of the country, and I hope you will not say the 
church imposes that. 


1. Humility is a virtue all preach, none practise, 
and yet every body ia content to hear. The master 
thinks it good doctrii^ for his servant, the laity for 
the clergy,^ and the clergy for the laity. 

2. There is humilitas quadam in vitio. If a man 
does not take notice of that excellency and perfectiou 
that is in himself, how can he be thankful to God, 
who is the author of ail excellency and perfection ? 
Nay, ^f a man hath too dieanan opinion of himself, 
it will render him unserviceable both to God and 

3. Pride may be allowed to this or that degree, 
else a man cannot keep up to his dignity. In gluttony 
there must be eating ; in drunkenness there must 
be drinking ; it is not the eating, nor it is not the 
drinkiug that is to be blamed, but the excess. So 
in pride. 



Idolatry is in a; man's own thought, not in the 
opinion of another. Put case> I bow to the altar, 
why ain I guiUy of idolatry, because a stander by 
thinks so ?. I am sure I do not believe the altar to 
be God, and the God I worship may be bowed to in 
all places, and at all times. 


1. God at the first gave laws to all mankind, but 
afterwards he gave peculiar laws to the Jews, which 
they were only to observe : just as we have the 
common law for all England ; and have some 
corporations, that, besides that, have peculiar laws 
and privileges to themselves. 

2. Talk what you will of the Jews, that they are 
pursed, they thrive wherever they come ; they are 
able to oblige the prince of their couutry by leuding 
him money ; none of them beg ; they keep together ; 
and for their being hated, my life for yours. Chris- 
tians hate one another as much. 


It is all one to me if I am told of Christ, or some 
mystery of Christianity, if I am not capable of un- 
derstanding, as if I am not told at all ; my ignorance 
is as invincible : and therefore it is vain to call 
their ignorance only invincible, who never were told 
of Christ. The trick of it is to advaupe the priest. 




whilst the church of Rome says a man must be told 
of Christ, by one thus and Ihds ordained. 


"1. The Papists talcing ai^ay the second command- 
ment, is not haply so horrid a thing, nor so unrea*> 
sonable amongst Christians as we make it : for the 
Jews conid mafa:e no figure of God, but they must 
commit idolatry, because he had talcen no shape ; but 
since the assumption of our flesh, we'know what 
shape to picture God in» Nor do I know why we 
may not make his image, provided we be snrewhat 
it is : as we say St. Luke took the picture of the 
Virgin Mary, and St. Veronica of our Saviour. 
Otherwise, it would be no honour to the king to 
make a picture, and call it the king's picture, when* 
it is nothing like him. 

2. Though the learned Papists pray not to images, 
yet it is to be feared the ignorant do ; as appears 
by that story of St* Nicholas in Spain. A country- 
man used to offer daily to St. Nicholas's image : at 
length by mischance the image was broken, and a 
new one made of his own plum-tree; after that the 
man forbore. Being complained of to his ordinary, 
he answered — ^it is true, he used to offer to the old 
image, but to the new he could not find in his heart, 
because he knew it was a piece of his own plum- 
tree. You see what opinion this man had of the 
image ;^ and to this tended the Rowing of their 
images, the twinkling of their eyes, the Virgin's 
milk, &c. Had they only meant representations, a 
picture would have done as well as these tricks. It 



may be with os in England they do not worship 
images ; because living amonst Protestants^ they are 
either laoghed oat of it, or beaten oot of it by shock 
of argument. 

3. It is a discreet way concerning pictures in 
churches, to set up no new. nor to pull down no 


They say imperial constitutions did only confirm 
the canons of the church ; but. that is not so^ for 
they inflicted punish men t, when the canons uetrer 
did ; viz, if a man converted a Christian to be a 
Jew, he was to forfeit his estate, and lose hia life. 
In Valentine's Novels it is sM-^Coniiat epkcopa 
/brum iegUfUB non habere, etjudicani taniumde rtf- 


Sir iCenelm Digby was several times taken and 
let go again, at last imprisoned in Winchester- 
house« 1 can compare him to nothing but a great' 
fish that we catch aud let go again, but still he will 
come to the but ; at last, therefore, we put hhn 
into some great pond for store. 


Fancy to yourself a man sets the city on fire at 
Cripplegate, and, that fire continues by means of 
others, till it comes to Whitefriars, and then he that 
began it would fain quench it; does not he deserve 


to be pnnished most that first set the city on fire ? 
So it^is with the incendiaries of the state. They that 
first set it on fire, (by monopolising, forest busi- 
ness, imprisoning parliament men, tertio Caroli, 
&c.) are now become regenerate, and would fiun 
quench the fire : certainly they deserved most to be 
punished, for being the first cause of our distrac- 


1. Independency is in use at Amsterdam, where 
forty churches or congregations have nothing to do 
one with another : and it is no question agreeable to 
the primitive times, before the emperor became Chris- 
tian : for either we must say every church governed 
itself, or else, we must fall upon that old foolislr 
rock, that St. Peter and his successors governed all ; 
but when the civil state became Christian, they ap- 
pointed who should govern them, before they go- 
verned by agreement and consent. If you will not 
do this, you shall come no more amongst jis ; bat 
both the Independent man, and the Presbyterian 
man, do equally exclude the civil power, though 
after a different manner. 

2. The Independent may as well plead, they 
should not be subject to temporal things, not come 
before a constable, or a justice of peace, as they 
plead theyshoiild not be subject in spiritual things; 
because St. Paul says — " Is it so, that there is not 
a wise man amongst yon ?" 

3. The pope challenges all churches to be under 
him ; the king and the two archbishops challenge 
all the church of England to be under them. The 


Presbyterian man divides the kingdom into as many 
churches as there be presbyteries, and your Inde- 
pendent would have every congregation a church by 


In time of a parliament, when things are under 
debate, they are indifferent ; but in a church or state 
settled, there is nothing left indifferent. 


All might go well in the commonwealth, if every 
one in the parliament would lay down his own in- 
terest, and aim at the general good. If a man were 
sick, and the whole college of physicians should 
come to him, and administer severally, haply so long 
as they observed the rules of art he might recover ; 
but if one of them had a great deal of scammony by 
him, he must put off that, therefore he prescribes, 
scammony ;. another had a great deal of rhubarb, 
and he must put off that, and therefore he prescribes 
rhubarb, &c. — they would certainly kill the man. 
We destroy the commonwealth, while we preserve 
our own private interests, and neglect the public. 


I. You say there must be no human invention in 
the church, nothing but the pure word. Ansuo^ If 
I give any exposition, but what is expressed in the 
text, that is my invention : if you give another ex- 


poettioo, that i» your iDventloD, and both are ho- 
man. For example, sappose the word egg were in 
the testy I say, it is meant an hen-egg ; you say, a 
gOose>egg. Neither of these are expressed, there- 
fore they are haman inventions ; and I am sure the 
newer the invention the worse ; old inventions are 

2. If we must admit nothing but what we read in 
the Bible, what will become of the parliament ? 
For we do not read of that there. 


We cannot tell what is a judgment of God ; it is 
presumption to take upon us to know. In time of 
plague we know we want health, and therefore we 
pray to God to give us health ; in time of war we 
know we want peace, and therefore we pray to God 
to give us peace. Commonly we say a judgment 
falls upon a man for something in him we cannot 
abide. An example we have in king James, con- 
cerning the death of Henry the Fourth of France ; 
one said he was killed for his wenching, another 
said he was killed for turning his religion. ** No,** 
says king James, (who coald not abide fighting) 
'< he was killed for permitting duels in his king* 


1. We see the pageants in Cfaeapsidej the lions, 
and the elephants, but we do not see the men 
that carry them ; we see the judges look big, look 
tike lions, but we do not see who moves them. 

8BL1»KIANA. 69 

2. Little things do great works, tirhen great things 
will not. If I should take from' the ground, a 
little pair of tongs will do it, when a great pair Tdll 
not. Go to a judge to do a business for you, by no 
meai)s he will not hear of it ; but go to some small 
serrant about him, and he will despatch it accord- 
ing to your heart's desire. 

3. There could be no mischief done in the com- 
monwealth without a judge. Though there be false 
dice brought in at the groom-porters, and cheating 
offered, yet, unless he allow the cheating, and 
judge the dice to be good^ there may be hopes of fair 


It is not juggling that is to be blamed, but 
much juggling, for the world cannot be governed 
without it. All your rhetoric, and all your elenchs 
in logic, oome within the compass of juggling. 


1 . There is no such thing as spiritual jurisdiction ; 
all is civil ; the church's is the same with the lord 
mayor's. Suppose a Christian came into a Pagan 
country, how can you fancy he shall have any 
power there ? He finds faults with the fsods of the 
country $ well, they put him to death for it ; when 
he is a martyr, what follows ? Does that argue he 
lias any spiritual jurisdiction? .If the clergy say 
the church ought to be governed thus and thus, by 
the word of God> that is doctrinal, that is not 


2. The pope he challeDges jurisdiction over sdl ; 
the bishops they preteod to it as well as he ; the 
Presbyterians they would have it to themselves : 
but over whom is all this ? The poor laynlen. 


1. All things are held byjui divinum, either im- 
mediately or mediately. 

2. Nothing has lost the pope so much in his su- 
premacy, as not aclcnowledging what princes gave 
him. It is a scorn upon the civil power, and an no- 
thankfulness in the priest. But the church runs to 
Ju9 divinum, lest if they should acknowledge what 
they have by positive laws it might be as well taken 
from them as given to them. 


1. A1(ing is aahing men have made for their 
own sakes, for quietness sake : just as in a family 
one man is appointed to buy the meat ; if every man 
should buy, or if there were many buyers^ they 
would never agree ; one would buy what the other 
liked notj or what the other had bought before ; so 
there would be a confusion. -But thatcharge being 
committed to one, he, according to his discretion, 
pleases all ; if they have not what they would have 
one day, they shall hare it the next, or something 
as good. 

2. The word king directs our eyes. Suppose it 
had been consul, or dictator : to tliink all kings 
alike is the same folly, as if a consul of Aleppo or 
Smyrna should claim to himself the same power 


as a consul at Rome, What, am not I a consul ? 
Or a duke of England should think himself like the 
duke of Florence ; nor can it be imagined, that the 
wore B»<riKtus did signify the same in Greek, as the 
Hebrew word ^n did with the Jews. Besides, let 
the divines in their pulpits say wliat they will, they 
in their practice deny that all is the king's. They 
4ne iiim, and so does all the nation, whereof they 
are apart. What matter is it then, what they preach 
or teach in the schools ? 

3. Kings- are all individual, this or that king: 
there is no f^pecies of kings. 

4. A king that-claims privileges in his own coun- 
try, because they have them in another, is just as 
a cook, tliat claims fees in one lord's house, be* 
cause they are allowed in another. If the master of 
the house will yield them, well and good. 

5. The text, ** Render unto Caesar the things that 
are C^sar*s,'* makes as much against kings as for 
them, for it says plainly that some things are not 
Caesar's. But divines make choice of it, fii'st in flat- 
tery, and then because of the other part adjoined to 
it, *< Render unto God the things that are God's," 
where they bring in the church. 

6. A king outed of his country, that t^kes as 
much upon. him as he did at home, in his own 
court, is as if a man on high, and I being upon the 
ground, used to lift up my voice to him, that he 
might hear me ; at length should come down, and 
then expects I should speak as loud to him as I did 



1. The ktDg can do no wrong; that is, no pro- 
cess can be granted against him : what must be 
done then? Petition him, and the Icing writes 
upon the petition toii droit /ait, and sends it to the 
Chanceiy; and then the business is heard. His 
confessor will not tell him he can do no wrong. 

2. There is a great deal of diftrence betweea 
head of the church, and supreme governor, as onr 
canons call the king. Conceive it thus i there is in 
the kingdom of England a college of physidans; 
the king is supreme governor of those, but not head 
of them, nor president of the college, nor the best 

3. After the dissolution of abbeys, they did not 
much advance the king's supremacy, for they only 
cared to exclude the pope ; hence have we had se- 
veral translations of the Bible put upon us. But 
now we must look to it, otherwise the king may put 
upon us what religion he pleases.- 

4. It was the old way when the king of England 
had his house, there were canons to sing service in 
his chapel ; so at Westminster, in St. Stephen's 
chapel, where the house of commons sits, from 
which canons the street called Canon-row has its 
name, because they lived there; and he had also 
the abbot and bis monks, and adl these the king's 

5. The ^ree estates are the lords temporal, the 
bishops or the clergy, and the commons, as some 
would have it ; (take heed of that) for then, if two 
agree, the third is involved, but be is king of the 
three estates. 


ۥ The king hath a seal in ereiyconrt; and 
though the great seal be called iigillum AngluE, 
the great seal of England ; yet it is not because it 
is the kingdom's seal, and not the king's ; but to 
distingnish it from sigUlum Hibernian aigiUum 

7. The conrt of England is much altered. At a 
solemn dancing, first yon had the gi-are measures, 
'then the courantoes and the galliards ; and this is 
kept np with ceremony: at length, to French- 
more, and the cushion-dance; and then all the 
company dance, lord and groom, lady and kitchen- 
maid, no distinction. So in onr court, in queen 
Eiizsheth's time, gravity and atate were kept up : 
io king James':} time, things were pretty well : but 
in king Charles's time, there has been nothing but 
French- more and the cnshiou-dance^ omnium ga^ 
(herum, tolly, poily, hoite*come-toite. 


U It is hard to make an accommodation between 
the king and the parliament. If you and I fell out 
about money — you said I owed you twenty poupds, 
I said I owed you but ten pounds — ^it may be, a 
third party, allowing me twenty marks, might make 
ua friends. But if I said I owed you twenty pounds 
in silver, and you said I owed you twenty pounds in 
diamonds, which is a sum iBanmerable,it is impos- 
idble we should ever agree. This is the case. 

2. The king using the house of commons, as he 
did in Mi\ Pym and his company, that is, charging 
them with treason, because they charged my lord of 
Canterlrary and sir Oeoi^ RatdiiT; it was Just 


with atf much logic, as the boy, that would Imre 
lain with his' grandmother, used to his -father: 
** You lie with my mother, why should not I lie wiih 

3. There is not the same reason for the king's 
accusing men of treason, and carrying them sway, 
as there is for the houses tliemselres, because they 
accuse one of themselves : for every one that is 
accused, is either a peer or a commoner, and he 
that is accused hath his consent going along with 
him ; but if the l^ing accuses, there is nothing of 
this in it. 

4. The king is equally abused now as before : 
then they flattered him and made him do all things ; 
now they would force him against his conscience. 
If a physician should tell me, every thing I had a 
xoiud to was good for me, though in truth it was 
poison, he abused me ; and he abuses me as much, 
that would force me to talce something whether I 
will or no. 

5. The icing, so long as he is our Icing, may do 
with his officers what he pleases ; as the master of 
the house may turn away all his servants, and take 
whom he please. 

6. Tlie king's oath is not security enough for our 
property, for he swears to govern according to law. 
Now the judges they interpret the law, fmd. what 
judges can be made to do we know. 

' 7. The king and the parliament now falling out, 
are just as when there is foul play offered amongst 
gamesters : one snatches, the other's stake ; they 
seize what they can of one another*s. It is not to 
be asked whether it belongs not to the king to do 
this or that : before^ when there was fair play, it 


did ; but now they will do what is most coDTenieot 
for their owd safety. If two fall to scufBing, one 
tears the other's band^ the other tears his ; when 
they were friends they were quiet, and did no snch 
thing ; they let one another's bauds alone. 

8. The king calling his friends from the parlia- 
ment, because he had use of them at Oxford, iaias 
if a man should ha?e use of a little piece of wood, 
and he runs down into the cellar, and takes the 
spigot ; in the mean time, all the beer runs about 
the house. When his friends are absent, the king 
will be lost. 


Knights* service, in earnest, means nothing; for 
the lords are bound to wait upon the king when he 
goes to war with a foreign enemy, with, it may be, 
one man and one horse ; and he that doth not, is to 
be rated so much as shall seem good to the next 
parliament ; and what will that be ? So it is for a 
private man, that holds of a gentleman. 


1. When men did let their land underfoot, the 
tenants would fight for their landlords, so that 
vnj they had th«ir retribution ; but now they will 
do nothing for them : may be the first, if but a con- 
stable bid them, that shall lay the landlord by the 
heels ; and therefore it is vanity and folly not to 
take the full value. 

2. Allodium is a law word contrary to feudum, 
and it signifies land that holds of nobody. We have 
no snch land in England. It is a true proposition^ 
all the land in England is held, either immediately 
or mediately, of the king. 



1. To a living tongue new words may be added, 
but not to a dead toogue, as Latin, Greek, Htm 
brew, &c. 

2. Latimer is the cormption of Latmer; it signi- 
fies be that interprets Latin : and though he inter- 
preted French, Spanish, or Italian, he was called the 
king's Laimer, that is, the king's interpreter. 

3. If you look upon the language spokea in the 
Saxon tioie, and the language spoken now, yoD will 
find the difference to be just as if a man hsui a cloak 
that he wore plain in queen Elizabeth's days, and 
since, here has put in a piece of red, and there a 
piece of blue, and here a piece of green, and there a 
piece of orange tawny. We borrow words from the 
French, Italian,Latin,;as every pedantic man pleases. 

4. We have more words than notions ; half a 
a^dozen words for the same thing : sometimes we 
put a new signification to an old word, as when we 
call a piece a gun. The word gun was in use in 
England for an engine to cast a thing from a man, 
long before there was any gunpowder found out. 

5. Words roust be fitted to a man's mouth. It was 
well said of the fellow that was to make a apeecli 
for my l^rd mayor, he desired to take measure of 
his lordship's mouth. 


1. A man may plead not guilty, and yet tell no 
lie ; for by the law no man is bound to aeense- him- 
sdf 1 so that when I say, notguUiff^ the meaning is, 
as if I should say by way of paraphrase, I am not so 
guilty as ta tell you ; if you will bring me to a trial. 


imd have me punished for this yon lay toiay charge, 
prove k agaiust me. 

2. Ignorance of the law excuses no man ; not 
that all men know the law, but because it is an ex- 
cuse every man will plead, and no man can tell how 
to confute him. 

3. The king of Spain was outlawed in WestmTu- 
ater-hall, I being of counsel against him : a mer- 
chant had recovered costs against him in a suit, 
which because he could not get, we advised to have 
him outlawed for not appearing, and so he was : 
as soon as Gondimer heard that, he presently sent 
the money, by reason, if his master had been out- 
lawed, he could not have the benefit of the law ; 
which would have been very prejudicial, there being 
then many suits depending betwixt the king of 
Spain atid our English merchants. 

4. Every law is a contract between the king and 
the people, and therefore to be kept. A hundred 
men may owe me a hundred pounds, as well as 

' any one man, and shall they not pay me because 
they are stronger than I ? Object, O, but they 
lose all if they keep that law. Anno, Let them look 
to the making of their bargain. If I sell my lands, 

' and when I have done, one comes and tells me, I 
have nothing else to keep me ; I, and my wife, and 
children, must starve, if I pan with my land — must 
I not, therefore, let them have my land that have 
bought it and paid for it ? 

&• T*he parliament may declare law, as well as 
any other inferior court may, viz, the king's bench. 
Id that or this particular case, the king's bench will 

' declare unto you what the law is ; but that binds 
nobody whom the case concerns t so the highest 


court) the parliament, may do, but not declare law ; 
that Uy make law that was never heard of before. 


I cannot fancy to myself what the law of nature 
means, bat the law of God : how should I know I 
ought not to steal, I ought not to commit adaltery, 
unless somebody had told me so<? surely it is be- 
cause I have been told so : it is not because I think 
I ought not to do them, nor because you think I 
ought not ; if so, our minds might change. Whence 
then comes the restraint? from a higher power; 
nothing else can bind. I cannot bind myself, for I 
may untie myself again ; nor an equal cannot bind 
me, for we may untie one another. It mnst be a 
superior power, even God Almighty ! If two of us 
make a bargain, why should either of us stand to it ? 
what need you care what you say, or what need I 
care what I say? certainly, because there is some- 
thing about me that tells m^ fides est servaitda; 
and if we after alter our minds, and make a new 
bargain, there is fides servanda there too. 


1. No man is the wiser for his learning : it may 
administer matter to work in, or objects to work 
npoa ; but wit and wisdom are bom with a man. 

2. Most men*s learning is nothing but history 
duly taken up. If I quote Thomas Aquinas for some 
tenet, and believe it, because the schoolmen say 
so, that is but history. Few men make themselves 
masters of the things they write or speak. 

3. The Jesuits and the lawyers of France, and 


tHe Low Countrymen, have engrassed all learning : 
the rest of the world make nothing hot Immilies. 

4. It is observable, that in Athens, where the 
arts flourished, they were governed by a democracy : 
learning made them think themselves as wise as -any 
body, and they would govern as well as others ; and 
they spake, as it were by way of contempt, that in 
tlie east and in the north they had kings ; and why ? 
because the most, part of them followed their busi« 
oess ; and if some one man had made himself wiser 
than the rest, he governed them, and they willingly 
submitted themselves to him. Aristotle makes the 
observation. And as in Athens the philosophers 
made the people knowing, and therefore they, 
thought them.Melves wise enough to govern ; so does 
preaching with us, and that makes us affect a de* 
Hiocracy : for upon these two grounds we all would 
be .governors ; either because we think ourselves as 
wise as the best, or because we think ourselves the 
elect, and have the spirit, and the rest a company 
of reprobates that belong to the devil. 


1. Lecturers do in a parish church what the 
liriars did heretofore, get away not only the affec- 
tions, bnt the bounty, that should be bestowed upon 
the minister. 

2. Lecturers get a great deal of money, because 
they preach the people tame, as a man watches a 
hawk ; and then they do what they list with them. 

3. The.lectures in Blackfriars, performed by offi- 
cers of the army, tradesmen, and ministers, is as it' 
a great lord should make a feast, and he would have 

80 tXLnENlANA. 

his cook dress one dish^ and his coachman another^ 
his porter a third, &c. 


Though some may make slight of libels, yet yon 
may see by them how the wind sits : as take a straw, 
and throw it ap into the air, yon shall see by that 
which way the wind is, which yoa shaH not do by 
easting up a stone : more solid things do not show 
the complexion of the times so well as ballads and 


1. There is no church without a liturgy, nor in- 
deed can there be conveniently, as there is no school 
without a grammar. One scholar may be taught 
otherwise upon the stock of his acumen, but not a 
whole school t one or two that are piously dis- 
posed, may serve themselves their own way, but 
hardly a whole nation. 

2. To know what was generally believed in all 
in all ages, the way is to consult the liturgies, not 
any private man's writings : as if you would know 
how the church of England serves God, go to the 
Common Prayer Book, consult not this nor that 
man : besides, liturgies never compliment, nor use 
high expressions.' The fathers oftcimes speak ora- 


1.. The lords giving protection is a scorn upon 
them : a protection means nothing actively, but pas- 
sively i he that is a servant to a parliament man is 

SELDtiNlANA. 81 

thereby protected. What a scorn is it to a pefson of 
honour to pnt his hand to two lies at once, that 
snch a man is my servant^ and employed by me, 
when haply he never saw the man in his llfe^ nor 
before never heard of him ! 

2. llie lords' protesting is foolish : to protest is 
properly to save to a man's self some right ; but to 
protest as the lords protest, when they themselves 
are involved, it is no more than if I should go into 
Smithfield, and sell my horse, and take the money ; 
and yet when I have your money, and yon my horse, 
I should protest this horse is mine, because I love 
the horse, or I do not Itnow why I do protest, be- 
cause my opinion is contrary to the rest. Ridiculous, 
when they say the bishops did anciently protest ! it 
was only dissenting, and that in the case of the 


1. Great lords, by reason of their flatterers, are 
the first that know their own virtues, and the last 
that know their own vices : some of them are 
ashamed upwards, because their ancestors were too 
great; others are ashamed downwards, because 
they were too little. 

2. The prior of St. John of Jerusalem is sdd to 
toe primus baro Anglkg, the first baron of England^ 
because being last of the spiritual barons, he chose 
to be first of the temporal : be was a kind of an ot* 
ter, a knight half spiritual, and half tempOr^. 

3. Quest, Whether is every baron a baron of some 
plaioe ? Afuw, It is aooording to his patent : of late 
years they have been made barons of some plaoe8> 

E 2 


bnt ancieutlfDot ; called oolf by their sornamey or 
the sarDameof some fouiily into which they have 
been married. 

4. The making of new lords lessens all the rest. 
It is ill the business of lords, as it was with St. Nk 
£holas's image : the countryman, you know, conld 
not find in his heart to adore the new image, made 
of his own plum-tree, though he had formerly wor- 
shipped the old one. The lords that are ancient we 
lionour, because we know not whence they come ; 
bnt the new ones we slight, because we know their 

5. For the Irish lords to take upon them here ia 
England, is as if the cook in the fair should cone to 
my lady Kent's kitchen, and take upon him to roast 
the meat there, because he is a cook in another 


' 1. Of all actions of a man's life, his marriage does 
least concern other people ; yet of all actions of our 
life it is Biost meddled with by other people. 
' 2. Marriage is nothing but a civil contract : it is 
true, it is an ordinance of God : so is every other 
contract : God commands me to keep it when I have 
made it. 

3. Marriage ia a desperate thing. The frogs in 
ifisop were extreme wise ; they had a great mind to 
•ome water, but they would not leap into the well^ 
because they could not get out again. 
'4; We single out particulars, and apply God's 
providence to them : thus when two are married 
9fid have undone one another, they cry, *' It was 


Qod*a proridenoe we should come together/'— when 
God's providence does equally coocar to every thing, 


Some men forbear to marry eonsHi-germans out 
of this kind of scruple of conscience : because, it 
was nnlawfal before th^ reformation^ and is still in 
the church of J^me ; and so by reason their grand* 
father, or their great grandfather did not do it, 
upon that old score they think they ought not to do 
U ; as some men forbear flesh upon Friday, not re- 
fleeting upon the .statute, which with us makes it 
unlawful ; but out of an old score, because the church 
of Rome forbids it, and their forefathers always for* 
.|>ore flesh upon that day. Others forbear it out of a 
natural consideration ; because it is observed > for 
example, in beasts, if two couple of a near kind, the 
breed proves not so good ; the same. obaeiTattoa 
they make in plants and tree^ which degenerate be- 
ing grafted upon the same stock ; and it is also far** 
ther observed, those matches between connn-ger* 
mans seldom prove fortunate ; but for the lawful- 
ness there is no colour but cousin 'germans in Eng- 
land may marry, both by the law of God and man : 
for with us we have reduced all the degrees of mar- 
nage to those in the Levitical law, and it is plain 
there is nothing against it. As for that that is said^ 
oonsin-germans once removed may not marry ; and, 
therefore, being a farther degree may not, it is pre* 
sumed a nearer should not— no man can tell what it 


1. We measure from ourselves, and as things are 

84 mcDBinAitA, 

for ovr use and parpote, so we approfe tbem. 
Bring a pear to .the table that Is rotten, we cry it 
down, it U naught : but bring a medlar that is rot- 
ten, and it Is a inething ; and yet I'll warraot yon 
ttte pear thinks as well of itself as the medlar does. 

2. We measnre the ezoeUeney of other men by 
some excellency we conceive to be in onrselvesj*— 
Nash, a poet, poor enough, as poets used to be, 
seeing an alderman with his gold chain, npon his 
great horse, by wiqf of scorn said to one of his eom- 
panions, ** Do yon see yon fellow, how goodly, how 
big he loolcs? Why that fellow cannot make a 
blank verse." 

3. Nay, we measure the goodness of God from 
ourselves ; we measure his goodness, bis justice, 
his wisdom, by something we call just, good, or 
wise in ourselves; and in so doing, we judge pro- 
portionably to tlie country fellow in the play, who 
said, if he were a king, he would live like a lord, 
and have peas and bacon every day, and a whip 
that cried slash. 


The difference of men Is very great ; yon would 
scarce think them to be of the same species, and yet 
it consi>ts more in the affection than in the intel- 
lect. For as in the strength of body, two^men shalf 
be of an equal strength, yet one shall appear stronger 
than the other, because he exercises, and pnts out 
his strength ; the other will not stir nor strain 
himself; — so it is in the strength of the brain ; the 
one endeavours, and strains, and labours^ and stu- 
dies ; the other sits still, and is Idle, and takes no 

SfiliDBNlANA. 85 

paiiis, ud thtrsiore he appears so much the in* 


1. Tbe impositioD of hands upon the mioister^ 
when ail ia done, will be nothing but a designation 
of a person to this or that office, or employment ia 
the chnrch* It is a ridiculous phrase, that of the 
canonists, con/erre '4frdine8 ; it is, ctn^iare aUguem 
in ordinem, to make a man one of ns, one of our 
number, one of our order. So Cicero would under« 
stand what I said, it being a phrase borrowed from 
the Latin, and to be understood proporti6nably to 
what was amongst them. 

2. Those words you now^use in making a minis* 
ter, '* receive the Holy Ghost," were used amongst 
the Jews in making of a lawyer : from thenee we 
have them, which i^ a villanons key to something ; 
•8 if yon would have some other kind of prefatnre 
than a mayoralty, and yet keep the same eeremony 
that was used in making the mayor. 

3. A priest has no such thing as an indelible cha-^ 
neter: what difference do you find betwixt him 
and another man after ordiuation ? Only he is 
made a priest, as I said, by designation ; as a law- 
yer is called to the bar, then made a seijeant. AU 
men that would get power over others, make them- 
selves as unlike them as they can ; upon the same 
ground, the priests made themselves unlike the 

4. A minister when he is made is materia prima^ 
apt for any form the state will put upon him, but of 
himself he can do nothing. Like a doctor of law 


Ill the university, he hath a great deal of law in 
him^ bat cannot nse it till he be made somebody'fl 
chancellor; or like a physician, before he be re- 
ceived into a house, he can give nobody physic ; in- 
deed, after the master of the house hath given him 
charge of his servants, then he may : or lilce a suf- 
fragan, that could do. nothing bat give orders, and 
yet he was no bishop. 

5. A minister should preach according to the ar- 
ticles of religion established in the chorch where he 
is. To be a civil lawyer, let a man read Justinian, 
and the body of the law, to confirm his brain to that 
way ; but when he comes to practise, be must make 
use of it so far as it concerns the law received in his 
own counti^. To be a physician, let a man read 
Galen and Hippocrates ; but when he practises, he 
must apply his medicines according to the temper 
of those men's bodies with whom he lives, and have 
respect to the heat and cold of climes ; otherwise, 
that which in Pergamus, where Galen lived, was 
physic, in our cold climate maybe poison. Soto 
be a divine, let him read the whole body of di«. 
vinity, the fathers and the schoolmen ; but when he 
comes to practise, he must use it, and apply it ac- 
cording to those grounds and articles of religion 
that are established in the church, and this with 

6. There be four things a minister should be at; 
the conscionary part, ecclesiastical story, school di- 
vinity, and the casuists. 

I. In the conscionary part he must read all the 
chief fathers^ both Latin and Greek, wholly: St. 
Austin, St. Ambrose, St. Chrysdstom, both the 
Gregories, &c. Tertullian, Clemens Alezandrl- 


tms, and Epiphanias ; which last have more learn- 
ing in them than all the rest, and writ freely. 

II. For ecclesiastical stoi7, let hiija read Baronins, 
"With the Magdeborgenses, and be his own judge ; 
the one being extremely for the Papists, the other 
extremely against them. 

III. For school divinity, let him get Jayellns's 
edition of Scotns or Mayco, where there be qnotations 
that direct you to every schoolman, where such and 
aach questions are handled. WUhoat school divi-» 
Dtty, a divine Icnows nothing logically, nor will be 
able to satisfy a rational man out of the pulpit. 

IV. The study of the casuists must follow the 
atiidy of theschoolmen, because the division of their 
cases is according to their divinity ; otherwise he 
that begins with them will know little ; as he that be* 
gins with the study of the reports and cases in the 
4»mmon law, will thereby know little of the law. 
Casuists may be of admirable use, if discreetly dealt, 
with, thongh among them you shall have many 
leaves together very impertinent. A case well de** 
dded would stick by a man ;' they would remember 
it whether they will or no $ whereas, a quaint po- 
sition dieth in the birth. The main thing is to 
know where to search ; for talk what they will of 
vast memories, no man will presume upon bis own 
memory for any thing he means to write or speak in 

7," Go and teach all nations.'^ This was said 
to all Christians that then were, before the distinc<« 
tiou of clergy and laity : there have been since men 
designed to preach only by the state, as some men 
ttfe designed to study the law^ others to study phy- 


•le. When the Itord's Supper was institated, there 
were none present but the disciples; shall none 
then bat miuisters receive ? 

8. There is all the reason ypn should believe jonr 
mimater, unless you have studied divinity as well as 
he, or more than he. , 

9. It is a foolish thing to say ministers must not 
meddle with secular matters, because his own pro- 
fession will take up the whole man : may he not 
eat, or drink, or walk, or learn to sing ? The mean* 
ing of that is, he must seriously attend his calling; 

10. Ministers with the Papists, that is, their 
priests, have much respect; with the Puritans, 
they have much ; and that upon the sameground^- 
they pretend both of them to come immediately 
from Christ ; but with the Protestants, they have 
very little ; the reason whereof is, in the beginning 
of the reformation, they were glad to get such to 
take livings as they could procure by any invitations, 
things of pitiful condition. The nobility and gentry 
would not suffer their sons or kindred to meddle 
with the church, and therefore at this day, when 
they see a parson, they think him to be such a thing 
still, and there they will keep him, and use him ac- 
cordingly : if he be a gentleman,' that is singled out,' 
and he is used the-more respectfully. 

1 1. The protestant minister is least regarded, ap- 
pears by the old story of the keeper of the clink. He 
had priests of sevend sorts sent unto him : as they 
came in, he asked them who they were. ** Who are 
you ?" to the first. " I am a priest of the church of 
R(Hne." '' You are welcome,*' quoth the keeper; 
*Hhere are those will take care of yon." '^And whoare 

8S1.DEN1AK4* 89 

yoa?" *' A sUenced mioisler/' *' You are welcome 
too s I shall fare the better for you.*' ** And whoare 
yOQ ? " ''A minister of the chnrch of Eugland." " O 
God help me," qaoth the keeper, *' I shall get no- 
thing by yon, I am snre '; you may lie and starve, 
and rot, before any body will look after yon." 

12. Methinks it is an ignorant thing for a church- 
man to call himself the minister of Christ, because 
St. Paul, or the apostles, called themselves so. If 
one of them had a voice from heaven, as St. Pauk 
had, I will grant he is a minister of Christ, I will 
call him so too. . Must they take upon them as the 
apostles did ? Can they do as the apostles could ? 
The apostles had a mark to be known by, spake 
tongues, cured diseases, trod upon serpents, &c 
Can they do this ? If a gentleman tells me he viriU 
send bis man to tne, and I did not know his man, 
but he gave me this mark to know him by, he should 
bring in his hand a rich jewel ; if a fellow came to 
me with a pebble-stone, had I any reason to believe 
he was the gentleman's vxan ? 


1. Money makes a man laugh. A blind fiddler 
playing to a company, and playing but scurvily, the 
company laughed at him. His boy that led him, 
perceiving it, cried, '' Father, let us be gone, they do 
nothing but laugh at you." '* Hold thy peace, boy/' 
said the fiddler, ,'' we shall have their money pre« 
sently, and then we will laugh at them." 

2. Euclid was beaten in Boccjdine,* for teaching 

• See the Ragguaglia di Pammno* 


hiM scholars a mathematical figure in his school, 
whereby he showed, th'at all the lives both of princes 
and private men tended to one centre, con gerUi^ 
lezMa, handsomely to get money out of other aien's 
pockets, and it into their own. 

3. The pope used heretofore to send the princes 
of Christendom to fight against the Turk ; bnt 
prince and pope finely juggled together ; the monies 
were raised, and some men went out to the holy 
war ; but commonly after they had got the money^ 
the Turk was pretty quiet, and the prince and the 
pope shared it between th^m. 

4. In all times, the princes in England have done 
something illegal to get money ; but then came a 
parliament, and all was well ; the people aud the 
prince kissed and were friends, and so things were 
quiet for a while : afterwards, there was another 
trick found out to get money, and after they had 
got it, another parliament was called to sefall 
right, &c. But now they have so outrun the con- 
sta;)le • • • • • 


They that cry down moral honesty, cry down 
that which is a great part of religion — my duty to- 
wards God, and my duty towards man. What care 
I to see a man ruu after a sermon, if he cozen and 
cheat as soon as he comes home? On> the other 
side, morality must not be without religion ; for if 
so, it may change, as I see convenience. Religion 
must govern it. He that has not religion to govern 
his morality, is not a dram better than my mastiff 
dog ; so long as you stroke him and please him, and 

8BI,D£NIANil. 91 

'do not pinch hini, he will play with you as finely as 
may be ; he is a very good moral mastiff: but if you 
hurt him^ he will fly in your face, and tear out your 


In case I receive a thousand pounds, and mort- 
gage as much land as is worth two thousand to yOu, 
if I do not pay the money at such a day, I fsdl-^^ 
whether you may ta1(e my laud and keep it in point 
of conscience ? Anaw» If you had iny lands as secu- 
rity only for your money, then you are not to keep 
it ; hut if we bargained so, that if I did not repay 
your one thousand pounds, my laud should go for it, 
be it what it will, no doubt you may with a safe 
conscience keep it ; for in these things all the obli- 
gation is aervarefldem, 



• * » 

All those mysterious things they observe in num- 
bers, come to nothing, upon this very ground; be- 
cause number in itself is nothing, has not to do 
with nature, but is merely of human imposition; a 
mere sound : for example, when I cry one o'clock, 
two o'clock, three o'clock, that is but man's division 
of time ; the time itself goes on, and it had been 
all one in nature if those hours had been called nine, 
ten, and eleven. So when they say the seventh son 
is fortunate, it means nothing; for if you count 
from the seventh backwards, then the first is the 
, seventh: why is not he likewise fortunate ? 

^2 8BM>ENIAIfA. 


1. Swearing was another thiug with the Jews 
than with us, becaase they might not pronounce the 
name of the Lord Jehovah. 

2. There is no oath scarcely, but we swear to 
things we are ignorant of. For example, the oath 
of supremacy ; how many ktaow how the king is 
king ? What are his right and prerogative ? So 
how many know what are the privileges of the par- 
liament, and the liberty of the subject, when they 
take the protestation ? But the meaning is, they 
will defend them when they know them : as if I 
should swear I would take part with all that wear 
red ribbons in their hats — it may be I do not know 
which colour is red--~bnt when I do know, and. see a 
red ribbon in a man's hat, then will I take his 

3. I cannot conceive how an oath is imposed 
where there is a parity, viz, in the house of com- 
mons, they are all pares inter ae; only one brings 
paper, and shows it the rest, they look upon it, and 
in their own sense take it. Now they are but puree 
to me, who am none of the house, for I do not ac- 
knowledge myself their subject ; if I did, then 
no question, I was bound by an oath of their im- 
posing. It is to me but reading a paper in their 
own sense. 

4. There is a great difference between an assertory 
oath, and a promissory oath. An assertory oath is 
made to a man before God, and I must swear so, as 
man may know what I mean : but a promisory oath 
is juade to God only^ and I am sure he knows my 

nieaniug. £fo in the new oath it runs, << Whereas^ I 
believe in ipy conscience, &c. I will assist thns and 
thus." lliat *' whereas," gives me an outioose ; for ii 
I do not believe so, for anght I know, I swear not at all. 

5. In a promissory oath, the mind I am in is a 
good interpretation ; for if there be enough hap- 
pened to change my mind, T do not tcnowwhyi 
shoald not. If I promise to go to Oxford to. 
morrow, and mean it when 1 say it, and afterwards 
it appears to me that it will be my undoing, will 
you say I have broke my promise if I stay at home ? 
Certainly, T must not go. 

6. The Jews had this way with them concerning 
a promissory oath or vow : if one of them had vowed 
a vow, which afterwards appeared to him to be very 
prejudicial, by reason of something he either did not 
foresee, or did not think of, when he made his vow ;' 
if he made it known to three of his countrymen, 
they had power to absolve him, though he could 
not al)Solve himself, and that they picked out of 
some words in the text. Petjnry bath only to do 
with an assertory oath, and no man was punished 
for perjury by man's law till queen Elizabeth^s time ; 
it was left to God, as a sin against him : the reason 
was, because it was so hard a thing to prove a man 
perjured. I might misunderstand him, and ha 
swears as he thought. 

7. When men ask me whether they ma^ take an 
oath in their own. sense, it is to me, as if they 
should ask whether they may go to such a place 
upon their own legs ; I would fain know how they, 
can go otherwise. 

8. If the ministers that are in sequestered livings 
will not take the engagement, threaten to turn 


them out) and put in the old oneSy and then I will 
warraut you thej will quietly take it. A gentleman 
having been rambling two or three days, at length 
came home, and being in bed with bis wife, would 
fain have been at something, that she was nnwilling 
to, and instead of complying, fell to chiding him for 
bis being abroad so long. " Wiell," says he, *' if yon 
will not, call up Sue," (his wife's cbamberm^d). 
Upon that she yielded presently. 

9. Now oaths are so frequent, they should be 
taken like pills, swallowed whole; if yon chew 
them, you will find them bitter ; if yon think what 
you swear, it will hardly go down. 


Oracles ceased presently after Christ, as soon as 
nobody believed them ; just as we have no fortune- 
tellers, nor wise men, when nobody cares for them. 
Sometimes you have a season fur them, when people 
believe them ; and neither of these, I conceive, 
wrought by the devil. 


1. Opinion and affection extremely differ : I may 
affect a woman best, but it does not follow, I mast 
think her the handsomest woman in the world. I 
love apples best of any fruit ; but it does not follow, 
I must think apples to be the best fruit. Opinion is 
something wherein I go about to give reason why all 
the world should think as I think. Affection is a 
thing wherein I look after the pleasing of myself. 

2. It was a good fancy of an old Platonic — ^The 
gods which are abore men, bad something whereof 


man did partake, (an ibtellect linowledge] and the 
gods kept on their course quietly: the beasts, 
which are below man, bad something whereof man 
did partake, (sense and growth) and the beasts lived 
quietly iu their way : but man had something in 
bim, whereof neither gods nor beasts did partake, 
I which gave him all the trouble, and made all the 

confusion in the world, and that is opinion. 
^ 3. It is a foolish thing for me to be brought off 
from an opinion in a thing neither of us know, but 
"are led only by some cobweb-stufT, as in such a case 
as this, utrum angeli mvicem coUoquantur t If I 
forsake my side in such a case, I show myself won- 
derful light, or inffnitely complying, or flattering 
the other party : but, if I be in a business of nature, 
and hold an opinion one way, and some man's ex- 
perience has found out the contrary, I may with a 
safe reputatiou give up my side. 
. 4. It is a vain thing to talk of an heretic ; for a 
man. for his heart can think no otherwise than he 
does think. In the primitive times, there were many 
opinions, nothing scarce but some or other held : 
one of these opinions being embraced by some prince, 
and received into his kingdom, the rest were con^s 
* demned as heresies ; and his religion, which was 
^ bat one of the several opinions, first is said to be 
orthodox, and so have contiifned ever since the 


This is the juggling trick of the parity; they would 
^ have nobody above them, but they do not tell you 
they would have nobody under thenr. ^ 



1. All are iovolred in a parliameDt. There was 
a time wheo all men bad their voice in cboomng 
Icuigiits. Aboat Henry tiie Siicth's time they found 
the inconvenience ; so one parUamene made a law, 
that- only be that bad forty sbiilings per anoam 
abould {five his. voice, they under should be ex- 
clvded« Tbey made the law who had the voice of 
all, as well under forty sbiilings as above ; and tbm 
it continues at this day. All consent civilly in a 
parliament : women are involved in tlie men, chil* 
dren in those of perfect age; those that are nnder 
forty shillings a year, in thoee that have forty sbil- 
iingaa year ; those of forty shillings, in th6 knights. 

2. All things are brought to the parliament, little 
to the courts of justice ; just as in a room where 
there is a bancjuet presented, if there be persons of 
quality there, the people must expect, and stay till 
the great ones have done. 

3. The parliament flying upon several men, and 
then letting them alone, does as a hawk that flies a 
covey of partridges, and when she has flovrn them 
a great way., grows weary, and takes a tree ; then 
the falconer lures her down, and takes her to bis 
flst ; on they go again, heireitf up springs another 
covey, away goes the hawk, and, as she did before, 
takes another tree, &c. 

4. Dissenters in parliament may at length come 
to a good end, though first there be a great deal of 
do, and a great deal of amse, which mad wild folks 
make ; just as in a brewing of wrest-beer, there is 
a great deal of boaincaa in grinding the malt, aB4 

S>M«DBN1ANA. 97 

that spoils any »an*s dotbei tliart comes near it • 
then it must be mashed; then comes a fellow in 
and drinks of the wort, and he is drank ; then they 
keep a hnge quarter when they carry it into the 
cellar ; and a twelvemonth after it is delicate fine 

5. it mnst necessarily be that our distempers are 
worse than they were in the beginning of the par* 
liaraent. If a physician comes to a sick man, he 
lets him blood, it may be, scarifies him, cups him, 
puts him into a great disorder, before he makes him 
well : and if he be sent for to cure an ague, and he 
finds bis patient hath many diseases, a dropsy, and 
a palsy, he applies remedies to them all, which 
makes the cure the longer and the dearer : this is 
the ease. 

6^ The parliament men are as great princes as 
any in the world, when whatsoever they please is 
privilege of parliament; no man must know the 
nnraber of their privileges, and whatsoever they 
dislike is breach of privilege. The duke of Venice 
is no more than speaker of the house of commons ; 
but the senate at Venice are not so much as our 
parliament men, nor have they that power over 
the people ; who yet exercise the gi'eatest tyranny 
that is any where. In plain truth, breach of privi- 
lege is only the actual taking away of a member of 
the house, the rest are offences against the house : 
for example, to take out process agaUnst a parlia- 
ment man^ or the like. 

7. The pariianvent party, if the law be for them, 
they call for the law ; if it be against themt they yhH 
go to a parliamentary way ; if no law be for them, 


then fqr law again : like him that first called for 
sack to heat him, then small drink to cool his sack, 
then sack again to heat his small drink, &c. 

8. The parliament party do not play fair play, in 
sitting np till two of the clock in the morning, to 
vote something they have a mind to : it is like a 
crafty gamester that makes the company drunk, 
then pheats them of their money : young men and 
infirm men, go away ; besides, a man is not there 
to persuade- other men to be of his mind, but to 
speak his own heart ; and if it be liked, so; If not, 
there is an end. 


1. Though we write parson dilferratly, yet it is 
but person ; that is, the individual person set apart 
for the service of such a church, and it is in Latin 
persofiOf and personatua is a personage. Indeed, 
with the canon lawyers, peraonatus is any dignity 
or preferment in the church. 

2. There never was a merry world since the 
fairies left dancing, and the parson left conjuring : 
the opinion of the latter kiept thieves in awe, and 
did as much good in a country as a justice of peace. 


Patience is the chlefest fruit of study. A man 
that strives to make himself a different thing from 
other men by much reading, gains this chiefest gbod, 
that in all fortunes he hath something to eiitertun 
and comfort himself withal. 

seldeniana; 99 


1. King James was pictured going easily down 
a pair of stairs, and upon every step there was writ- 
teuy peace, peace, peace. The wisest way for men 
in these times is to say nothing. 

2. When a country wench cannot .get her butter 
to come, she says, the witch is in her churn. We 
have been churning for peace a great while, and it 
will DOt come : sure the witch is in it. 

5. Though we had peace, yet it will be a great 
while ere things be settled : though the wind lie, 
yet after a storm the sea will work a great while. 


Penance is only the punishment inflicted — ^not 
penitence, which is the right word. A man comes 
not to do penance^ because he repents him of his 
sin — ^but because he is compelled to it : he curses 
him, and could Icill him that sends him thither. 
The old canons wisely enjoined three years' penance 
— lometimes more ; because, in that time, a man 
got a habit of virtue, and so committed that sin no 
more, for which he did penance. 


1. There is not any thing in the world more 
abused than this sentence, Saluspopuli suprema lt» 
estoi for we apply it, as if we ought to forsake the 
known law, when it may be most for the advantage 
of the people, when it means no such thing. For, 


first, it is not Salus populi tuprema lex est, bat esto, 
it being one of the laws of the Twelve Tables ; and 
after divers laws made, some for panishment, some 
for reward, then follows this, Salus popuU suprema 
lex estoi that is, in all the laws you make, have a 
special eye to the good of the people ; and then what 
does this concern the way they now go ? 

2. O^ection. He that malces one, is greater than 
he that is made ; the people make the king, ergOj 
&c. Answer, This does not hold ; for if I have one 
thousand poands per annum, and give it to yon, and 
leave myself never a penny, I made yon ; bat when 
you have my land, you are greater than I. The ^ 
parish makes the constable, and when the constable 
is made, he governs the parish. The answer to all 
these doubts is. Have you agreed so ? If yon have, 
then It most remain till you have altered it. 


1 . Pleasure is nothing else but the intermission 
of pain, the enjoying of something I am in great 
trouble for till I have it. 

2. It is a wrong way to proportion other men's 
pleasures to ourselves: it is like a child's using a 
little bird, " O poor bird, thou shalt sleep with me ;" 
so lays it in his bosom, and stifles it with his hot 
breath : the bird had rather be in the cold air. 
And yet, too, it is the inost pleasing flattery, to like 
what other men like. 

3. It IS most undoaMedly tme, that all men are 
equally given to their pteasnres : only thus, one man's 
pleasure lies one way, and another's another. Plea* 
sures are all alike, simply eonsiderad in theASdves : 


he that hunts, or he that governs the common- 
wealth—- they both please themselves alike; onl^ 
we commend that, whereby we durselves receive 
some benefit ; as if a man place his delight in things 
that tend to the common good. He that takes plea- 
sure to hear sermons, enjoys himiielf as much as he 
that hears plays ; and could he that loves plays en- 
deavour to love sermons, possibly he might bring 
himself to it as well as to any other pleasure : at first, 
it may seem harsh and tedious ; but afterwards, it 
would be pleasing and delightful. So it falls out in 
that, which is the great pleasure of some men — ^to- 
bacco ; at first they could not abide it, and now they 
cannot be without it. 

4. Whilst you are upon earth, enjoy the good 
things that are here, (to that end were they given) 
and be not melancholy, and wish yourself in heaven. 
If a king should give you the keeping of a castle, 
with all things belonging to it, orchards, gardens, 
&c. and bid you use them ; withal promise you that 
after twenty years to remove you to the court, and 
to make you a privy counsellor : if you should neg- 
lect your castle, and refuse to eat of thoee fruits, 
and sit down, and whine, and wish you were a privy 
counsellor, do you think the king would be pleased 
with you ? 

b. Pleasures of meat, drink, clothes, &c. are for- 
bidden those that know not how to use them, just 
as nurses cry pah ! when they see a knife in a child's 
hand : they will never say any thing to a man. 


' 1 


When men comfort themselves with philosophy, 
it is not. becatise they have got two or three sen- 
tences, bat because they have digested those sen- 
tences, and made them their own : so, npon the 
matter, philosophy is nothing but discretion. 


1. Ovid was not only a fine poet, but, as a man 
may speals, a great canon lawyer, as appears in his 
Fasti, where we have more of the festivals of the old 
Romans than any where else : it is pity the rest are 

2. There is no reason plays should be in verse, 
either in blank or rhyme ; only the poet has to say 
for himself, that he makes something like that which 
somebody made before him. The old poets had no 
other reason but this — their verse was sung to mu- 
sic ; otherwise it had been a senseless thing to have 
fettered up themselves. 

3k I never converted but two ; the one was Mr. 
Crashaw, from writing against plays, by teUing him 
a way how to understand that place, of putting on 
women's apparel, which has nothing to do in the 
business ; as neither has it, that the fathers speak 
against plays in their time, with reason enough ; 
for they had real idolatries mixed with their plays, 
having three altars perpetually upon the stage. 
The other was a doctor of divinity, from preaching 
against painting, which simpjy in itself is no more 



burtfdl tlian putting on my clothes, or doing any 
thing to make myself like other folks, that I may 
not be odious nor offensive to the company : indeed 
if I do it with an ill intention, it alters the case ; so 
if I put on my gloves with an intention to do misr 
chief, I am a villain. 

4. It is a fine thing for children to learn to make 
verse ; but when they come to be men they must 
speak like other men, or else they will be laughed 
at. It is ridiculous to speak, or write, or preach in 
verse. As it is good to learn to dance ; a man may 
learn his leg, learn to go handsomely; biit it is 
ridiculous for him to dance when he should go. 

5. It is ridiculous for a lord to print verses : it is 
well enough to make them to please himself, but 
to make them public is foolish. If a man, in a pri- 
vate chamber, twirls bis band-strings, or j>lays with 
a rash to please himself, it is well enough ; but if 
he should go into Fleet-street, and sit upon a stall, 
and twirl a band- string, or play with a rush, thea 
all the boys in the street would laugh at him. 

6. Verse proves nothing but the quantity of sylla- 
bles ; they are not meant for logic. 


1. A pope's bull and a pope's brief differ very 
much; as with us, the great seal and the privy 
teal : the bull being the highest authority the king • 
can give — ^the brief is of less : the bull has a leaden 
seal upon silk, hanging upon the instrument ; the 
brief has wb anmtlo pUcatqris upon the side. 

* 5ic, but qu. Pope? 

2. He was a wise pope^ that^ when oae that vied 
to be metty with him, before he was 8d?aBce«i to 
the popedom, refraiaed afterwards to come at him, 
presnming be 'was busy in governiog the Christian 
world: the poptf sends for Irim-^btds him come 
again ; " And," says he, ** we will be merry as we 
were before, fof thon iittltT thidEest what a little 
foolery governs the whole world." 

j^. The pope in sending relics to princes, does as 
wenches do by their wasseis at New-year's^tide ; 
they present yon with a cap, and yoa must drink of 
a slabby staff; biit thfe meaning is, yoa must gire 
them monies, tea times more than it is worth. 

4. The pope Is infsdHUe, where he hath power to 
cotamand, that is, where he roast be ol)eyed ; so is 
every snpreme power and prince : they that stretch 
his infallibility farther, do, they Isnow not what. 

5. When a Protestant and a Papist dispute, they 
talk liice two madflien, iKcanse tiiey do not agree 
Upon their principles : the one way is,* to destroy 
the pope's power ; for if he hath power to. command 
me, it is not my alleging reasons to the contrary, 
can keep me from obeying. For example, if a con- 
stable command me to wear a green suit to-morrow, 
and has power to make me, it is not my alleging a 
hundred reasons of the folly of it can excnse me 
from doing it. 

6. There was a time when the pope had power 
here in England, and there was exoeUNmt use made 
of it ; for it was only to serve tnms, as might be 
Manifested oat of the records of the kingdom, which 
divines know little of. If the k^ did not like «rhat 
the pope wonld have, he would forbid the pope*s 
legate to land npOn his ground : so that the power 


WM trnly then in the king, though raifered in the 
pope. Bat now the temporal and the spiritual 
power (spiritual so called, because ordained to a 
spiritual end) spring both from one fountain, they 
are lilie to twist that. 

7. The Protestants in France bear office in the 
state, because, though their religion be different, 
yet they acknowledge no other king but the king of 
, France. The Papists in England they must have a 
king of their own — a pope, that must do something 
in our kingdom ; therefore, there is no reason they 
should enjoy the same prmleges. 

B. Amsterdam admits of all religions but Papists, 
and it is upon the same account. The Papists, 
wherever they live, have another king at Rome ; all 
other religions are subject to the present state, and 
have no prince elsewhere. 

9. The Papists call ottr religion a parliamentary 
religion ; but ther6 was once, I am sure^ a parlia- 
mentary pope. Pope Urban was made pope in Eng- 
land by act of parliament, against pope Clement : 
the act is not in the book of statutes, either because 
he that compiled the book^ would not have the 
name of the pope there, or else he would not let it 
appear that they meddled with any such thing ; but 
it is upon the rolls. 

10. When our clergy preach against the pope, and 
the church of Rome, thef preach against themselves ; 
and crying down their pride, their power, and their 
riches, have made themselves ^oor and con tern pti« 
ble enough : they dedicate' first to please their 
prince, not considering what would follow: just 
as if a man were to go a journey, and seeing at 
lui tot setting out the way clean and fur, ventures 


196 8BLl>BNIANAk 

forth in his slippers, not considering the dirt and 
the slonghs are a little farther off, or how suddenly 
the weather may change. 

• 1. The demanding a noble, for a dead body pass- 
ing through a town, came from hence in time of 
popery : they canied the dead body into the church, 
wliere the priest said dirges ; and twenty dit*ge8 at 
fourpence a piece comes to a noble : but now it is 
forbidden by an order from my lord marshal ^ the 
heralds carry his warrant about them. 

2. We charge the prelatical clergy with popery to 
maiie them odious, though we Icnow they are guilty 
of no such thing: just as heretofore they caUed 
images Mammets, and the adoration of images 
Mammettry; that is, Mahomet and Mahometry, 
odious names, when ail the world icnows tlie Taris 
are forbidden images by their religion. 


1. There is no stretching of power : It is a good 
rule— Eat within your stomach ; act within your 

' 2. They thaf goreni most mvike least noise. 
You see when they row in a barge, th^ that do 
drudgery work, slash, and puff, and sweat ; but he 
that gorems, sits quietly at the stem, and scarcely 
is seen to stir. 

3. Syllables govern the world. 

4. Att power is tf God, means no more than 
/idei est servanda. When 8t. Paid said this, the peo- 


p|e had made Nero emperor. They agree, he to 
cammaody they to obey $ theo God comes la, and 
casts a hook upon Uiem» ke^ pour faiih: then 
comes in, all power is of God, Never king dropped 
out of the clouds. God did not make a new empe- 
ror, as the king makes a justice of peace. 

5. Christ himself was a great observer of the 
civil power, and did many things only justifiable, 
because the state rei^uired it, which were things 
merely temporary for the time that state stood. 
But divines make nee of them to gain power to 
themselves ; as for example, that of die ecclesiee^ 
tell the church : there was then a Sanhedrim, u 
court to tell it to $ and therefore, they would have 
it so now. 

6. Divines ought to do no more than what the 
state permits : before the state became Christian^ 
they made their own laws ; and those that did uqt 
observe them, they excommunicated, (naughty men) 
they suffered them to come no more amongst them ; 
but if they would come amongst them, how cx>uld 
they hinder them ? By what law ? By what power ? 
They were still silbject to the state, which was hea- 
then. Nothing better expresses the condition of 
Christians in those times, than one of the meet- 
ings you have in London, of men of the same 
country, of Sussex meu, or Bedfordshire men ; they 
appoint their meeting, and they agree, and make 
laws amongst themselves ; (He that it not there shall 
pay double^ /jfc.J and if any one misbehave himself, 
they shut him out of their* company ; but can they 
recover a forfeiture made concerning their meeting 
by any law ? Have they any power to compel one 
to pay ? But afterwards, when the state became 


Christian, all the power was in them, and they 
gave the church as much or as little as they pleased, 
and took away when they pleased, and added what 
they pleased. 

7. The chnrch is not only subject to the cinl 
power with us that are protestants,'but also in 
Spain ; if the church does excommunicate a man 
for what it should not, the civil power will take him 
out of their hands : so in France, the bishop of An« 
giers altered something in the breviary ; they com- 
plained to the parliament at Paris, that made him 
alter it again, with a comme abuse, 

8. The parliament of England has no arbitrary 
power in point of judicature, but in point of making 
law only. 

9. If the prince be servus naturd, of a servile base 
spirit, and the subjects liberi, free and ingenuous, 
ofttimes they depose their prince, and govern 
themselves : on the contrary, if the people be servi 
naturd, and some one amongst them of a free and 
ingenuous spirit, he makes himself king of the rest ; 
and this is the cause of all changes in the state ; 
commonwealths into monarchies, and monarchies 
into commonwealths. . 

10. In a troubled state we must do as in foul 
weather upon the Thames ; not think to cut directly 
through, so the boat may be quickly full of water; 
but rise and fall as the waves do, give as much as 
conveniently we can. 


1 . If I were a minister, I should ^hink myself 
idost in my office, reading of prayers, and dispensing 


the sacrtments : and it is ill done to pat one to offi- 
ciate ID the church, whose person is contemptible 
oat of it. Shoald a great lady, that was invited to 
be a gossip, in her place send her kitchen maid, it 
ivould be ill taken ; y^t she is a woman as well as 
she : ]e( her send her woman at least. 

2. You thaUprayy is the right way ; because, aq- 
cordtng as the church is seitled, no man may make 
a prayer in public of his own head. 

3. It is not the original Common Prayer Book. 
Why, show me an original Bible, or au original 
Magna Charta. 

4. Admit the preacher prays by the spirit, yet that 
▼ery prayer is common prayer to the people : they 
are tied as much to his words, as in saying, Al- 
mighiy and most merci/kti Father, Is it then unlaw- 
ful in the minister, but not unlawful in the people ? 

5. There were some mathematicians, that could 
with one fetch of their pen make an exact circle, 
and with the next touch point out the centre : is it 
therefore reasonable to banish all use of the com- 
passes ? Set forms are a pair of compasses. 

6. God hath given gifts unto men. General texts 
prove nothing: let him show me John,. William, 
or Thomas in the text, and then I will believe him. 
If a man hath a voluble tongue, we say, he hath the 
gift of prayer : his gift is to pray long, that 1 see ; 
bat does he pray better ? 

7. We take care what we speak to men, but to 
God we may say any thing. 

8. The people must not think a thought towards 
God, but as their pastors will put it into their 
mouths : they will make right sheep of us. 

9. The English priests would do that in English 


which the Romish do in Latin--4{eep the 
Ignorance ; but some of the people outdo tbem at 
their own game. 

10 Prayer should be short, without giving God 
Almighty reasons why he should grant this op 
that : he knows best what is good for u&. If yaav 
boy should ask yon a suit of clothes, and give you 
reasons, (otherwise he cannot wait upon yon, he 
cannot go abroad but he will discredit you) would 
you endure it ? You know it better than he : let 
him ask a suit of clothes. < 

11. If a servant that has been fed with good beef, 
goes into that part of England where salmon^ is 
plenty, at first he is pleased with his salmon, and 
despises his beef; but after he has been there awhile, 
he grows weary of his salmon, and wifihes for his 
good beef again. We have awhile been much taken 
with this praying by the spirit, but in time we may 
grow weary of it, and wish for our Common Prayer. 

12. It is hoped we may be cared of our extempo- 
rary prayers the same way the grocer's boy h cured 
of his eating plums — ^when we have had our belly 
full of them. 


1. Notliiug is more mistaken than that speedi. 
Preach the Gospel; for it is not to make long ha- 
rangues, as they do nowadays, but to tell the news 
of Christ's coming into the world : and when that 
is done, or where it is knoi^n already, the preaicher's 
work is done, 

2. Preaching, in the first sense of the wordi 
4:eased as soon as ever the gospels were wiittenv 

SBLpBNIANA. ^ ^ lil 

• 3. When the preacher says. This is the meanitig 
of the Holy Ghost in such a place— -in sense he can 
mean no more than this : that is, 1, by studying of 
Jthe place, by comparing one place with another, by 
weighing what goes before, and what comes after, 
chink this is the meaning of the Holy Ghost ; and, 
for shortness of expression, I say, the Holy Ghost 
says thus, or this is the meaning of the Spirit of 
God. So the jndge speaks of the king's proclama- 
tion : This is the intention of the kiog-^not that the 
king had declared his intention any other way to 
the Jndge ; but the jndge, examining the contents 
of the proclamation, gathers, by the purport of the 
words, the king's intention ; and then, for shortness 
of expression, says. This is the king's intention. . 

• 4. Nothing is text but what was spoken in 
the Bible, and meant there for person and place ; 
the rest is applkation, which a discreet man nsay 
do well ; bat it is his Scripture, not the Holy 

5. Preaching by the Spirit, as they call it. Is most 
esteemed by the common people, because they can- 
not abide art or learning, which they have not been 
bred up in : Just as in the business of fendng ; if 
one country fallow amongst the rest, has ,been at 
school, the rest will undemdue his skill, or tell 
feam he wants valour : You come with your school 
tricks ; there is Dick Butcher has ten times more 
mettle in him i so they say^ to the preachers. Yon 
eome with your school learning; there is such a 
one has the Spirit. 

6. The tone in preaching does ranch io working 
upon the people'9 affections : if a man should make 
love in an ordinary tooe^ hte mlstiess would not ve- 


gard him ; and, therefore, he must whine : if a xnan 
should cry fire, or murder, iu an ordinary voice, no- 
body would come out to help him. 

7. Preachers will bring any thing into the text. 
The young masters of arts preached against non-re- 
sidency in the university; whereupon the heads 
made an order, that no man should meddle with 
any thing but what was in the text. The next day 
one preached upon these words, Abraham begat 
Isaac; when he had gone a good way, at last he 
observed, that Abraham was resident,, ior if he 
had been non-resident, he could never have begat 
Isaac; and so fell foul upon the non* residents. 

8. I could never tell what often preaching meant^ 
after a church is settled, and we know what is to 
be done : it is just as if a husbandman should once 
tell his servants what they are to do, when to sow, 
when to reap ; and afterwards one should come, 
and tell them twice or thrice a day what they Icnow 
already : You must sow your wheat in October, you 
must reap your wheat in August, &c. 

9. The main argument why they would have two 
sermons a day is, because they have two meals a 
day; the soul must be fed as well as the body : but 
I may as well argue, I ought to have two noses be- 
cause I have two eyes, or two mouths because I 
have two ears. What have meals and sermons to do 
one with another ? 

10. The things between God and man are but 
few, and those, forsooth; we must be told often of: 
but things between man and man are many ; those 
I hear not of above twice a year at the assizes, or 
once a quarter at the sessions : but few come then j^ 
nor does the minister exhort the people to go at 

fiBUMBNlANA« 113 

tlie« tioMK to learft their <hity towards their neigh- 
lioor. Oneii preachiDg is sare to keep the minister 
in coontenance, that he may have something to do. 

11. In preaching they say more to raise men to 
love virtue than men can possibly perfonui to make 
them do their best : as if you would teach a man to 
throw the bar ; to make him put ont his streogtby 
yo« bid him throw farther than it is possible for 
him, or any man else : throw over yonder house. 

12. In preaching they do by men as writers of ro- 
mances do by their chief knights, bring them into 
many dangers, but still fetch them off: so they pat 
men in fear of hell ; but at last they bring them to 

13. Preachers say. Do as I say, not as I do ; bnt 
if a physician had the same disease upon him that I 
have, and he shonld bid me do one thing, and 
he do quite another, could I believe him ? 

14. Preaching the same sermon to all sorts of 
people, is, as if a schoolmaster should read the same 
ieeton to his several forms : if he reads Amo, amw^ 
amavi, the h^best forms laugh at him ; the younger 
boys admire him : so it is in preaching to a mixed 
auditory. Olffedion, But it cannot be .otherwise ; 
the parish cannot be divided into several forms. 
What must the preacher then do in discretioa ? 
Anaw. Why then \tt him use some expressions by 
which this or that condition of people may know 
such doctrine does more especially concern Uiem, It 
being so delivered that the' wisest may be content to 
hear ; for if he delivers it altogether, and leaves It to 
them to single ont what belongs to themselves, 
which Is the usual way, it is as if a roan woold be* 
stow gifts upon chBdreil of several ages ; two yeaav 


old, foar years old, ten years old, &c. ; and there 
he briugs tops, pins, points, ribbons, and casts them 
all in a' heap together upon a table before them ; 
thoagh the boy of ten years old knows how to choose 
his top, yet the child of two years old* that should 
have- a ribbon, talces a pin, and the pin, ere he be 
aware, pricks his fingers, and then all is ont of or- 
der, &c. Preaching, for the most part, is the glory 
of the preacher, to show himself a fine man : 
catechising would do much better. 

15. Use the best arguments to persuade, though 
but few understand ; for the ignorant will sooner 
believe the jndiciousof the parish, than the preacher 
himself: and they teach when they dispute what 
he has said, and believe it the sooner, confirmed by 
men of their own side : for betwixt the laity and 
the clergy, there is, as it were, a continual driving 
of a bargain ; something the clergy wonld still have 
us be at, and therefore many things are heard from 
the preacher with suspicion : they are afraid of 
some ends, which are easily assented to, when they 
. have it from some of themselves. It is with a ser- 
mon as it is with a play; many come to see it, 
who do not understand it ; and yet hearing it cried 
up by one, whose judgment they cast themselves 
upon, and of power with them, they swear, and will 
die in it, that it is a very good play, which they 
would not have done if the priest himself had told 
them so: as in a great school, it is the master 
that teaches all ; the monitor does a great deal of 
work ; it may be the boys are afraid to see the ma- 
ster ; so in a parish it is not the minister does all ; 
the greater neighbour teaches the lesser, the ma* 
•ter of the house teaches his servant^ &c. 

6BLD£N]ANA» 115 

16. First, in your sermons use your logic, and . 
then yoar rhetoric : rhetoric withont logic is like a 
tree with leaves and blossoms, but no root : yet I 
confess more are taken with rhetoric than logic, 
because they are caught with a free expression, 
when they understand not reason. Logic must be 
natural, or it is worth nothing at all. Your rheto- 
ric figures may be learned, 'fhat rhetoric is best 
which is most seasonable and most catching : an in- 
stance we have in that old blunt commander at Ca« 
diz, who showed himself a good orator : being to say 
something to his soldiers^ which he was not used to 
do,' he made them a speech to this purpose : ** What 
a shame will it be, you Englishmeif, that feed upon 
good beef and brewess, to let those rascally Spani- 
ards beat you, that eat nothing but oranges and le- 
mons ;" and so put more courage into his men than 
be could have done with a more learned oration. 
Rhetoric is very good, or stark naught : there is no 
medium in rhetoric ; if I am not fully persuaded^ I 
laogh at the orator. 

17. It is good to preach the same thing again, for 
that is the way to have it learned. You see a bird by 
often whistling to learn a tune, and a month after 
record it to herself. 

.18. It is a hard case a minister should be turned 
out of his living for something they inform he should 
say in his pulpit : we can no more know what a 
minister said in his sermon by two or three words 
picked out of It, than we can tell what tune a rou- 
siciaA played last upon the lute, by two or three 
single notes. 



1. They that talk nothing bat predestination, 
and will not proceed in the way of heaven till they 
be satisfied in that point, do, as a man that would 
not come to London, unless at his first step he 
might set his foot upon the top of St. Paul's. 

2. For a young divme to begin in his pulpit with 
predestination, is, as if a man were coming into 
London, and at his first step would think to set bis 
foot, &c. 

3. Predestination is a point iuaocesMMe, out of 
our reach ; we can make no notion of it, it is so 
full of intricacy, so full of contradiction ; it is in 
good earnest, as we state it, haltVa-dozen bulls one 
upon another. 

4. Doctor Prideaux, in his lectures, several days 
used arguments to prove predestination : at last teUs 
his auditory they are damned that do not lieUeve it ; 
doing herein -just like schoolboys, when one of 
them lias got an apple, or something the rest have 
a mind to, they use all the arguments they cAn to get 
some of it from them t I gave yon some the other 
day ; yon shall have some with me another time. 
When they cannot prevail, they tell him he is a 
jackanapes, a rogue, and a rascal. 


1 . When you would have a child go to such a I^mx* 
and you find him unwilling, you tell him be shall 
ride a cock-horse, and then he will go presently : 
so do those that govern the state deal by men, to 


work them to their ends ; they tell them they shall be 
advanced to such or such a place, and they will do 
any thing tliey wonld have them. 

2. A great place strangely qoalifies. John Read, 
groom of the chamber to my lord of Kent, was in the 
right. Attorney Noy being dead, some were saying, 
*< How will the king do for a fit man ?" ** Why, 
any man," says John Read, ** may execute the 
place." " I warrant," says my lord, ** thou think- 
est thott nnderstandest enongh to perform it." 
** Yes," quoth John, ** let the king make me attor*- 
ney, and 1 would fain see that man, that durst tell 
me, there is any thing I understand not." 

3. When the pageants are a coming there is a 
great thrusting, and a riding upon one another's 
hacks, to look out at the window ; stay a little and 
they will come just to you, yon may see them quietly. 
So it is when a new statesman or officer is chosen ; 
there is great expectation and listening who it should 
be ; stay awhile, and you may know quietly. 

4. Missing preferment makes the presbyters fall 
foal upon the bishops. Men that are in hopes and 
In the way of rising, keep in the channel; but they 
that have none, seek new ways : it w, so amongst 
the lawyers ; he that hath the judge's ear, will be 
▼ery observant of the way of the court ; but he that 
hath no regard, will be flying out. * 

5. My lord Digby having spoken something in the 
house of commons, for which they would have 
qaestioaed him, was presently called to the upper 
house : be did by the parliament, as an ape when 
he hath done some waggery ; his master spies -him, 
and be looks for his whip ; but before he can come 


at him, ** Whip,** aays he, " to the top of the 

6. Some of the parliament were discontented, 
that thcf wanted places at court, which others had 
got ; but when they had them once, then they were 
qaiet: just as at a christening, some that get no 
sDgar plams, when the rest have, mutter and grum- 
ble: presently the wencli comes again with her 
basket of sugar-plums, and then they catch and 
scramble; and when they have got them, yon hear 
no more of them. 


There can be no premunire : a premunire, so 
called from the word premunire /ados, was when a 
man laid an action in an ecclesiastical court, for 
which he could have no remedy in any of the king's 
courts, that is, iu the courts of common law; by 
reason, the ecclesiastical courts, before Henry the 
Eigtbth, were subordinate to the pope ; and so It 
was contra coronam et dignitatem regis ; but now 
the ecclesiastical courts are equally subordinate to 
the king ; therefore, it cannot be contra coronam tt 
dignitatem regis, and so no premunire. 


1. Prerogative is something that can be told what 
it is — not something tha^bas no name : just as yoa 
see the archbishop has his prerogative court, but we 
know what is done in that court : so the 1dog*s pre- 
rogative is not his will, or what divines make ft, a 
power to do what he lists. 


2. The king's prerogative, that is, the l&ing's lavr. 
For example, if you ask whether a patron may pre* 
sent to a Hying after six months by law ? I answer, 
" No." If you ask whether the king may ? I an- 
swer, ** He may, by his prerogative ;" that is^ by 
the law that concerns him in that case.- 


!• Hiey that would bring in a new government, 
would very fain persuade us, they meet it in anti- 
quity ; thus they interpret pretiyten, when they 
meet the word in the fathers. Other professions 
likewise pretend to antiquity. The alchymist wiU 
find his art in Virgil's aureus ramut; and he that 
delights in optics will find them in Tacitus. When 
Caesar came into England, they would persuade us 
they had perspective glasses, by which be could dis- 
cover what they were doing upon the land, because 
it is fuAdpoiUis tpecuiis : the meaning is — ^his watch, 
or his sentinel discovered this, and this unto him. 

2. Presbyters have the greatest power of any clergy 
in the world, and gull the laity most; For example : 
admit there be twelve laymen to six presbyters, the 
six shall govern the rest as they please ; first, be- 
cause they are constant, and the others come in like 
churchwardens, in their turns, which is a huge ad- 
vantage. Men will give way to them who have been 
in place before them. Next, the laymen have other 
professions to follow ; the presbyters make it their 
sole business : and besides, too, they learn and study 
the art of persuading : some of Geneva have con- 
fessed as much. 


3. The presbyter, with. his elders about him, is 
like a yonsg tree fenced about with two or three or 
fbar stakes ; the stakes defend it, and hold It np— 
bat the tree only prospers and flonrishes ; it may be 
some willow stake may bear a leaf or two, but it 
comes to nothing. Lay-elders are stakes, the pres- 
byter the tree that flonrishes. 

4. When the queries were sent to the assembly, 
concerning the^ttf dmnum of presbytery, their ask- 
ing time to answer them, was a satire upon them- 
selves ; for if it were to be seen In the text, they 
might quickly turn to the place, and show us it ; 
their delaying to answer, makes us think there is uo 
such thing there, lliey do just as you have seen a 
fellow do at a tavern-reckoning ; when he should 
come to pay his reckoning, he puts his hands into 
bis pockets, and keeps a grabbling and a fumbling, 
and shaking, at last tells you he has left his money 
at home, when all the company knew at first he 
had no money there, for every man can quickly find 
Ills own money. 


1. The reason of the statute against priests, was 
this: hi the l>eginning of queen Elizabeth, there 
was a statute made« that he that drew men from 
their civil obedience was a traitor. It happened 
this was done in privacies and confessions, when 
there could be no pfoof : therefore, they made 
another aet, that for a priest to be in England, was 
treason, beeause they presumed that was his busi- 
ness to fetch men off from their obedience. 

SfiLDENlANA. 1^1 

^. When qdeen Elizabeth died, and king James 
t?ame in, an Irish priest does thus express it : SUza- 
betha m orcum detrtua, iucceait Jaafhta, alter Ae- 
reticus. Yon will ask why they did use sneh lan- 
guage in their chnrch ? Answer* Why does the 
Durse tell the child of raw-head and bloody-bones, 
to keep it in awe ? 

3. The qneen mother and count Rosset, are to 
the priestji and Jesuits like thehoney-pottoihe flies. 

4. The priests of Rome aim bot at two things ; to 
get power from the king^ and money from the anb- 

&• When the priests come into a fainilyy they do 
as a man that would set Are to a house ; he does n«t 
imt fire to the brick wall, bat thrusts it into %h& 
thatch. They work upon the women, and let the 
men alone. 

6. For a priest to turn a man when he lies a dying, 
Is jnst like one that hath a long time solicited a wo* 
man, and cannot obtain his end ; at length makes 
her dronk, and so lies with her. 


Dreams and prophecies do thus much good ; they 
make a man go on with boldness tmd courage apoA 
a danger or a mistress : if he obtains, he attributes 
much to tliem ; if he miscarries, he thinks no more 
of them, or is no more thought of himself. 


The provetts <df se? eral nations were nracfa studied 
by Wsfaop Andrews, and the reason he gave, was, 



because by them lie knew the minds of several na- 
tions-^which is a brave thing ; as we count him a 
wise man, that knows the minds and insides of 
men, which is done by knowing what is habitual to 
hem. Proverbs are habitual to a nation^ being 
transmitted from father to son. 


When a doubt is propounded, you must learn to 
distinguish, and show wherein a thing holds, and 
wherein it does not hold : aye, or no, never an* 
swered any question. The not distinguishing where 
things should be distinguished— and the not con* 
founding, where things should be confounded, is 
the cause of all the mistakes iu the world. 


1. In giving reasons, men commonly do with us 
as the woman does with her child ; when she goes 
to market about her business, she tells it she goes 
to buy it a fine thing^to buy it a cake or some 
plums. They give us such reasons as they think we 
win be catched withal — ^but never let us know the 

2. When the schoolmen talk of recta ratio in 
morals, either they understand reason, as it is go- 
verned by a command from above— or else they say 
no more than a woman, when she says a thing is so, 
because it is so ; that is her reason persuades her it 
is ^o. The other exception has sense in it. As, 
take a law of the land', / mutt not depopulati, my 


reason tdb tile so. Why ? Becaase if I do, I incur 
' the detriment. ' 

3. The reason of a thing is not to be inquired 
after, till you are sure the thing itself be so. We 
commonly are at^ ff^hat ia the reason o/U f — before 
we are sni-e of the thing. It was an excellent ques- 
tion of my lady Cotton, when sir Robert Cotton was 
magnifying of a shoe, which was Moses's or Noah's, 
and wondering at the strange shape and fashion of 
it : ** But, Mr. Cotton," sayii she, " are you sure 
it is a shoe ?** 


^n eifejbr an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. That 
does not mean, that if I put out another man's eye, 
therefore, I must lose one of my own ; for what is 
he the better for that ? (though this be commonly 
received) but it means,,! shall give him what satis- 
faction an eye shall be judged to be worth. 


It is sometimes unreasonable to look after respect 
and reverence, either from a man's own servant, or 
other inferiors. A great lord and a gentleman talk- 
ing together, thete came a boy by, leading a calf 
with both his hands : says the lord to the gentle* 
man, *' Yon shall see me make the boy let go his 
calf." ' With that he came towards him, thinking 
the boy wonld have put ofif his hat ; but the boy took 
no notice of him. The lord seeing-that, " Sirrah," 
says he, ** do yon not know me, that you use no 


reverence ?•* " Yes,** says the boy, ** if yoor Idrd- 
ship will hold my calf, I will pnt off my hat," 


1. llie people thought they had a great victory 
over the clergy, when, in Henry the Eighth's time, 
they got their bill passed, ** That a clergyman 
»hoald have but two livings :" before a man might 
have twenty or thirty. It was bnt getting a dispen- 
sation from the pope's limiter, or gatherer of the 
Peter- pence, which was as easily got, as now yon 
may have a licence to eat flesh. 

2. As soon as a minister is made, he hath power 
to preach aU over the world, but the civil power re« 
stridos him; he cannot preach in this parish, or in 
that ; there is one already appointed. Now if the 
state allows him two livings, then he hath two 
places where he may exercise his function, and so 
has the itiore power to do his office; which he 
might do everywhere if he were not restrained. 


1. King Jaonefl said to the fly, '^ Have I three 
kingdoms, and thoa mnat needs fly into my eye ?" 
Is there Mt enongb to meddle with npoo ifae stagey 
or in love, or at the table-^but reUgioa ? 

2. ReUgtoa .amongst men appears to me like the 
karaing they got at sduKil. Some men lf»iget all 
they iMmed, others spend apon the stock, and 
some improve it. So some men forgel all the re* 


ligien tbal whs tanght them when they wereyoang,, 
others spend npou that stock, and some improve it. 

3. Religion is like the foshion ; ooe man wears 
hU doublet slashed, another laced, anotlier plain ; 
lint every man has his doublet ; so every man has 
hia xeligion : we differ abont trimming. , 

4* Men say they are of the same^ religion, for 
qmetness'sakes bnt if the matter were well ex^ 
amined, yon wonld scarce find three any where of 
the same religion in all points. 

5. Every religion is a getting religion; forthongb 
1 myself get nothing, I anusnbordinate to those that 
do. So yon may find a lawyer in the Temple that 
gets little for the present ; but he is fitting himself 
to be in time one of those great ones that do get, 

6. Alteration of religion is dangerous, because 
we know not where it will stay : it is like a mill* 
stone that lies upon the top of a pair of stairs ; it is 
bard to remove it ; but if ouoe it be thrust off the 
first stair, it never stays till it comes to the bottom* 

7. Question, Whether is the church orthe Scrip, 
ture judge of religion? Answ. In truth, neither; 
but the state. I am troubled with a bile ; I call a 
company of chirurgeons about me ; one prescribes 
one thing, another another : I single out something 
I like, and ask you tliat stand by, and' are no chi* 
mrgeon, what you think of it ? you like it too ; 
you and I are judges of the plaster, and we bid 
them prepare it, and there is an end. Thus it is in 
rdigion : the Protestants say they will be judged 
by th« Scripture ; the Papists say so too ; bnt that 
cannot speak. A judge is no judge, except lie can 
both speak and command execution ; bnt tb^ truth 
U, thqf never intend to agree. No doubt the pope. 


where he is sapreme, is to be jndge : if he say we 
in England ought to be subject to him, then he 
mast draw his sword and make it good. 

8. By the law was tlie manual received into the 
chnrch before the Reformation ; not by the civil law 
— 4hat had nothing to do in it ; nor by the canon 
law— ^or that manual that was here, was not in 
France, nor in Spain ; hut by custom, which is the , 
common law of England; and custom is bat the 
elder brother to a parliament ; and so it will fall 
out to be nothing that the Papists say; ours is a 
parliamentary religion, by, reason the service- book 
was established by act of parliament, and never any 
service-book was so before. That will be nothing 
that the pope sent the manual: it was oars, be- 
canse the state received it. The state ttlll makes . 
the religion, and receives into it what will best agree 
with it. Why are the Venetians Roman Catholics ? 
Because the ^tate likes the religion. All the world 
knows they care not threepence for the pope. The 
council of Trent is not at this day admitted in France. 

9. Papist. Where was your religion before Lqther, 
a hundred years ago.> Proietiant, Where wa^ 
America a hundred or sizscore years ago ? Our 
religion was where the rest of the Christian church 
was. Papist. Onrreligion continued ever since the 
apostles, and therefore it is better. Protestant. So 
did ours. That there was an interruption of it, 
will fall out to be nothing, no more than if another 
earl should tell me of the earl of Kent, saying, He 
is a letter earl than he, because there was one or 
two of the family of Kent did not take the title upon , 
them; yet all that while they were really earls; 
»nd afterwards a great prince declared theni to be 


eai^s of Kent, as he that made the other family an 

10. Disputes In religion will never be ended, be- 
c^uise there wants a measure by which the bnsiness 
mronld be decided. The Puritan would be judged by 
tlie word of God ; if he would speals clearly, he 
means himself, but he is ashamed to say so ; and he 
"vronld have me believe him before a whole church, 
that has read the word of God as well as he. One 
says one thing, and another another : and there is, 
I say, no measure to end the controversy. It is just 
ats if two men were at bowls, and both judged by 
the eye ; one says it is his cast, the other says it is 
my cast ; and having no measure, the difference is 
eternal. Ben Jonson satirically expressed the vain 
disputes of divines, by Inigo Lanthorne, disputing 
with his puppet in a Bartholomew fair : " It is so;" 
«* it is not so :" " it is so ;" " it is not so :" cry- 
ing tlius, one to another, a quarter of an bour to- 

11. In matters of religion to be ruled by one 
that writes against his advenary, and throws all the 
dirt he can in his face, is, as' if in p6int of good 
manners a man should be governed by one whom 
he sees at cuffs with another, and thereupon thinks 
himself bound to give the next man he meets a box 
on the ear. 

12. It is to no purpose to labour to reconcile re- 
ligions, when the interest of princes will not suffer 
it. It is well if they could be reconciled so far, that 
they should not cut one another's throats. 

13. There is all the reason in the W9rld divines 
should not be suffered to go a hair beyond their 
bounds, for fear of breeding confusion, since there 


now lie so mapy religions on foot. The matter was 
not so narrowly to be looked after when there was 
but one religion in Christendom ^ the reat would 
cry him down for an heretic^ and there was nobody 
to side with him. 

14. We look after religion aa the batcher did after 
his knife, when he had it in his mouth. 

15. Religion is made a jog^ler^s paper; now it is 
a horse, now it is alantern^ now it is a boar, now it 
is a man. To aerre euds^^ religion is tarned into all 

16^. Pretending religion and the law of God, is to 
set' all things loose : when a man has no mind to do 
something, he ought to do by his contract with man, 
then he gets a test, and interprets it aa he pleases, 
and so thinks to get loose. 
. 17. Some men's pretending religion, is like the 
roaiing boys* way of challenges ; " their reputation 
is dear, it doea not stand with the honour of a gentle- 
man ;" when, God knows, they have neither honour 
npr reputation about them. 

18. They talk mncb of settling religion : religion 
is well enough settled already, if we would let it 
alone. Methinks we might look after, &c. 

19. If men would say they took arms for any 
thing but religion, they might be beaten out of it 
by reason ; out of that they never can, for they will 
not believe you whatever you say. 

20. The very arcanum of pretending reli^aa in 
all wars is, that something may be found out in 
which all men may have interest. In this the 
groom has as much interest as the lord. Were it 
for land,, one has a thousand acres, and the other 
hiut oncj^ he would not venture so far as he th»t has 


a thoiuand : but reUgton is eqval to both. Had ail. 
men land alike, by a leaf agraria, then all men 
would say they fonght for land. 


MTfay should 1 thinic all the fourth commandment 
belongs to me, when all the fifth does not ? What 
land will thiie Lord give me for honouring my father ? 
It was spoken to the Jews with reference to the 
land of Canaan ; but the meaning is. If I honour 
my parents, God will also bless me. We read the 
Goiumandments in the church service, as we do 
David's Psalms, not that all there concerns us, but 
a great deal of them does* 


1. Chrbt suffered Judas to talce the communion. 
Those ministers that keep their parishioners from 
it, because they will not do as they will have them, 
revenge, rather than reform. 

2. No man can tell whether I am fit to receive 
the sacrament ; for though I were fit the day before, 
when he examined me, at least appeared so to him $ 
yet how can be tell what nn I have committed that 
night, or the next morning, or what impious athe- 
istical thoughts I may have about me, when I am 
approaching to the very table ? 


We can best understand the meaning of tf-wnioM, 
salvation, from the Jews, to whom the Saviour was 



promised. They Mdithst thtniielwn fsbtmMt ktire 
the chief place of lisppinest in theother werld ; Imt 
the OentileSy that were good meo^ fthovM^kowlee 
have their portion of Miss there too. Now by 
Christ the partition-waU ht bix>1cen down, and the 
Gentiles that believe in him, are admitted to the 
same place of bliss with the Jews: and why.tHen 
should not that portion of happiness still remain to 
them who do not belieme in Christ, so mo- 
rally good ? ' This is a> charitable opinion. 


Id a tnraiiled state save as.mneh< tot yoor ovnias 
you can. A dog had been at market to buy a shoiii« 
der of mutton ; coming home he met two dogs by 
the way, that quarrtiUedcwith him ; he laid down 
his shoulder of mutton, and fell to fighting with one 
of them ; in the mean time the other do§ Cell to 
eating his mutton* He seeing that, left the dog he 
was fighting w»th, aad'fell upon him that was eat* 
log ; then the other dog Ml to eat : when he per>>. 
ceived there was no remedy, but wkicb of them 
soever he fought widial, hiS'matton wasjin danger., 
he ^thought he would have as- much' o£ iti as he 
could, and thereupon, gave orerfightingj and feU to 
eating himselft 


1. They that are agsdnst superstition, oftentimes 
run into it of the wrong side. If I will wear all co- 
lour but black, then am 1 superstifctoas in nor.wear- 
ing bladu 

JMABNIAttlk. 13 L 

2. Tbey pretend not to abide the cross because it 
is superstitious: for xny|>iUrt, I will believe them, 
when I see them throw their money out of their 
podJMtM^ and not till then* 

3« If there be ai^ «operstiiion tmly and properly 
«» called, it is their obaerving the Sabbath after th^ 
Jewish 'xiamier. 


1. Heretofore the parliament was wary what 
subsidies they gave to thelclng, because they had no 
account 'y but now they care not how much they 
give of the subiJects' money, because they give it with 
one hand, and receive it with the other ; and so 
npon the matter give it themselves. In the mean 
time what a case ilie'Attt^ctB of England are in I if 
the men they have sent to the parliament misbehave 
tliemselves, they cannot help H, because the parlia- 
ment is eternal. 

2. A subsidy was counted the fiffhpart of a mimh 
estate, and so fifty subsidies is five-and- forty times 
more than a man is woi'th. 


The name of aimony was begot i« the oanon iaw<; 
-the -fint statute agaiast it was in qooen iUiaabeth'4 
time. SInee the Aeformatiottf fimeny has been fro- 
><l«e&t : one wason why it was sot practised in 
time of popery, was the pope's provision ; no man 
•was Jiire^o heatowhia «wa boaeiSico* 



' 1. Mr. Noy brought in ship-money first for inarU 
time towns ; bat that was liKe putting in a little 
auger, that afterwards you may put in a greater. He 
that polls down the first brick, does the main 
worlf ; afterwards it is easy to pull down the wall. 
2. They that at first would not pay ship-money 
till it was decided, did liice brave men, though per- 
haps they did no good by the trial ; bnt they that 
stand out since, and suffer themselves to be di- 
strained, never questioning those that do it, do 
pitifully, for so they only pay twice as much as they 


1, We have had no national synod since the king- 
dom hath been settled, as now it is, only provincial : 
and there will be this inconveniency, to call so many 
divines together ; it will be to put power in their 
hands, who are too apt to usurp it, as if the laity 
were bound by their determination : no, let the - 
laity consult with divines on all sides, hear what 
they say, and make themselves masters of thcair 
reasons ; as they do by any other profession, when 
they have a difference before them : for example, 
goldsmiths ; they inquire of them, if such a jewel 
be of such a value, and snch a stone of such a value, 
hear them^ and then, being rational men, Judge 

2. Why should you have a synod, when yon have a 
convocation already, which is a synod ? Would you 


bafe a soperfetation of another synotl ? The clergy 
of Englandy when they cast off the pope, iuhmitted 
themselves to the civil power, and so have oon- 
tinned ; hot these challenge to be jure divino^ and 
so to be above the civil powj^r : these challenge 
power to call before their presbyteries all persons 
for all sins directly against the law of God, as proVed 
to be sins by necessary consequence. If yon would 
bay gloves, send for a glover or two, not Glover's- 
ball ; ccmsalt with some divines, not send for a 

3. There must be some laymen in the synod, 
to overtook the clergy, lest they spoil the civil work ; 
just as when the good woman puts a cat into the 
milk-house to kill a moose, she sends her maid to 
look after the cat, lest the cat should eat up the 

4. In the ordinance for the assembly, the lords 
and commons go under the names of learned, godly» 
and judicious divines; there is no difference put 
betwixt them and the ministers in the context. 

5. It is not unusual in the assembly to revoke 
their votes, by reason they make so much haste, but 
it is that will make them scorned. You never hfiard 
of a council revoked an act of its own making ; they 
have been wary in that, to keep up their infallibi- 
lity; if they did anything, they took aiyay the whole 
council^ and yet we would be thought infallible as 
aoy body. It is not enough to say, the house of 
commons revoke their votes, for theirs are but civil 
troths which they by agreement create and un* 
create, as they please : but the truths the synod 
deals in are divine ; and when they have voted a 
thing, if it be then true, it was true before ; not trn^ 

i24 aMiDBWAfu. 

because they voted Uy'nor does It ^me^to bejime 
becauie they voted otherwiBe. 

ۥ Sbbsciibiiigin a synods or to theavUdea of a 
synod, is no soch terrible thing as they ^uifce U^be*- 
eansey if I am of a-^^mod, it Is agreed, eilhec tamtly 
or espreasly. That which the ms^ar part -deler- 
m&aea, the rest areiiMroived in^ andtlienilone Ifi«2»- 
8ovlhe,'tfaoogh my own private-oplnioo beotfafirwlse^ 
and upon the same ground, I •maf[, irithoat «cniph^ 
subscribe to what those ha^Pe dfttenmnedt whom I 
sent, though my private opinion be otherwise ; ha^ 
ving respect to that which as the gsoandofaUasaem* 
hKes, the nu^or part carries It* 


At first we gave thanks for every victory aa aooii 
as ever it wte obtained, but since we ihaie liad 
many now, we can stay a good whUe. We Are psM 
like ft child ; give him a plum, he makes lus leg^ 
give him a second plnm, he makes another leg i «K 
imtf when bis belly is fiiU, he Ibi^tswhathe oiQ^ht 
to 4I0 ; then his nurse, or somebody else that stands 
by him, puts him in mind of his duty, ** Where is 


1. Tithes are more pmd in kted m Sngland,thaa 
en all Italy and France. In France, they Jiane had 
•improprlatioDsaloagtime:; wehad nose Jn/EaglmUl 
fill Henry the ^Ightti. 

' 2. To make an impropriation, tlsere was to be 
the consent of the Inatmbeut, tbe patfon, and the 

SBCDBlttAMiA. 13ft 

khi^S llmi'St WM coBfirmedliy the pope. WIlJKmt 
a& thts tlie pope could make no imppopriation. 

3^. Op wkftvif the pope-gave the tithes to aDyraao, 
nraar they theiefore be tatten away ? If the pope 
gives me a Jewd, will you therefore take if awi^v 
from me ? 

4. Abraham paid tithecto BAdchizedec ; what then ? 
It was very well done of him. It doeft not &llow 
therefore that I must pay tithes, no more than t am 
bowid to, imitate any other action of Abraham's. 

5. It is. ridiculous to say the tithes are God's, 
part, and therefore the clergy must have them : why^ 
90 they are if the layman has them. It is as if one, 
of my lady Rent's muds should be sweeping thi^. 
roomer and another of them should come and. take 
awvy- the broom, and tell for a reason why she 
should part with it,/* It is my lady's broom :" as if 
it were not my lad^s bjt>om,,wbich of themsoever 
had it. 

6. They consulted in Oxford where they might 
fiod.the best,argumentfQE their tithes,, setting,aside 
the Jui divknum: they were, advised to my History of 
Tithes— a book so much cried down by them for- 
merly ; in which I dare boldly say, there are more 
arguments for them than arie extant together any 
where : upon this, one writ me word, that n>y Hi- 
Mory^f Tithes was now become like Peleua's./foji0, 
ta wound and to heal. I toldhim, in my answer,, t 
thoAght: I QMdd dt him with' a betlBK instance : it 
wai poiailde it migbtr aodergo.^ the same- fate^ that; 
Ad(istolle,.AnCen, andAverj^oeadid in.Franoe> some 
iiine hnndred years ago;, which were eacommnni^ 
eated by StApbim^. bishop of Parish, (by that very. 
namei^Boommmiicated), bwsMuethatvkJiid otleaciv* 


iDg punled and tronbled their divinity : bat finding 
themsdves at a loss, some forty years after, which 
is much about the time since I writ my history, 
they were called iu again, and so have continu^ 
everunoe, % 


1. Tliere is no prince in Christendom bnt U di- 
rectly a tradesman, though in another way than an 
ordinary tradesman. For the purpose, I ha\*e a 
man ; I bid him lay out twenty shillings in snch 
commodities, bnt I tell him for every shilling he 
lays ont I will have a penny : I trade as well as he. 
This every prince does in his customs. 

2. That which a man is bred up in, he thinks no 
cheating; as your tradesman thinics not so of his 
profession, but calls it a mystery : whereas, if yon 
would teach a mercer to malte his silks heavier than 
what he has been used to, he would peradventure 
think that to be cheating. 

3. Every tradesman professes to cheat me, that 
asks for his commodity twice as much as it is 


Say what you will against tradition, we know the 
signifidation of words by nothing but tradition. Yoo 
will say the Scripture was written by the Holy Sfdrit; 
bnt do yon understand that language it was writ in f 
No. Then, far example, take thesewords, Inprb^ 
ciyh erat verbum. How do yon know those words 
Signify-*-*' In the beginning was the word,**— but by 
ttiiditioD ; because somebody has told you so } 



1. The fathers using to speak rhetorically, brought 
np transabstantiation ; as if, because it is oommonly 
saldf Amicus ^i alter utem, one should go about to 
prove a man and hia friend are all one. That 
opiDion i3 only rhetwic turned into logic. 

2. There is no greater argument, though not usedj^ 
against transnbstantiation, than the apostles, at their 
first council, forbidding blood and sufibcation. Would 
Ibey forbid bloody and yet enjoin tlie eating of blood 

3i«u The best way for a pious man, is to address 
himself to the sacrament with that ]?everQnce and 
devotion^ as if Christ were really there present. 


It IS not seasonable to call a man traitor that has 
au army aft his heels. One with an army is a gal» 
laat man» My lady G>tton was in the right, when 
she laughed at the duchess of Richmond for taking 
s«ch state upoa her, when she could coqamand no 
foipces. *' She a duchess ! there is in Flanders a da* 
chess indeed }" meaning the arch* duchess* 


The second person is made of a piece of bread by 
the Papist, the third person is made of his own 
frenzy, malice, ignorance, and folly, by the round- 
h»id. To all these, the Spirit is intituled^ One 
t^e bakei* makes ; the other the cobbler ; and be- 


twixt those two, I think the first person is suffi- 
ciently abased. 


1. The Aristotelians say. All truth is contained in 
Aristotle in one place or another. Galileo makes 
Simplicins say so, but shows the absurdity of that 
speech, by answering, ** AU truth is contained in a 
lesser compass ;" viz, in the alphabet. Aristotle is 
not blamed for mistaking sometimes ; but Aristo- 
telians for maintaining those mistakes. They should 
acknowledge the good they have from him, and 
leave him when he is in the wrong. There never 
breathed that person to whom mankind was more 

2. The way to find out the tmth is by others' mis- 
takings : for if I was to go to such a place, and one 
had gone before me on the right-hand, and he was 
out ; another had gone on the left-hand, and he was 
out ; this would direct me to keep the middle way, 
that peradventure would bring me to the plaee I de- 
sired to go. 

S. In troubled water, you can iicarce see your 
face, or see it very little, till the water be quiet 
and stand still : so in troubled times you can see 
little truth ; when times are quiet and settled, 
then truth appears. 


1. Trials are by one of these three ways ; by con- 
fession, or by deraun-er.; that is, confessing the 
faet^ but denying it to be that wherewith a man is 


charged : for example, denying U to be treason, if 
a man be charged with treason ; or by a jnry. 

3. Ordalium was a trial ; and was either by going 
over nine red hot ploughshares, (as in the case of 
qneen Emma, accused for lying with the bishop of 
Winchester, over which she being led blindfold, 
and having passed all her irons, aslced when she 
should come to her trial ;) or it was by taking a red 
hot conlter in a man's hand, and carrying it so many 
steps, and then casting it from him : as soon as this 
was done, the hands or the feet were to be boand up, 
and certain charms to be said, and a day or two 
after to be opened ; if the parts were whole, the 
party was jadged to be innocent ; and so on the 

3. The rack is used no where as in England : in 
other countries it is used in judicature, when there 
is a semiplena probath, a half proof against a man ; 
then to see if they can make it full, they rack him 
if he will not confess : but here in England they take 
a man and rack him, I do not know why, nor 
when ; not in time of Judicature, but when some- 
body bids. 

• 4. Some men, before they come to their trial, are 
cozened to confess upon examination : upon this 
trick, they are made to believe somebody has con- 
fessed before them ; and then they think it a piece 
of honour to be clear and ingenuous, and that de- 
stroys them. 


1. The best argument why Oxford should have 
precedence of Cambridge is the act of parliament^ 


by which Oxford is made a body ; made what it is ; 
and Cambridge is made what it is ; aod in the act it 
takes place. Besides, Oxford has the best moon- 
ments to show. 

2, It was well said of one, hearing of a hi»tory 
lecture to be foanded in the university ; '* VFoold 
to Qod>" says he, *' they would direct a lecture of 
discretion there ! this would do more good there a 
hundred times. 

3. He that comes from the university to govern 
the state, before he is acquainted with the men and 
manners of the place, does just as if he should come 
into the presence chamber all dirty, with his boots 
on* his^ riding coat, and his head all daubed, lliey 
may serve him well enough in the way, but when he 
comes to court, he must conform to the place. 


Suppose a man find by his own indination he has 
no mind to marry, may he not then vow chastity? 
^ntw, if he does, what a fine thing hath he done ? 
It is as if a man did not love cheese ; and then he 
would vow to God Almighty never to eat cheese. 
He that vows can mean no more in sense than this ; 
to do his utmost endeavour to lieep his vow. 


1. The Jews were forbidden to take use one 
of another, but they were not forbidden to take 
it of other nations : that being so, I see no 
reason why I may not as well take use fi>r my 
mopeyj as rent for my house. It is a vam thing 


to say, money begets not money ; for that no donbt 
It does. 

2. Would it not look oddly to a stranger, that should 
come into this land, and bear in our pulpits nsory 
preached against, and yet the law allow it ? Many 
men use it ; perhaps some churchmen themselves. 
No bishop nor ecclesiastical jadge, that pretends 
power to punish other ftitilts, dares punish, or at 
least does punish, any man for dotog it. 


The gnmnd of the ordinary's taking part of a 
man*6 estate, who died without a will, to pious uses, 
WHS this : to gire it somebody to pray that his soul 
might be dellTered out of purgatory : now tl»e pious 
uses come into his own pocket. It was well ez* 
pressed l>y John o' Fowls in the play, who acted the 
priest : one that was to be hanged, being brought 
to the ladder, would fain hare given something to 
tlie poor; lie feels for his purse, which John o' 
Fowls had picked out of his pocket before: missing 
it, cries -out, he had lost his purse. Now be in- 
tended to hare given something to the poor : John 
o* Fowls bid him be pacified, for the poor had it al- 


t. Do not undervahie an enemy by whom you 
have been, worsted. When our countrym^ came 
home ftom fighting with the Saracens, and were 
beaten by them, they pictured theln M4th huge, big, 
terrible faces, as you still see the sign of the Sara* 


ceu's head la, when in truth they were Iik« other 
men : but this they did to save their ovm credits. 

2» Martial law, in general, means nothing but 
the martial law of this or that place : with ns to be 
used in fervare beliif in the face of the enemy, not 
iu time of peace ; there they can take away neither 
limb nor life : the commanders need not complain 
for want of it, because our ancestors have done gal- 
lant things without it, , 
, 3. Quest, Whether may subjects take op arms 
against their prince ? Antw, Conceive it thns : here 
lies a shUling betwixt ypu and me ; ten pence of the 
shilling is yours, twopence is mine ; by agreement, 
I am as much king of my twopence, as yon of your 
tenpeoce : if yon, therefore, go about to take away 
my twopence, I will defend it : for there you and I 
are equal, both princes. 

4. Or thus: two supreme powers meet; one 
says to the other, ** Give me your land ; if you will 
not, I will take it from you," The other, beoiuse he 
thinks himself too weak to resbt him, tells him : ** Of 
nine pans I will give yon three ; so I -may quietly 
enjoy the rest, aud I will become your tributary." 
Afterwards the prince comes to exact sis parts, and 
leaves but three : the contract then is broken^ and 
they are in parity again. 

&. To Iluow what ol>edience is due to the prince, 
you must look into the contract betwixt him and his 
people ; as if yon would know what rent is due from 
the tenant to the landlord, you must look into the 
lease : when the contract is broken, and there Is no 
third person to judge, then the decision is by arms ; 
and this is the case between the prince and the Mb* 
ject. w 


6. Queii. What law is there to take up arms 
against the prince, in caae be break his covenant } 
^mw, Tboagh there be no written law for it, yet 
there Is cnstom, which is the best law of the king- 
dom; for in England they have always done it. 
There is nothing expressed between the king of 
England and the king of France^ that if either in- 
vades the other's territory, the other shall take np 
arms against him ; and yet they do it npon such an 

7. It is all one to be plundered by a troop of horse^ 
or to have a man's goods taken from him by an or- 
der from the council table. To him that dies, it is 
all one whether it be by a penny halter, or a silk 
garter ; yet I confess the silk garter pleases more ; 
and like tronts, we love to be tickled to death. 

8. The soldiers say they fight for honour ; when 
the troth Is, they have their honour in their pocket ; 
and they mean the same thing that pretend to figl^t 
for r^igion : just as a parson goes to law with his 
parishioners, he says, for the good of his successors^ 
that the church may not lose Its right ; wlien the 
meaniiig is, to get the tithes Into his own pocket. 

9. We govern this war as an unskilful man does a 
casting-net : if he has not the right trick to east 
the net off his shoulder, the leads will pull him Into 
the river. I am afraid we shall pull ourselves into 

10. We look after the particulars of a battle, be- 
caiue we live In the very time of war; whereas of 
battles past, we hear nothing but the number slidn. 
Just as for the death of a man, when he is sick, 
we talk how he slept this night, and that night ; 
what h6 eatj and what he drank : but wheo he is 

144 8BLDENIANA. ' 

dead) we only say, he died of a fefer^ or name his 
disease ; and thefe Is an end. 

11. Boccaline has this passage of soMiers : they 
came to Apollo to have their profession made the 
eighth liberal science, which he granted. As soon 
as it was noised np and down, it came to the bntch- 
ers, and they desired their profession might be made 
the ninth ; *' for/' say they, '* the soldiers have this 
honour for the itillin| of men : now we liill as well as 
they; but we kill l)easts for the preserving of men, 
and why shonld not we have honour likewise done 
us ?" Apollo could not answer their reasons, so he 
reversed his sentence, and made the soldier's trade 
a mystery, as the butcherls is. 


The law against mtches does not prove ^ere be 
any ; but it punisbes the raalioe c»f those people, 
that use sndi means to talie away men's lives : if 
one should profess that by turning bis bat tfarioe, 
and crying bm, he could take away a map's life, 
though in troth be could do no such thing s yet this 
were a>nst law made 1^ the state, that whosoever 
should torn his hat thrice, and cry buz, with an in- 
tention to take away a man's life, shall be pot to 


1. He chat haCh a haodsooe wife, by otbMr men 
is thdtfglK happy s h Is a pleasure lo look vpoa hor, 
and be In her company | but the hosbaod Is cloyed 
with her : we are never oonient with whatwthave. 

3. Yoa «hall aee a monkey sometimes, that has 


leen playing up and down the garden, at length 
eap up to the top of the wall, bnt hU clog hangs a 
^reat way below on this side, llie bishop's wife is 
ike that monkey's clog : himself is got up very 
kigfa, takes place of the temporal barons, bnt his 
vife comes a great way behind. 

3. It is reason, a man that will have a wife should 
36 at the charge of her trinkets, and pay all the 
scores she sets on him : he that will keep a mon- 
key, it is fit h^ should pay for the glasses he breaks. 


1. A wise man should never resolve upon any 
thing, at least never let the world know his resolu- 
tion : for if he cannot arrive at that, he is ashamed. 
How manv things did the king resolve in his decla- 
ration concerning Scotland, never to do, and yet did 
them all ? A man must do according to accidents 
and emergencies. 

2. Never tell your resolution beforehand: but 
when the cast is thrown, play it as well as you 
can to win the game yon are at : it is but <.>lly to 
study how to ' play size-ace, when yon know not 
whether you shall throw it or no. 

3. Wise men say nothing in dangerous times. 
The lion, you know, called the sheep, to ask her if 
his breath smelled : she said. Aye ; he bit off her 
head for a fool. He called the wolf, and asked him : 
herald, No ; he tore him in pieces for a flatterer. 
At last he called the fox, and asked him : truly, he 
had got a cold, and could not smell ! King James 
was pictured, &c. 




1. Wit and wisdom differ : wit is upon the sod' 
den turn ; wisdom is in bringing about ends. 

2. Nature must be the ground worli: of wit and 
art : otherwise whatever is done will prove bat 

>Jac1c> pudding's Work, 

3. Wit must growlilce fingers : if it be taken from 
others, it is lilce plums stuck upon black thorns : 
there they are awhile, but they come to nothing. 

4. He that will give himself to all manner of 
ways to get money, may be-rich ; so he that lets fly 
all he knows or thinks, may by chance be satirically 
witty. Honesty sometimes keeps a man from grow- 
ing rich, and civility from being witty. 

5. Women ought not to know their own wit, be- 
cause they will still be showing it, and so spoil it : 
like a child that will continually be showing its fine 
new coat ; till, at length, it aU bedaubs it with its 
pah hands. 

6. Fine wits destroy themselves with their own' 
plots, in meddting with great affairs of state : they 
commonly do as the ape that saw the gunner pat 
bullets in the cannon, and was pleased with it, 
and he would be doing so too : at last, he puts him- 
self into the piece, and so both ape and bullet were 
shot away together. 


1. Let the women have power of their heads, be' 
caute of the angels. The reason of the words he- 
cauie of the angels, is this : the Greek church held 
an opinion that the angels fell in love with women : 


tliM fancy St. Paul discreetly catclies, and uses it 
as an argnment to persuade tliem to modesty. 

2. The grant of a place is not good by the canon 
law before a man be dead : opon this ground some 
mischief might be plotted against him in present 
possession, by poisoning, or some other way. Upon 
the same reason, a contract made with a woman 
during her husband's life was not valid. 

.3. Men are not troubled to hear a man dis- 
praised ; because they linow, though he l>e naught, 
there is worth in othePs : but womep are mightily 
troubled to hear any of them spoken ^inst ; as if 
the sex itself were guilty of some unworthiness. 

4. Women and princes must both trust somebody f 
and they are happy or unhappy, according to the de- 
sert of those under whose hands they f all : if a Qian 
knows how to manage the favour of a lady, her ho* 
iiour is safe, and so is a prince's. 

5. An opinion grounded upon that. Gen. vi. T^ 
sons of God taw the daugMert of mm that they were 


1. It was the manner of the Jews, if the year did 
not fall out right, but that it was dirty for the peo- 
ple to come up to Jerusalem at the feast of the pass- 
over, or that their com was not ripe for their first 
fruits, to intercalate a month, and so have, as it 
were, two Februaries; thrusting up the year still 
higher, March into April's place, April into May's 
place, &c. : whereupon it is impossible for us to 
know when our Savi lur was born, or when he died. 

2. The year la -. *i,«er the year of the moon, or 
the year of the sun ; there is not above eleven days' 

148 SE1.DEN1ANA. 

difference : our moveable feasts are according to the 
year of the moon, else they should be fixed. 

3. Though they reckon ten days sooner beyond 
sea, yet It does not follow their spring Is sooner 
than ours: we keep the same time in natural 
things; and their ten days sooner, and our ten days 
later. In those things mean the self same time ; just 
as twelve tous in French are tenpence in En^sh. 

4. The lengthening of days is not suddenly per- 
ceived till they are grown a pretty deal longer ; be- 
cause the sun, though it be in a circle, yet it seems 
for a while to go in a right line : for take a segment 
of a great circle especially, and yon shall doubt 
whether it be straight or no : but when that sun is 
got past that line, then yon presently perceive the 
days are lengtliened. Thus it is in the winter and 
summer solstice, which is indeed the true reason of 

5. The eclipse of the sun is, when It Is new 
moou} the eclipse of the moon when it is full. 
They say Dionysius was converted by the edipse 
that happened at our Saviour^s death, because it was 
neither of these, and so could not be natural. 


. One would wonder Christ should whip the buyers 
and sellers out of the temfde, and nobody offer to 
resist him, consideriDg what opinion they had of 
him : but the reason was, they had a law, that who- 
soever did profane sanctUatem Dei aut templi, the 
holiness of God or the temple, before ten persons, 
it was lawful for any of them to kill him, or to do 
any thing this side killing him ; as whipping him. 

SSLDfiNlANA. 149' 

or the like : and heoce it was, tliat wlien one itrnclc 
oni* SavioQi: before thejadge, where it was not law* 
f ul to fltrilce, as it is not with us at this day, he only 
replies : *' If I Have spoken evil, bear witness of the 
evil ; bnt if well, why smitest thou me ?" He says 
nothing against their smiting him, incase he had 
been guilty of speaking evil, that is, blasphemy ; 
and they could have proved it against him. They 
that pot this law in execution were called zealots : 
bat afterwards they committed man^ villanies. 



Biographical PfefiMe ,. 3 

Abbeys, Priories, Ac IS 

Articles l6 

Baptisin 17 

Bastard 18 

Bible, Scriptuve ii« 

Bishops before the ParUament • • • 88 

Bishops in the Parliament ••••.••..• S3 

Bishopsout of the. Parliament S7 

Books, Authors 31 

Canon Law .. , •• ••• 33 

Ceremony .« ••&• 

Chancellor 34 

Qianging Sides . . • • s6. 

Christmas, . •«* .....SS 

Christians 36 

Church ..« 37 

Church of Rome ••« •••• ••• ...Sa 

Churdies '.« ib» 

City . 39 

Clergy • • iib. 

High Commission .» • . 41 

House of Commons t6« 

152 INDEX. ^ 


CoateatHaa. •• ••••• • • • f^ 

Competency ••• *^* 

Great Conjunction ^ 

CoDBcience ;•••• • ••i6* 

Consecrated Places '..44 

Contract! .•••••••••• .v**^ 

Council .« ..40 

Convocation • ^* 

Creed 47 

Damnation • • ib. 

Devils 48 

Self Denial SO 

Duel t^* 

Epitoph SI 

Equity St 

Evil Speaking ' it 

Exe6nununicati(»i ..••...«•• ••^* 

Faith and Works 56 

Fasting Days • • • • <^« 

Fathers and Sons » . S7 

Fines . . . • ^ «*• 

FieeWiU , » 

Friars ^ • • t&* 

Friends . <^* 

Genealogy of Christ • *^« 

Gentlemen ••••• S9 

Gold 60 

Hall ....«*. 

Hell <5l 

Holydays • ^ 

Humility »*• 

Idohitry . ; • ' . 6S 

Jews ....•.••••••••••*^' 

Invincible Ignorance .• ••••'&• 

Images .....* ^ 

Imperial Constitutions • '• • • , * 6b 

Imprisonment • • *^' 

Incendiaries ..«•«• **• 

INDEX. 153 


Independenqr . •.« • .66 

Things Indifltereut ,67 

Public Interest • ib. 

Human InTention ib. 

Judgments 68 

Judge ib. 

Juggling 69 

Jurisdiction »6, 

Jus Divinum 70 

Kin^ . . • . « ib. 

King of England ••.•• 72 

The King - 73 

Knights' Senritie 75 

Land , , ib. 

iMDgaage 76 

Law • ib. 

Law of Nature 78 

Learning .•.••.••••.•.,,i6. 

LectUretls » 79 

Libels 80 

Litui^ ib. 

Lords in th6 Parliament ib. 

Lords before the Parliament . 81 

Marriage 82 

Marriage of Cousin-Germans . •••••.•83 

Meastire of Things ib. 

Difference Of Hen 84 

Minister Divine 85 

Mon^ .. ...••• ... .. , , , BQ 

Moral Honesty .......' go 

Mortgage gi 

Numbef ib, 

Oathii gz 

Oracles 94 

Opinion , t6. 

Parity 95 

Parliament 96 

Parson 98 

Patience ib. 

154 I^DEX. 


pMce •... •••••99 

Penance . ••••• ^ • m ib. 

People ..•*. 

Pleuure , ••...•..••••• 100 

Philoraphy 10« 

Poetry ih. 

Pope - r , , . . 101 

Popery ••••• • • 10^ 

Power, SUte , ib. 

Prayer • 108 

Preaching ■ . 110 

Predestination ..,.116 

Preferment .••••••• t^« 

Premunire , , , •••••118 

Prerogatire •••••••• ^* 

Presbytery J 19 

Priests of Rome 190 

Prophecies . « ISl 

Proverbs ••••••«•••••••• s^* 

Question 182 

Reason • , . t6. 

Retaliation ~ , . . 123 

Reverence •••••.• ^ ^ ib. 

Non-residency ••• «,ie4 

Religion ,..<*. 

Sabbath . • • 129 

Sacrament •••••••••• ib* 

Salvation ib. 

State . . . ;. ISO 

Superstition ,,,i&. 

Subsidies 131 

Simony ••••••••« •••••••^* 

Ship Mobey . . . • . • 132 

Synod AssemUy • •• • » • ib, 

Thank^ving 13« 

Tithes ib. 

Trade 1S6 

Tradition • . <*• 

Transttbstantiation 137 

INDEX. 155 


Traitor 1ST 

Trinity «*, 

Truth 138 

Trial ^ ib. 

Unlvenity 139 

Vows 140 

Uaurjr ...•.•••s^* 

Pious Uses 14L 

War ib. 

Witches M* 

Wife . ib. 

Wisdom 145 

Wit U6 

Women . » •••••.<&• 

Vear 1*7 

Zealots I4ft 


Printed liy T. Davison, WhItefHars.