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<DATE>2007-11-19</DATE>
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<NAME>Elspeth Healey</NAME>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<P>THE Sage Senator DELINEATED: OR, A DISCOURSE OF The Qualifications, Endowments, Parts, external and internal, Office, Duty and Dignity OF A PERFECT POLITICIAN, WITH A Di&s;cour&s;e of KINGDOMS, Republiques, &amp; States-Popular.
As Al&s;o, Of KINGS and PRINCES: To which is annexed, <HI>The New Models of Modern Policy.</HI></P>
<P><HI>By</HI> J. G. <HI>Gent.</HI></P>
<P><HI>London,</HI> Printed by <HI>Ja: Cottrel,</HI> for <HI>Sa<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1+ letters">. Speed,</HI> at the &s;igne of the Printing-Pre&s;s in St. <HI>Paul</HI>'s Church-yard. 1660.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="to the reader">
<PB REF="2">
<PB REF="2" MS="y">
<HEAD>To the Reader.</HEAD>
<P>_THere are few or none (I pre|&s;ume) even among the Vul|gar, but under&s;tand that Republique or Kingdom to be mo&s;t happy, that lives mo&s;t peaceably: Yet what doth mo&s;t conduce to the Welfare and Fe|licity of King and People, hath been long debated by the Ancient as well as Modern Philo&s;ophers, and Politicians.</P>
<P>Some are of opinion, that good Laws work and frame the people to a civil life; o|thers think it lies in the power of good E|ducation: &s;ome imagine that it proceeds from the Influence and Operation of the Stars upon &s;ublunary Bodies; and others, from the Endeavors and Examples of good Kings. To the la&s;t, we &s;ub&s;cribe: for the peace and tranquillity of a Nation proceeds primarily from the &s;plendor of Princely <GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="3+ letters">rtues; which are &s;o glorious and attra|ctive,
<PB REF="3">
that they do not onely incite the Sub|ject to gaze on them, but with an exta&s;ied admiration, to adore and affect them, &s;o that they are &s;timulated to an imitation, as far as in them lies: and when Prince and People mutually labour in the pur&s;uit of Vertue <HI>(pro viribus,</HI> as we &s;ay) according to the utmo&s;t extent of their ability, how can there chu&s;e but be a re&s;ult of Unanimity, Peace and Concord? To perfect this, 'tis requi&s;ite that a Senate be elected; which is a certain number of grave, wi&s;e, di&s;creet Per&s;ons, that may help their Soveraign to pull in or &s;lacken the reins of Government, according as 'tis judg'd convenient; by the Nobility of who&s;e Per&s;ons, and the Pru|dence of who&s;e Con&s;ultations, married to the Judgement of the King, the quiet and glory of the People is infinitely promoted and pre&s;erved. To which intent and pur|po&s;e, we have here deciphered <HI>A SAGE SENATOR,</HI> with all qualifications ten|ding to his Perfection; his Office, Duty, Honour, Preferment and Repute among the Ancients, as well as tho&s;e of latter Ages; fir&s;t a&s;&s;erting, and then proving their nece&s;&s;ity, and the benefit that accrews to a Kingdom or Republike from their grave and &s;erious Debates in Coun&s;el, and
<PB REF="3">
their indu&s;trious management of political Affairs. By &s;uch Union between King and Council, Prince and People; the whole Nation will undoubtedly flouri&s;h with a perpetual Verdure, as if an immortal peace were entail'd upon them and their po&s;teri|ty for ever; Laws will have their full force and efficacie, as well for the puni&s;hment of Malefactors, as the Reward of honourable de&s;erving Per&s;ons: Ju&s;tice will run in its proper current, and not be diverted to &s;ini|&s;ter and ba&s;e ends, by lucre or &s;elf-intere&s;t; two Hammers that are able to knock a Kingdom in pieces. Learning will be ad|vanced, and the Learned promoted accor|ding to their merit and de&s;ert: without this, no Kingdom can &s;tand; take away the Pen, and the Pike will be unnece&s;&s;ary. 'Twas the Saying of a potent Monarch, That, <HI>He received more benefit from his dead, then living Coun&s;ellours;</HI> intimating thereby, that his Library did afford him better Coun&s;el then his Senate. Learning and Senators, like <HI>Hippocrates</HI> his Twins, are in|&s;eparable; they cannot dwell a&s;under; e|&s;pecially in &s;uch a one as is here de&s;cribed. And though I am &s;ufficiently &s;en&s;ible, that a di&s;cour&s;e of tho&s;e Qualities that are re|quired in a Perfect Politician, is, not onely
<PB REF="4">
a work of great Importance, but attended by a Troop of oppo&s;ing Difficulties: Yet I have endeavored to di&s;play the Ancient Go|vernment of the mo&s;t famous Kingdoms, Re|publiques and States Popular, according to the Statutes, Laws and Cu&s;toms of the mo&s;t potent, as well as prudent Monarchs. And my hope is, (though my imbecility can lay no claim to merit) that my earne&s;t de&s;ire to promote the publick good, will plead my excu&s;e; and I am confident, there is no per|&s;on that is unprejudiced, if commonly cour|teous, but will accept of my humble De|voirs; which is the very highth of the Au|thors De&s;ires; who at this pre&s;ent hath no more to &s;ay, but bid thee, Reader,</P>
<TRAILER>Farewel,</TRAILER>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>J. G.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="table of contents">
<PB REF="4" MS="y">
<HEAD>The Table.</HEAD>
<LIST>
<HEAD>The Fir&s;t BOOK.</HEAD>
<LABEL>Chap. 1.</LABEL>
<ITEM>OF Senators in General, their Original and Nece&s;sity. <HI>pag. 1</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 2.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Of the diver&s;ity of Man's nature in general, and of the Parentage and Education of a Senator in particular. <HI>p. 13</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 3.</LABEL>
<ITEM>The knowledge of Arts and Sciences required in Senators; and particularly, that of Philo&s;o|phy. <HI>p. 32</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 4.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Of Eloquence, Clemency, Piety, and other Ver|tues nece&s;&s;ary to the accompli&s;hment of a Senator. <HI>p. 47</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 5.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Of Ju&s;tice and her concomitants, which our Senator ought to be adorned with. <HI>p. 78</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 6.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Of Fortitude and her Concomitants, as Mag|nanimity, Con&s;tancy, Patience, Confi|dence, <HI>&amp;c. p. 113</HI></ITEM>
<PB REF="5">
<LABEL>Chap. 7.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Of Travel; the Age, Gravity, and Election of our Senator. <HI>pag. 136</HI></ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD>The Second BOOK.</HEAD>
<LABEL>Chap. 1.</LABEL>
<ITEM>OF Kings and their Prerogative. <HI>pag. 157</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 2.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Of the divi&s;ion of Commonweals and King|doms. <HI>pag. 170</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 3.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Wherein is contained the various Forms of the mo&s;t renowned and famous Commonweals and Kingdoms in the World. <HI>pag. 186</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 4.</LABEL>
<ITEM>The New-fangled Model of Modern Policy, be|ing of three &s;orts, a Protectordom, a Commit|teedom, and a Rumpdom; and fir&s;t of the Protectordom. <HI>pag. 198</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 5.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Of a Committeedom. <HI>pag. 206</HI></ITEM>
<LABEL>Chap. 6.</LABEL>
<ITEM>Of a Rumpdom. <HI>pag. 211</HI></ITEM>
</LIST>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="discourse">
<PB N="1" REF="5">
<HEAD>THE Sage Senator.</HEAD>
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="book">
<HEAD>BOOK I.</HEAD>
<DIV3 N="1" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. I.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Of Senators in General, their Original and Nece&s;sity.</HEAD>
<P>_HE that &s;weateth in the pur&s;uit of tho&s;e &s;tudies that conduce to private recreation, as well as publike emolument, per&s;o|nates and repre&s;ents a grave wi&s;e man; and merits the general applau&s;e of all per&s;ons: For,
<Q><PB N="2" REF="6">
Omne tulit punctum, qui mi&s;cuit util<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter"> dulci.</Q>
And (if I may be a competent Judge) there is no Science accompanied with more delight to the Student, or benefit to the Commonwealth into which he is incor|porated, than that of Government: where|fore being &s;ufficiently convinced, that all the tran&s;actions of a well-regulated State are managed by &s;olid rea&s;on, mature deli|beration, and &s;ound judgement, not by wa|vering opinion, uncertain fate, or fanta|&s;tique fortune; I have made the original of Senators, their duty, dignity, internal and external qualifications, the Theme on which I intend to expatiate in general in this fir&s;t Book: But more particularly in this Chapter, of the original cau&s;e of their in&s;titution or creation. For the perfor|mance of that task which I have voluntari|ly impo&s;ed upon my &s;elf, I have dived into the depth of civil knowledge, and pried in|to the <HI>Arcana</HI> of Philo&s;ophy; collecting what&s;oever hath been related, penned, or experimentally known heretofore, either by Academick Learning, Parliaments in Commonweals, Policy in Government, or Hi&s;tory.</P>
<P><PB N="3" REF="6">
But to begin: Man, the perfection of the Creation, was not made a Citizen or In|habitant of this World only, but Lord Pa|ramount over all Creatures that have a be|ing within the compa&s;s of the terre&s;trial Globe: This authority and dignity was conferred upon him by the &s;upreme Go|vernour of Heaven and earth, who hath de&s;cended &s;o far below his &s;acred Self, as to make him his Co-partner in Government, adorning him with divine under&s;tanding; to the intent, that the Scepter of this ter|rene Empire may be &s;wayed by his Rea|&s;on and Coun&s;el. The cau&s;e of this co|union of Government between God and Man, proceeds from Rea&s;on; which being perfect, makes Man capable of imitating Almightine&s;s; &s;o that it appears, there is a kind of near alliance or con&s;anguinity be|tween the Creator and the Creature, who &s;ometimes is made God's Vicegerent upon earth: yet without divine a&s;&s;i&s;tance, no rea|&s;on or coun&s;el can be termed good, or per|fect: For, the &s;eed of this glimmering re|&s;emblance of a Deity planted in Man, if it light on fertile ground, and that happen to meet with good culture, produceth a crop according to the expectation of the Coe|le&s;tial Planter; otherwi&s;e, it is like corn
<PB N="4" REF="7">
ca&s;t into a barren &s;oyl; who&s;e product is nothing but brambles, thorns, or thi&s;tles. Thus then Man being reduced to a &s;en&s;e or feeling of tho&s;e &s;parks of divinity that lie latent in him, &s;hould be wrought to a per|&s;wa&s;ion, that he hath the Character or <HI>Idaea</HI> of a Deity in his mind; the impre&s;&s;i|on of the Creator's holy Image &s;tamped on his &s;oul; and ought thereupon to be &s;o indu&s;trious in the employment of his ta|lent, and the management of his affairs, that his actions may &s;peak him worthy, in &s;ome &s;en&s;e, of &s;o heavenly a favour be&s;tow|ed on him. Yet, though he be made God's a&s;&s;ociate (as it were) he mu&s;t return him the glory, to whom it properly and primarily belongs; and acknowledge all authority to flow from him, as from the Fountain: For, as brute Animals are not governed by Animals, but by an Herd&s;|man; no more can Man rule or govern Man, without the a&s;&s;i&s;tance and protection of Providence divine. And &s;hould any man be &s;o &s;ordidly ignorant, or athei&s;tical|ly prophane, as to undertake the Govern|ment of any Country or Nation, without divine knowledge or a&s;&s;i&s;tance; it mu&s;t ne|ce&s;&s;arily follow, that that State, Common|wealth, or Kingdom, and every Member
<PB N="5" REF="7">
thereof, be implunged into an Ocean of mi&s;ery and infelicity: For, it is in vain to build upon the imagined welfare of a State, or Kingdom, if God be not the Pro|tector and Patron thereof. It is then as con&s;picuous as the Meridian Sun, that all vertue, wi&s;dom and goodne&s;s owes its ori|ginal to God; which did in&s;tigate the pur|blind, or rather pure-blind Heathen, that had only the ru&s;h-candle of Nature, to con&s;ecrate publike Temples to Vertue, Faith, Concord, Wi&s;dom, Peace, <HI>&amp;c.</HI> And if <HI>Ovid</HI> the Ethnick dur&s;t be &s;o bold, well may we then <HI>&agrave; fortiori</HI> affirm, and main|tain,
<Q><L>E&s;t Deus in nobis, agitante cale&s;cimus illo;</L>
<L>Spiritus hic &s;acrae lumina mentis habet.</L></Q></P>
<P>It is therefore our duty to endeavour the de&s;erving a more noble title than that of meer Man, and &s;trenuou&s;ly to labour in the pur&s;uit of Under&s;tanding, that flies a higher pitch, than either humanity or morality dare a&s;pire unto; that &s;o, if po&s;&s;ible, we may &s;urpa&s;s all our Ance&s;tors, and live ac|cording to the dictates of that which hath the greate&s;t &s;upremacy in us, <HI>viz.</HI> Rea&s;on; by vertue whereof, we are made &s;en&s;ible
<PB N="6" REF="8">
of a Deity, know how to exerci&s;e Vertu<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1+ letters">, embrace that which is good, and avoid what is evill: this is that which endows a man with the qualifications of Wi&s;dom, Valour, and Ju&s;tice; by this we are able to di&s;cern, that the terre&s;trial Globe is wheel'd about by divine wi&s;dom; it is this that makes a man Noble, a <HI>Hero:</HI> which was the rea&s;on that the Lacedaemonians impo&s;ed the title of Gods upon tho&s;e per|&s;ons, that were judged to move in the high|e&s;t &s;phear of under&s;tanding; <HI>homines de me|liore luto;</HI> men of a more noble allay, than dull mud-wall'd man can boa&s;t of: Nay, <HI>Homer</HI> deifies <HI>Hector</HI> in this en&s;uing Di|&s;tich:
<Q><L>Non hominis certe mortalis filius ille</L>
<L>E&s;&s;e videtur, &s;ed divino &s;emine natus.</L></Q>
So that we may maintain (without being Paradoxical) that that man, who is gui|ded by &s;olid rea&s;on in all his words and actions, is <HI>qua&s;i &s;emi-deus inter mortales;</HI> a Demi-god among men.</P>
<P>Now, of &s;uch repute is a Sage Senator, or grave Cou&s;ellor; who hath rea&s;on for his Cyno&s;ure, and wi&s;dom his coadjutre&s;s in all undertakings. Such per&s;ons are &s;o
<PB N="7" REF="8">
nece&s;&s;ary in a Commonwealth, that they can by no means be omitted or left out: For, the King being but a &s;ingle per&s;on, cannot have an eye unto all the tran&s;acti|ons of his Kingdom; be&s;ides, &s;omtimes it happens, that he is &s;educed from the con|duct of rea&s;on, by yeilding to his affecti|ons, or &s;lackning the reins of his appetite and licentiou&s;ne&s;s; and the rude multi|tude, being ignorant, is altogether uncapa|ble of that under&s;tanding, or knowledge. Yet the Senate, elected according to the Law of the Land, and compacted or made up of vertuous, &s;ober, grave, di&s;creet per|&s;ons, do from their place, as from a <HI>Pharos,</HI> or Watch-tower, look about them, and provide all things requi&s;ite for the di&s;creet and well regulating of the State wherein they live; preventing all mutinies, &s;editi|ons and di&s;&s;entions that the rebellious rab|ble dur&s;t any waies attempt: Of &s;uch great u&s;e and nece&s;&s;ity are they, and that not on|ly to the King, but the people al&s;o; like unto the vital part of mans &s;oul, which re|&s;iding in the heart, enliveneth and quic|kens that which partakes of Rea&s;on, and is &s;ituated in the head: and a Monarch that is guided by the advice and coun&s;el of a grave Senate, rules his Kingdom prudent|ly,
<PB N="8" REF="9">
and governs it di&s;creetly. For, as rea&s;on in all her proceedings, makes u&s;e of the &s;er|vice of the &s;en&s;es; yet &s;he alone deter|mines, and de&s;erves the greate&s;t honour and e&s;teem: &s;o a Prince, though he admit of Coun&s;el, is to be judged the wi&s;e&s;t; and is uncontroulable in all his actions: for it is a Maxim among us, that <HI>The King can do no wrong.</HI> And as the hand di&s;tingui&s;hed into fingers is thereby &s;trengthned, and made the more apt to lay hold on any thing; &s;o he that governeth with the aid and a&s;&s;i&s;tance of Coun&s;el, &s;hall manage all affairs with the greater con&s;ideration and prudence. Their original did proceed from the benefit that it was imagined would ac|crue to the Commonwealth, whereof they were members, by their coun&s;el: And al|though they, that fir&s;t a&s;&s;embled men into Cities, who before like Savages, ranged o|ver the woods, and inhabited the de&s;arts di&s;per&s;edly, without either Law or Order, fir&s;t gained the Title of Kings; yet that cour&s;e alone could not make them under|&s;tand the dutiful Allegiance they owed un|to their Soveraign: wherefore perceiving, that when they were civilized, and reduced from their brutality, the authority of a &s;ingle Per&s;on was not of &s;ufficiency to curb
<PB N="9" REF="9">
and check them in the full career of their exorbitancies, they judged it convenient to have a&s;&s;i&s;tance from &s;erious and grave Coun&s;ellors: which we find performed by <HI>Romulus</HI> the <HI>Proto-ba&s;ileus,</HI> or fir&s;t King of the Romans; who &s;uppo&s;ing the Government of a &s;ingle Per&s;on without a Senate to be perilous and un&s;afe, made a Convocation of 100 Senators, who out of re&s;pect to their gray heads, and grave under&s;tandings, ob|tained the name of <HI>Patres. Theopompus</HI> al&s;o, King of <HI>Sparta,</HI> trod the &s;ame path; For, he con&s;tituted the <HI>Ephori,</HI> and inve&s;ted them with eminent authority: whereat his wife being offended, was &s;o pragmatical as to tell him, That he had derogated from his dignity, and clipt the wing of his en&s;uing Po&s;terity, by dimini&s;hing their authority and &s;upremacy: But he replied, like him|&s;elf, That the Coun&s;el and gravity of a Se|nate would fortifie his Kingdom, and be in|&s;tead of a Bulwark again&s;t the impious machinations and plots of rebellious Sub|jects. Whereby it is apparent, that Mo|narchs fir&s;t embraced Coun&s;ellors out of nece&s;&s;ity: and all rational men are of opi|nion, that tho&s;e State-tran&s;actions are mo&s;t firm and &s;olid, that are dige&s;ted by the wi&s;|dome of a Parliament, ere they come to a
<PB N="10" REF="10">
publike birth. Now, I call that a Parlia|ment, or Senate, which by Royal Autho|rity, and the general con&s;ent of the whole Nation, is freely elected, and con&s;tituted, to advi&s;e and govern the State; and con&s;e|quently, a Senator, or Parliament-man, is one lawfully cho&s;en into the number of tho&s;e that are authorized to &s;it at the helm, and &s;teer the Ship of State. And it hath ever been ob&s;erved, that they were alwaies the mo&s;t grave, di&s;creet, and noble &s;ort of Subjects; becau&s;e there is no Society of Men, or Nation, how barbarous and bru|ti&s;h &s;oever, but will voluntarily and cordi|ally con&s;ent, that the Government &s;hould be impo&s;ed upon, and re&s;t in tho&s;e per&s;ons that are vertuous; and think it ju&s;t and rea&s;onable to obey them. Nor are there any &s;o fit to govern, as the ancient, experienced, which are u&s;ually cho&s;en; becau&s;e others, either through want of maturity or experi|ence, are u&s;ually withdrawn by their juve|nile phancies, and recreations, from &s;uch &s;e|rious places of authority: but a grave Coun&s;ellor is not di&s;turbed or di&s;compo|&s;ed with extravagant affections, tran&s;por|ted by appetite, or inveigled by youth; but by Rea&s;on directed, by Coun&s;el fortified, and by Age made perfect. And further,
<PB N="11" REF="10">
Philo&s;ophers maintain, that in all things there are three degrees; Great, Small, and Indifferent: And that is judged the mo&s;t perfect, that participates of either, and &s;tands in an <HI>Aequilibrium</HI> between two: Now, the Senator &s;tanding as a mean or moderator between the King and People, the Monarch and his Subjects; may be the more intimately acquainted with the per|fection of all things; and &s;tudy what is the Office of a King, and the duty and Al|legiance of a Subject; with the Rights, Properties, Liberties, and Laws appertain|ing to both; and &s;o advi&s;e them according|ly; that the King may not turn tyrannical for want of Coun&s;el, nor the people tran|&s;cend the bounds of a moderate becoming liberty: Therefore he mu&s;t of nece&s;&s;ity be a man of excellent endowments, a clear in|tellect, and a piercing under&s;tanding, to dive into the intricacies of Government. <HI>Scipio</HI> &s;aith, That as the end of Mariners, and their laborious endeavours, tends to a &s;afe arrival into the intended Haven; the Phy&s;icians skill and art is employed for the recovering and pre&s;erving health in his di|&s;tempered Patients; and the Captains va|lour levels at victory: So the happine&s;s of Subjects, their glory, life, and liberty
<PB N="12" REF="11">
&s;hould be the <HI>&s;umma totalis,</HI> or chiefe&s;t end that our Coun&s;ellor &s;hould aime at; all which he mu&s;t labour to pre&s;erve, main|tain and augment, by his indu&s;try and en|deavour, to the utmo&s;t extent of his ability; and leave no &s;tone unturned for the benefit of the Republick, of which he is a Member. Nor is it my de&s;ign here in this Treati&s;e to broach any new-fangled opinion, like tho&s;e that are hatcht in the brains of our Phana|tick Regicides; or to phancie a <HI>Chimaera,</HI> or make my brain the womb or <HI>Idaea</HI> of an Utopian Coun&s;ellor, that can only be ima|gined, and not found <HI>in e&s;&s;e</HI> (as <HI>Plato</HI> did in his Commonwealth, and <HI>Cicero</HI> in his Ora|tor) but my di&s;cour&s;e &s;hall tend to, and end in a relation and de&s;cription of &s;uch Per|&s;ons as have liv'd heretofore, and <HI>citra omnis controver&s;iae aleam,</HI> may be hereafter. And as divine <HI>Plato</HI> compo&s;ed, and reduced all tho&s;e things into order, that might conduce to the felicity of his City, or Republick; the &s;ame cour&s;e will we take in the Cha|racter of our Coun&s;ellor: wherefore per|&s;wade your &s;elf to be arrived at, or come to &s;ome famous <HI>Emporium,</HI> or <HI>Piazza;</HI> where|unto all per&s;ons, of all Nations, Countries and Cities repair; and we will di&s;robe every &s;ingle per&s;on of &s;ome Vertue, Law,
<PB N="13" REF="11">
Cu&s;tome, or Qualification, that &s;hall &s;eem mo&s;t advantagious and beneficial to our enterprize; and therewith make up our Sage Senator, Grave Coun&s;ellor, or Per|fect Politician: that they, who for the fu|ture are inve&s;ted with &s;uch eminent digni|ty and authority, may imitate our Senator, and endeavour to be adorned with the&s;e en&s;uing qualifications.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="2" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. II.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Of the diver&s;ity of Man's nature in general, and of the Parentage and Education of a Senator in particular.</HEAD>
<P>THere is nothing more clear, than that the Supreme Power, among many other gifts, hath conferr'd that of Rea&s;on upon Man, to the end that by vertue there|of, he may pry into the nature of Coele&s;ti|al, as well as Terre&s;trial bodies; and there|by honour, reverence, and adore the Crea|tor.</P>
<P>Now, he that is &s;en&s;ible of the gifts of God, and the benefits of Nature; and doth, both by contemplation and action, employ this &s;upernatural gift, &s;lowly Apes the Deity,
<PB N="14" REF="12">
and thereby re&s;embles him, as much as comes within the compa&s;s of mortality. But, they that contrary to Nature, and the end of their Creation, indulge their geni|us, delighting them&s;elves in &s;en&s;uality, neglecting, or totally de&s;erting Rea&s;on; <HI>Facie tantum homines &s;unt, non animo:</HI> carry only the outward a&s;pect or complexion of a Man; becau&s;e they are de&s;titute of his more noble endowments.</P>
<P>Hence ari&s;eth the variety of mens na|tures and di&s;po&s;itions, or rather conditi|ons: for, &s;ome are born Free, Noble, Wi&s;e, and with an aptitude to govern; others, Va&s;&s;als, Ru&s;ticks, Ideots, prede&s;tinated to &s;ervitude and bondage: All Societies of men, being willing and ready to &s;ubmit to the Government of the more grave and wi&s;e; promoting, and accumulating ho|nours on them, and Offices, with reverence and re&s;pect &s;uitable to their de&s;erving gra|vity and under&s;tanding.</P>
<P><HI>Plato</HI> is of opinion, that God in mans fir&s;t Creation, did by his omni&s;cience &s;o or|der it, that in the generation of tho&s;e that are de&s;tin'd and adapted to govern, he hath di&s;till'd &s;ome drams of gold in their compo&s;ition; and in them that are to a&s;&s;i&s;t Kings and Superiours by their deliberate
<PB N="15" REF="12">
coun&s;el, and mature advice, &s;ilver; but the Nature of Pea&s;ants and Mechanicks is tempered with Bra&s;s and Iron. Which &s;i|militude the Philo&s;opher extends to the manners, nature, and capacitie of man.</P>
<P>For, although every man naturally de&s;i|reth, that the i&s;&s;ue of his loyns may re&s;em|ble him; yet &s;ometimes, though &s;eldom, it happens contrary to his expectation: for Gold &s;ometimes produceth Silver, a more inferiour metal. Therefore it is requi&s;ite, that a Prince &s;hould be capable of under|&s;tanding the natural di&s;po&s;ition and incli|nation of his Royal Off-&s;pring, that their Iron may be converted into the Gold of a more noble di&s;po&s;ition: but, if neither good Education, Documents nor Precepts can operate upon their inclinations, &s;o as to cau&s;e a Metamorpho&s;is, or Tran&s;mutation; the Government mu&s;t be transferr'd to tho&s;e, who&s;e wi&s;dome renders them more capa|ble. For, it hath been progno&s;ticated, and the event hath been experimentally known to &s;ucceed according to the Prediction; That they that are ruled by ignorant, me|chanick Governours, come to ruine, de&s;tru|ction, and confu&s;ion. To prevent all which misfortunes, it is requi&s;ite, that our Coun|&s;ellor be a natural Subject of that place or
<PB N="16" REF="13">
Country where he governeth; no for|reigner: of the &s;ame Country, becau&s;e that birth and being do not only oblige, but induce a man to believe, that it is honoura|ble, ju&s;t, and requi&s;ite for him to &s;pend his bloud in defence thereof, when occa&s;ion is offered: <HI>Dulce &amp; decorum e&s;t pro patria mori;</HI> It is a &s;weet and comely thing to die for ones Country. And how can it be that any man, of what con&s;titution &s;oever, &s;hould not affect that place wherein his Parents, Neighbours, Friends, and Allies re&s;ide; and that Country to which he is indebted for his Life, Name, and Honour, and every thing el&s;e that is either for de|light or nece&s;&s;ity? <HI>Non nobis enim nati &s;u|mus</HI> (&s;aith the Orator) <HI>&s;ed patriae;</HI> Our Country challengeth the greate&s;t part of us. And it is mo&s;t certain, that Nature hath &s;o deeply rooted the affection to their native place in the mind of man, that ne|ver was any good Subject timorous, or un|willing to lay down his life, and hazard his fortunes in her defence, if nece&s;&s;ity re|quired. Nay, it hath been &s;o prevalent, that the mo&s;t impious and unnatural per&s;ons, that endeavoured the &s;ubver&s;ion of the place of their nativity, the very &s;ight of their native &s;oyl hath prevented their cruel
<PB N="17" REF="13">
enterprize. <HI>Veturia</HI> did di&s;&s;wade her Son <HI>Martius</HI> befieging <HI>Rome,</HI> only by reducing to his memory the love and re&s;pect he ought to bear to his natural Country; branding him with the name of impious and audacious, for being &s;o highly ambi|tious, as to di&s;turb the quiet of that City wherein he was begot and educated; alto|gether unmindful of his Wife, Children, and friends that remained there. So no|table was the piety of <HI>Veturia</HI> to her Coun|try, and no le&s;s was that of her Son in for|giving it; which had been &s;omewhat in|grateful to him at that time, through the cruelty of the Tribunes per&s;ecuting the Nobility. <HI>Sertorius</HI> al&s;o entreated <HI>Pom|peius</HI> and <HI>Metellus</HI> to endeavour the pro|curement of his revocation; alledging, that he took it for a greater piece of honour to have the name of an ob&s;cure Roman Citi|zen, than that of Emperour in any other place of the habitable World. Well then might <HI>Na&s;o</HI> &s;ing,
<Q><L>Ne&s;cio qua natale &s;olum dulcedine cunctas</L>
<L>Dacit, &amp; immemores non &s;init e&s;&s;e &s;ui.</L></Q>
The Obligation that devoteth and bindeth us to our Country, is great, upon this ac|count;
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becau&s;e our goods, per&s;ons and for|tunes are therein contained. <HI>Pythagoras</HI> (as it is reported by divine <HI>Plato)</HI> judged it a crime of as deep a dye, to be guilty of ingratitude to the place of ones nativity, as to ones own Mother, to whom we are indebted for being: Nor can there be an offence &s;o hainous, but the affection to our native Country &s;hould allay and mitigate. Our Coun&s;ellor mu&s;t be of natural birth: no Forreiner; becau&s;e their coun&s;el or ad|vice is thought and accounted &s;u&s;picious and dangerous; which was the rea&s;on that mov'd the <HI>Athenians</HI> not only to exclude &s;trangers from their Council, but to drive them out of their Cities, le&s;t they &s;hould a&s;pire at the dignity of Magi&s;tracy, and in&s;tigate or work upon the minds of Citi|zens, &s;o as to per&s;wade them to Innovati|on; and &s;o mutation of Laws, Cu&s;toms and manners might en&s;ue, and con&s;equent|ly Seditions and Rebellions. Which me|thod the Venetians have diligently ob|&s;erved; for, it is their &s;tudy and their whole indu&s;try, to prevent their &s;itting a|mong them in Council, le&s;t they intruding under a fal&s;e name or title, &s;hould arrive to dignity and eminency in the Republick. Be&s;ides, it is requi&s;ite he be of the Nobili|ty;
<PB N="19" REF="14">
begotten of hone&s;t Parents; becau&s;e hone&s;t parents produce hone&s;t children, for the mo&s;t part. He mu&s;t be of the number of noble and free Citizens, who a&s;&s;umes his title from that Nobility that owes its original to Vertue; which he may partly challenge as his own, and part|ly as his Ance&s;tors. They therefore that are nobilitated and adorned with their own peculiar vertues, as well as with tho&s;e of their Predece&s;&s;ors, merit e&s;teem, prefer|ment, honour and fame, above all others, and are to be highly reverenced; and the rea&s;on is, becau&s;e that Vertuous and good Parents, have a generous, good, vertuous and noble I&s;&s;ue: according to the Lyrick Poet,
<Q><L>Fortes fortibus creantur, &amp; bonis,</L>
<L>E&s;t in jumentis, e&s;t in equis Patrum</L>
<L>Virtus, nec imbellem feroces</L>
<L>Progenerant aquilae columbam.</L></Q>
Now (as <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> affirmeth) that per&s;on that comes of a noble race, is the &s;tem of a noble &s;tock, and hath the affluence of For|tune accompanied with Vertue, hath arri|ved to the apex or perfection, the very Quinte&s;&s;ence of true Nobility. But, be|cau&s;e
<PB N="20" REF="15">
it is a rarity to find one per&s;on ador|ned with them all; Vertue alone can by her own right and property <HI>nobilitare viros.</HI> As for revenues, large acres, &s;pecious &amp; &s;paci|ous Mannors, but no manners, and the ho|nour that we challenge from our Ance&s;tors, without vertue, they are &s;o far from being ornaments, that they prove a di&s;parage|ment and a &s;tain to the Owner. Such per|&s;ons render the name of their Predece&s;&s;ors ob&s;cure; And through the vices of their Po&s;terity, are entombed in the grave of ob|livion: Therefore it is better to a&s;cend the top of Nobility by a man's own vertue (&s;aith the fluent Orator) than to be repu|ted for the opinion conceived of his An|ce&s;tors; becau&s;e the Beginner of Nobility de&s;erves mo&s;t prai&s;e and applau&s;e. He that is the off-&s;pring of a noble Family, de|&s;erves honour and e&s;teem undoubtedly, with this provi&s;o, that he make it the Butt and End of his Endeavours and Indu&s;try, to equal, if not excel, the Vertues of his Pa|rents and Predece&s;&s;ors, and to gain unto him&s;elf more vertuous and glorious Attri|butes. And infinitely are they to be com|mended that do &s;o; for they are &s;o far from ob&s;curing the Fame and Renown of their Fore-fathers, that they add a mo&s;t re&s;plen|dent
<PB N="21" REF="15">
lu&s;tre: to it by their own vertue yet verdant and blo&s;&s;oming. The Law of the <HI>Rhodians</HI> is worthy of commendation; for they enacted, that tho&s;e children that did lead a debauched life, not imitating the ver|tues of their Parents, &s;hould be utterly di&s;|inherited, and their Lands by a Deed of gift freely di&s;po&s;ed of to the mo&s;t vertuous of the Race or Family. It is an office of piety, to leave unto Po&s;terity a demon&s;tra|tion of our gratitude and thankfulne&s;s to our Ance&s;tors, who&s;e heirs we are, not on|ly of their external &s;ub&s;tance, (the goods of fortune, I mean) but of their virtue, glory, and renown: which is the true inhe|ritance, and the be&s;t of all terrene po&s;&s;e&s;&s;i|ons. For, 'tis not a &s;tately Building hung within with coats of Arms, and badges of the honour of others, nor the va&s;t un|mea&s;urable pieces of Land belonging thereunto, but Vertue, that Nobilitates; As <HI>Juvenal</HI> &s;ings,
<Q><L>Tota licet veteres exornent undique cerae</L>
<L>Atria, Nobilitas &s;ola est, atque unica virtus.</L></Q>
For, where&s;oever Vertue is re&s;ident, it de&s;erves more ample commendation than Fortune can lay claim to, becau&s;e &s;he
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refu&s;eth none, but may be by every one em|braced; &s;he dwels in the homely Pea&s;ants Cottage, as well as in the Princes &s;tately Palace; and we find the Sun-bak'd Pea&s;ant adorn'd with ru&s;&s;et-hone&s;ty, when the gau|dy fanta&s;tick Lord oft-times is &s;o vitious, that he is a &s;tranger both to vertue and hone&s;ty. <HI>Cleanthes</HI> was a poor water-drawer; and, though his out&s;ide might &s;eem rough-hewn, and he de&s;picable and contemptible to one who&s;e &s;ight pries no farther than the external part: yet his mind was refin'd, and his intellect ennobled with &s;uch faculties as will &s;peak him Man, to an under&s;tanding per&s;on, maugre all the force and violence of Poverty or Fortune: Nor did Vertue find <HI>Plato</HI> noble, but made him &s;o. And it is mo&s;t certain, that from Bond|men Kings have de&s;cended, and the off|&s;pring of Kings hath been en&s;laved: &s;uch revolutions, long tract of time, by the a&s;&s;i|&s;tance of fickle fortune, doth produce: for, according to the Poet,
<Q><L>Si fortuna volet, fies de Rhetore Con&s;ul;</L>
<L>Si volet haec eadem, fies de Con&s;ule Rhetor.</L></Q>
<Q><L>Up and down,</L>
<L>Ki&s;s and frown.</L>
<L>Fortune is no &s;tate at all.</L></Q></P>
<P><PB N="23" REF="16">
Was not <HI>Agathocles</HI> from a Potter ad|vanced to the Throne? What <HI>Heroes</HI> were <HI>Romulus, Tullus, Ho&s;tilius, Tarquinius Pri&s;cus,</HI> and the whole Race of the Romans, more than others? Of mean parentage all, not <HI>atavis regibus editi.</HI> Hearken to <HI>Juvenal,</HI> and he will give you the &s;ame information:
<Q><L>Et tamen ut longe repetas, longoque revolvas,</L>
<L>Nomen ab infami gentum deducis A&s;ylo.</L></Q>
Who therefore may be termed noble? He that by nature is made vertuous, and quali|fied or adorned with the attribute of wi&s;|dom. Moreover, as the exerci&s;e of our qualities is various, &s;o are the degrees of Nobility. The Nobility of private per|&s;ons, that lead a contemplative life only, may be called Philo&s;ophical Nobility; but the &s;ame in tho&s;e that gain glory and re|nown by their &s;age and wi&s;e Coun&s;el in behalf of the Commonwealth, or that ma|nife&s;t them&s;elves &s;tout and valiant in ma|naging war for the defence of their Coun|try, is termed Civil Nobility. The force and efficacy of this Nobility extends to Po|&s;terity, and engraves or makes <HI>monumentum aere perennius;</HI> That is, armour of proof a|gain&s;t the iron teeth of time; <HI>Quod nec</HI>
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<HI>Jovis ira, nec ignis, Nec poterit ferru<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1+ letters">, nec edax abolere vetu&s;tas.</HI> By the&s;e en&s;igns of Fame and vertue, men are &s;timulated and &s;purred on to imitate and exceed the vertue of all their Predece&s;&s;ors. And as in every Republick there are two kinds of Time, the one of Peace, and the other of War: &s;o the Citizens are of two &s;orts; the one fitted for Peace, and the other adapted for War: The former by Arms doth enlarge the Territories and bounds of his native Country, or at lea&s;t defend them from the inva&s;ion of forraign enemies; the other by wi&s;e coun&s;el and grave advice doth rule and pre&s;erve it inviolable. Wherefore, a Commonwealth &s;hould be compo&s;ed of the&s;e two &s;orts of men: for, as in the ma|nagement and proceedings of State-affairs, action followeth con&s;ultation, and is infe|rior to it; &s;o tho&s;e per&s;ons, by who&s;e ma|ture coun&s;el and deliberate advice the Commonwealth was quietly, peaceably and di&s;creetly governed, were of greater e&s;teem than tho&s;e that enlarged the Con|fines thereof by War and Arms. <HI>Homer,</HI> the Prince of Graecian Poets, produceth <HI>Agamemnon,</HI> &s;aying, He could &s;ooner &s;ur|prize and &s;ubjugate the City of <HI>Troy</HI> by the advice of ten <HI>Ne&s;tors</HI> or <HI>Uly&s;&s;es,</HI> than by the
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valour of twice as many <HI>Ajaces</HI> or <HI>Achilles. Pyrrhus</HI> likewi&s;e was heard to u&s;e this ex|pre&s;&s;ion frequently, That <HI>Cineas</HI> by his e|loquence had won more Cities, than he with all his men of War had ever conque|red. But, he that excelleth in wi&s;dom and martial knowledge, de&s;erves the Crown and honour above all: and though, as we &s;aid before, it is Vertue that makes a man Noble, without the additional riches of Fortune; yet it is requi&s;ite our Coun&s;ellor &s;hould be wealthy; becau&s;e thereby he may be able to &s;upply his Country, if compelled to wage war; for money is the &s;inews and &s;trength of war. But good edu|cation, &s;aith <HI>Plato,</HI> is the ba&s;is and founda|tion of &s;olid wi&s;dom and prudence. It is therefore requi&s;ite, that from their tender years they be in&s;tructed in all things that conduce to the accompli&s;hment of man, <HI>&egrave; cunabulis,</HI> as we &s;ay, even from the cradle and &s;wathing clouts, for then are they mo&s;t apt to imbibe and &s;uck in the mo&s;t whole|&s;ome Precepts that &s;hall be exhibited unto them: for then <HI>anima e&s;t qua&s;i tabula ra&s;a,</HI> like a blank or piece of clean white paper, capable of any vertuous or noble impre&s;&s;i|on. And as it behoveth a Republick to be &s;tored with knowing Subjects, &s;o ought
<PB N="26" REF="18">
they to be diligent in their education, and provide them good Tutors, that may in|&s;truct them, and chalk them out the way of Vertue. For, as a good husbandman dili|gently pruneth his plants, and loppeth off the &s;uperfluous branches, when the &s;ea&s;on requires it, that they may grow the fa&s;ter; &s;o the Commonwealth, that may ju&s;tly be termed the Parent and hou&s;ewi&s;e of Sub|jects, ought to be extraordinary diligent to provide for the careful and vertuous educa|tion of youth, by lopping off the &s;uperflu|ous branches of vice, and engrafting them on the &s;tock of Vertue. The <HI>Lacedaemoni|ans</HI> u&s;ed to elect Magi&s;trates out of the number of their grave, wi&s;e and &s;ober Ci|tizens, and call them publike Tutors, which might &s;erve to educate and train up their younglings; and were alwaies reverenced by them, being judged vertuous men in a|ction, and well skill'd in military di&s;ci|pline. And the ancient Romans were as &s;trict and careful in this point of educati|on, as the Lacedaemonians. <HI>Cato</HI> was &s;o diligent in the nurture and education of his Son, that he di&s;dained not to receive him into his tuition, and take him into his pupillage or guardian&s;hip as &s;oon as ever ripene&s;s of age had fitted him for in&s;tructi|on.
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And although at that very time he kept <HI>Chilo</HI> the Grammarian, and one excel|lent in that art, in his hou&s;e, to in&s;truct his Children, yet he had not permi&s;&s;ion to cor|rect them, but that was left to the di&s;creti|tion of the Father. Be&s;ides, he di&s;dained to be engaged to a School-ma&s;ter for the in&s;truction of his Children altogether; wherefore he taught them the Laws, man|ners and Cu&s;tomes of his own as well as other Nations; as al&s;o, how to dart, han|dle his Arms, &s;wim, (which was ancient|ly much in e&s;teem; for, <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> when he would &s;et forth an ab&s;olute <HI>Dulman</HI> or <HI>Ig|naro,</HI> &s;aith, <GAP DESC="foreign">, he could neither read nor &s;wim,) and to endure both heat and cold, that he might be har|dened and &s;ea&s;oned for any enterprize. Be&s;ides, he penn'd a Hi&s;tory with his own hands, and committed it to the peru&s;al of his Son, that he might therein &s;ee and un|der&s;tand the heroick deeds and actions of his Ance&s;tors, and be in&s;tructed in the art of Government. He never &s;pake any un|clean or pa&s;&s;ionate word before his Son, but was as circum&s;pect in his language, as if the Ve&s;tal Virgins or Prie&s;ts were in pre|&s;ence; ob&s;erving that ancient rule,
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<Q><L>Nil dicta foedum, factuve haec <GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="2+ letters">ina tangat</L>
<L>Intra quae puer e&s;t&mdash;&mdash;</L></Q>
And this was the oeconomique or dome|&s;tique di&s;cipline of <HI>Cato,</HI> and of the major part of the Romans, e&s;pecially of the bet|ter &s;ort, in the education of their Chil|dren. In like manner the Philo&s;ophers of <HI>Greece</HI> compo&s;ed plaies for the in&s;truction of youth; which is pre&s;erved to this very day among us, (though that cu&s;tome for &s;ome years was almo&s;t ob&s;olete and out of reque&s;t.) Nor were they only capable of indoctrinating, or laying down the tenets that are nece&s;&s;ary to a happy and good life, but they were of ability to in&s;truct in the Laws and manner of Government: Yea, this our pre&s;ent Age hath &s;ome Seminaries of Learning and Vertue (according to the Graecian cu&s;tome) the Univer&s;ities of <HI>Cam|bridge</HI> and <HI>Oxford,</HI> (though lately ready to expire, and almo&s;t demoli&s;hed by the Pha|naticks, who hated all book-learning (as they term it) becau&s;e their crimes were &s;o hainous, that they went beyond the mercy of the book.) Hither Youth might re&s;ort, as unto a Harve&s;t of Science and Know|ledge, and might reap a crop of Vertue and
<PB N="29" REF="19">
good Di&s;cipline. But it were to be wi&s;h'd, that the Doctors and Tutors in our Uni|ver&s;ities would in&s;truct their Pupils in the art of living, and not di&s;puting well altoge|ther, (for, &s;o might they de&s;erve prefer|ment from the Commonwealth, and com|mendation from all &s;olid per&s;ons,) and not take more delight in hearing a Praeva|ricator or Je&s;ter, than a &s;olid Philo&s;opher. In ancient times, Philo&s;ophers enjoyned their Pupils &s;ilence, and taught it al&s;o; but our modern wits teach them only to talk or di&s;cour&s;e; which is the rea&s;on the Nati|on is filled with &s;o many worded Orators, and prating Philo&s;ophers. They endea|vor not, <HI>nunc di<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">rum,&punc;</HI> to refine the under|&s;tanding, but to cloath the tongue with frothy language; and are applauded for altercation and &s;trength of wit in their publike arguments, but not for mode&s;ty or &s;olid wi&s;dom: yet there is hope of a refor|mation in the&s;e Schools of Learning, when tho&s;e loyal Spirits, that for their Alle|giance to their Soveraign were di&s;mi&s;|&s;ed, are re-in&s;tated. The ancient Graecian Academies were the Nur&s;eries of Com|monweals; and out of them (as from the Trojan Hor&s;e) i&s;&s;ued mo&s;t excellent Mo|narchs, &s;tout Captains, and wife Gover|nors.
<PB N="30" REF="20">
<HI>Alexander</HI> and <HI>Scipio,</HI> with who&s;e Fame the whole World hath ecchoed, had their primitive education in Schools of Li|terature; and many others, which I omit. Thus it is apparent, that men ought to be trained up in Schools, that &s;o they may be in&s;tructed in the Principles of Govern|ment: wherefore it ought to be the care of every State, Republick and Kingdom, that their Seminaries of Learning be as well furni&s;hed and &s;tored with Vertues, as the Citizens &s;hops are with wares and com|modities. Now then, we &s;ee that good e|ducation is requi&s;ite, and accompli&s;heth our Senator. Be&s;ides, he mu&s;t have an in|clination to Vertue; for if not, his evill di&s;po&s;ition will hardly be bettered by Phi|lo&s;ophy: for, the nature of man prompts him to evill; and he finding him&s;elf &s;trengthned with the Science of Philo&s;o|phy, is more expert, and gains more skill to palliate and plead for his bad actions: for the be&s;t of Sciences po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ed by a man of an evil di&s;po&s;tion, is depraved, and, contra|ry to its own nature, is a help to, and pro|moter of evill coun&s;el. So that it may be maintained, that good in&s;truction be&s;tow|ed upon an evill nature, is oftentimes ill employed, and ineffectual. Though it is
<PB N="31" REF="20">
mo&s;t certain, that Education prevails much with tender years, changing it from vice, and molding it according to the form of Vertue. <HI>Diogenes</HI> being demanded, How a man might lead a peaceable and quiet life; Replied, fir&s;t, He mu&s;t fear the Deity, who is the Author of all felicity. Secondly, He mu&s;t be&s;tow good education on his Chil|dren, the want whereof makes them ene|mies, and di&s;re&s;pectful to their aged Pa|rents. Thirdly, He mu&s;t avoid ingrati|tude to his friends, which of all crimes is the mo&s;t odious and comprehen&s;ive, con|taining within it &s;elf a whole bundle of offences. <HI>Ingratum dixeris, &amp; omnia dixeris.</HI> Mention but Ingratitude, and you have epi|tomized all &s;ins in a word. Moreover, it is nece&s;&s;ary that Children be in&s;tructed in the rudiments of Grammar, Rhetorick and Logick, whereby they may under&s;tand the property of &s;peech, and the excellency thereof, as al&s;o defend it by argumentation. Thus may he under&s;tand the Art of Elo|quence, which is perfected by u&s;e, di&s;cour&s;e, and &s;urveying the works of Poets and O|rators; and being thus in&s;tructed, he will &s;hake off tho&s;e petty incon&s;iderable things that are under&s;tood by every mean capaci|ty, and take into con&s;ideration matters of
<PB N="32" REF="21">
greater weight and importance. And the mind, beginning to know her &s;elf, &s;eeks af|ter the true food and nouri&s;hment that will &s;atisfie and content her, which is Philo&s;o|phy; of which in this en&s;uing Chapter.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="3" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. III.</HEAD>
<HEAD>The knowledge of Arts and Sciences required in Senators; and particularly, that of Philo&s;o|phy.</HEAD>
<P>PHilo&s;ophy is the food and medicine of the mind, affording it Vertue as Aliment, and healing all &s;orts of maladies and di&s;turbances that are incident thereun|to, making a perfect path-way to happi|ne&s;s. The rea&s;on is, becau&s;e that then the mind &s;haketh on the terrene incumbranees that u&s;ually clog the body, and meditates upon things Divine and Coele&s;tial. This knowledge of Philo&s;ophy is of two &s;orts; the one con&s;i&s;ts in the &s;ubtilty of Nature, and is &s;ubject to the univer&s;al contemplati|on of all men: The other demon&s;trateth and laies down the true in&s;titution of men and manners, &s;hewing how Republicks and Kingdoms ought to be regulated, and
<PB N="33" REF="21">
private Families ordered. To the fir&s;t the&s;e parts of Philo&s;ophy belong: Phy&s;icks or natural Philo&s;ophy, Metaphy&s;icks or Divinity, and the Mathematicks; and to the other, Ethicks, Politicks and Oecono|micks. Nor is the <HI>finis</HI> or end of the&s;e two &s;orts of Philo&s;ophy altogether di&s;crepant, &s;ince they both tend to the perfection of man: yet in this they differ, that the one endeavours it by Contemplation, and the other by Action; the one by Theory, and the other by Practice; whereof a dou|ble felicity doth ari&s;e, the one private, and the other publike. Now, tho&s;e that place felicity in the exerci&s;e of vertue for the good of the Republick, the more publike it be, the more prai&s;e-worthy it is judged; becau&s;e a multitude receives benefit there|by, and not one &s;ingle per&s;on. Yet we are nece&s;&s;itated and compelled to confe&s;s, that contemplation on felicity hath the pre|eminency, becau&s;e it in&s;tructs in the prin|cipal efficient cau&s;es of all things and tran&s;|actions. God al&s;o without action, by his perpetual and divine contemplation and pre&s;cience, fore&s;eeing all things, doth by his own example move Philo&s;ophers to prefer divine contemplation before all hu|mane action and felicity. That Philo&s;ophy
<PB N="34" REF="22">
is nece&s;&s;ary in a Senator, for the more &s;e|cure management of State-affairs, will ap|pear by what follows. Philo&s;ophy is the eternal, immortal gift of the Creator, in|&s;tructing us in the knowledge of all things both divine and humane; as al&s;o the na|ture of vertue and vice: &s;o that he that (as in a gla&s;s) peeps therein, and then con&s;i|ders and meditates upon it, &s;hall &s;ee the forms, <HI>Idaea's</HI> and Images of all things; and perceive a re&s;emblance or repre&s;entation both of body and mind. It was not there|fore without cau&s;e &s;tyled by fluent <HI>Cicero,</HI> Univer&s;al knowledge, the conduct of life, the &s;earcher of vertue, the expeller of vice, and the <HI>Panacea,</HI> or health of the Soul. For indeed, there is nothing in the world to be thought or acted, either in Court or Coun|cil, of great or &s;mall importance, but pro|ceeds from Philo&s;ophy, as the Nur&s;e of all con&s;ultations, actions, and re&s;olutions: which if you make your rule to walk by, all your words and actions will be judged &s;ober, wi&s;e, di&s;creet, and in all re&s;pects perfect, as far as man can be. For, in what Country &s;oever the People have a Philo&s;o|pher to their Prince, or one that is coun&s;el|led by Philo&s;ophers; war, di&s;cord, or rebel|lion is &s;eldome found. But, methinks I
<PB N="35" REF="22">
hear &s;ome Phanatick lay this Objection in my way, as a &s;tumbling-block to my pro|ceedings. Do&s;t thou imagine, Sir Philo|&s;opher (that's as good as Mr Doctor, an u&s;ual phra&s;e among them) that the feli|city of Kingdoms and Republicks, or the wi&s;dom of Kings and Governours proceeds from thy lazy idle di&s;cipline? (Ra&s;h, illi|terate fellows, they never con&s;ider that the &s;weat of the brains is greater than the &s;weat of the brow) whenas that Art is but a meer juggling, prating &s;cience; not that knowledge whereby men arrive to their intended felicity. How can&s;t thou be &s;o impudent (the Omer of re&s;pect they af|ford to every one is Thou and Thee; and if it lay in their power, they would take away two as nece&s;&s;ary Pronouns, Thine and Mine) as to dare to infect the Kingdom (Commonwealth, I &s;hould have &s;aid; for the name of King is enough to fright them into convul&s;ion-fits) with that that will prove the ruine and de&s;truction of it? For, as thou ha&s;t filled the Schools with debate and contention, &s;o wilt thou rend the &s;tate with divi&s;ions; and though it may be ar|gued out in the Univer&s;ity without blows, yet can&s;t thou think, that it will be deter|mined in a Commonwealth without the
<PB N="36" REF="23">
effu&s;ion of bloud? How &s;hall the happi|ne&s;s of a Republick be maintained and pre|&s;erved by Philo&s;ophers, who&s;e opinions carry &s;o much variety, dubiou&s;ne&s;s, and diametrical oppo&s;ition? Which of all the Philo&s;ophical Sects &s;hall our Common|wealth be guided by; the Platoni&s;t, Peri|patetick, Stoick, Cynick, or Epicure? Now, they that differ about the <HI>&s;ummum bonum,</HI> do they not di&s;&s;ent in the &s;ub&s;tance of Philo&s;ophy? Therefore I am clearly of opinion, That they who relie &s;olely on Phi|lo&s;ophy, are rather to be excluded than ad|mitted to govern in any State or Repub|lick what&s;oever. Is it con&s;entaneous to rea&s;on, that he &s;hould be a Legi&s;lator, that approves of no Law, but what is of his own pre&s;cription, relying wholly upon his own rea&s;on, or rather phancie and opinion; conceiting all per&s;ons, him&s;elf excepted, bruti&s;h and irrational? Is not this the hu|mour and di&s;po&s;ition of your philo&s;ophi|cal crew? Did <HI>Diogenes, Zeno,</HI> or <HI>Epictetus</HI> ever de&s;erve to &s;it at the Helm of State? To which I reply; There are two &s;orts of Philo&s;ophers whom I judge altogether unfit to govern: the fir&s;t are they that have only had a &s;mack of Philo&s;ophy, &s;o that the thir&s;ting heat of their vitious
<PB N="37" REF="23">
de&s;ires and appetites is not quenched by vertue; and they them&s;elves lead lives quite contrary to the Precepts of Philo&s;ophy, for want of good ground and &s;olid foun|dation in that Science. Another &s;ort of Philo&s;ophers there is, quite contrary to the forementioned, who having <HI>&agrave; tenera aetate,</HI> from their very youth been conver&s;ant with Philo&s;ophers, and &s;tudied Philo&s;ophy, do wa&s;te away their daies in the contem|plative part only: &s;uch kind of Philo&s;ophy, which conduceth not to the emolument &amp; benefit of the Commonwealth or King|dom, is altogether improfitable. For, al|beit they be learned, wi&s;e, and have turned over mo&s;t Authors, and can give an ac|count of all their Precepts and rules; yet they applying their minds to contemplati|on, not being experienced in civill affairs, are unfit for Government. Now the&s;e con|templative Philo&s;ophers are ju&s;tly called <HI>Sapientes,</HI> but they are not <HI>prudentes;</HI> as Geometricians, Mathematicians, and all the Society of natural Philo&s;ophers. In like manner <HI>Diogenes, Zenocrates, Chry&s;ippus, Carneades, Democritus, Metrocles, Ari&s;tippus, Anaxagoras,</HI> and <HI>Thales,</HI> were wi&s;e men, and of profound knowledge; but not prudent; becau&s;e their manner of wi&s;dom and Phi|lo&s;ophy
<PB N="38" REF="24">
did prompt them to recreate and content them&s;elves in ob&s;cure, &s;ecret and hidden matters, contrary to the nature of prudence: and though the&s;e Sciences in them&s;elves are good and commendable, yet are they impertinent and unprofitable to the State, when kept clo&s;e to them&s;elves, and not employed for the publick good. Now, prudence con&s;i&s;ts in tho&s;e things that require deliberation and coun&s;el: yet, if tho&s;e contemplative Philo&s;ophers had not debarr'd them&s;elves from humane Society and conver&s;ation, but &s;ought after em|ployment in publike affairs, as <HI>Pericles, So|lon, Lycurgus, Plato, Demosthenes, Cato, Cice|ro,</HI> and others did, they had no doubt been men of incomparable wi&s;dom and pru|dence, which <HI>Socrates</HI> (though herein he contradict <HI>Ari&s;totle)</HI> &s;tyles the only vertue; meaning (as I conceive, with &s;ubmi&s;&s;ion to more mature judgements) that no vertue can be or continue without it. <HI>Bion</HI> was of opinion, That Prudence did excel all other vertues, as far as the &s;ight doth the re&s;t of the &s;en&s;es; affirming that vertue to be as proper and frequent in old men, as vigour and &s;trength in tho&s;e that are young. Wherefore it is requi&s;ite that our Senator be endued therewith; for he can neither
<PB N="39" REF="24">
&s;peak nor act any thing &s;utable to his age and gravity, if he be not, as with &s;auce, &s;ea|&s;oned therewith. The Latines call this vertue <HI>Prudentia, &agrave; providendo,</HI> from fore&s;ee|ing things to come, di&s;po&s;ing of tho&s;e that are pre&s;ent, and recollecting things pa&s;t. For, he that doth not ruminate on things pa&s;t, is altogether unmindful of his elap&s;ed life; and he that fore&s;ees not things future, is &s;ubject to many perils, and apt to be en|&s;nared by every misfortune. Prudence (&s;aith <HI>Cicero)</HI> is the knowledge of things good, evill, and indifferent; con&s;i&s;ting wholly in the choice of that which is to be embraced, as al&s;o in that which is to be e&s;chewed, or carefully avoyded. And ac|cording to <HI>Aristotle,</HI> it is a habit coupled with perfect rea&s;on, apt for good action, and exerci&s;ed in tho&s;e things which are ei|ther good or evil, and may evene or happen to man during this life. Therefore contem|plative wi&s;dome differs from Prudence in this, that the former exceedeth not the bounds of contemplation, and the latter is wholly exerci&s;ed in action, and the ma|nagement of humane affairs. <HI>Plato</HI> affir|meth, that there are two things ob&s;ervable in the life of Man; The fir&s;t is, For a man to know him&s;elf: And the &s;econd, To know
<PB N="40" REF="25">
and under&s;tand all things: Therefore let our Senator be &s;tored with this wi&s;dom, <HI>viz.</HI> of knowing him&s;elf; for without it, no rea&s;on, vertue, action or cogitation can be reputed good or perfect. By the help of this wi&s;dom, the prudent man fir&s;t &s;ettles and orders his own affairs; in which skill if he be deficient, he mu&s;t not be of|fended at the name of fool. Now, under Prudence is comprehended or contained the skill of well-regulating dome&s;tical bu|&s;ine&s;s, and the knowledge of enacting and making Laws, civill wi&s;dom, and policy in con&s;ultation and judgement. Which is the rea&s;on why <HI>Cicero</HI> termeth the prudent ma|nagement of oeconomiques, or hou&s;hold, dome&s;tical, and the fame in State-affairs, civill wi&s;dom. And to the end that the Se|nator may ground his wi&s;dom upon a &s;olid foundation, whereunto his imagi|nation may have recour&s;e for rea&s;on to &s;teer him to the truth; let him alwaies have before his eyes the&s;e things, hone&s;ty, and profit: So that what&s;oever he acteth or affirmeth privately, or publikely, may be directed by them both: for, all things that can be either conceived by rea&s;on, or ex|pre&s;&s;ed by truth, are included within the li|mits of the&s;e two. Wherefore it is conve|nient
<PB N="41" REF="25">
that he be furni&s;hed with a peracute wit, and &s;olid under&s;tanding, that he may dive into the ab&s;tru&s;e nature of things, and find out what is hone&s;t and profitable; le&s;t the mind hoodwinckt with inordinate af|fections and de&s;ires, &s;educe the judgement, and lead him from the path of truth. And many there are, who finding them&s;elves to have depraved their rea&s;on, by giving the reins to their loo&s;e affections and lu&s;ts, do fall into erronious opinions quite oppo&s;ite and contrary to wi&s;dome. Whence it follows inevitably, that they are not only cheated in their choice of that which is hone&s;t and profitable, but are blindfolded with the love of that which is ab&s;olutely di&s;hone&s;t and unprofitable. To prevent which errour, two things are to be taken into con&s;ideration. Fir&s;t, Not to take things unknown for known, and praecipitantly a&s;&s;ent unto them: Next, Not to give way in the lea&s;t to any evill cu&s;tome; (for, <HI>con|&s;uetudo</HI> or <HI>u&s;us &s;ecunda natura;</HI> Cu&s;tome doth tyrannize over the nature of man;) or to walk contrary to the rules of vertue. A thing that may with facility be compre|hended by a Senator, if he con&s;ider the good and welfare of the Commonwealth, which is the <HI>Meta</HI> or &s;cope that all wi&s;dom
<PB N="42" REF="26">
and coun&s;el aims at: nor can the Natives of his own Country, nay, wi&s;dom her &s;elf, require more at his hands, or expect more from him, than indu&s;try in pre&s;erving the &s;afety and felicity of the place of his nati|vity. But now it lies upon me to prove what Philo&s;ophy be&s;t befits a Senator.</P>
<P>Wherefore &s;ince the felicity of every Coun&s;ellor, and the quinte&s;&s;ence of all knowledge con&s;i&s;ts in action, it ought to be his care and &s;tudy to be exqui&s;ite in that part of Philo&s;ophy which pre&s;cribeth the rules of regulating mens actions, and the Science of Government; to the end, that he may under&s;tand what is the be&s;t cour&s;e of life; what is nece&s;&s;ary and requi&s;ite for the admini&s;tration of publike and private affaires, and be skilful in ordaining Laws, correcting Judgments, and governing of People. Let him therefore be expert in that part of Philo&s;ophy that in&s;tructeth the management of mans life, and the Art of Con&s;ultation. For otherwi&s;e what ac|count will he be able to give <HI>de vivendi ra|tione,</HI> of the be&s;t way of living, according to the rules of vertue, that is uncapable of gi|ving you a definition thereof? What di&s;|cour&s;e can &s;uch a one make concerning Coun&s;el, Ju&s;tice, Fortitude, Temperance,
<PB N="43" REF="26">
or Wi&s;dom? How &s;hall he appea&s;e the mutineers, &s;uppre&s;s &s;edition, or mitigate the rigour and &s;everity of the Laws, or proceed according to the rigour thereof, when he is ignorant of the precepts of Ju|&s;tice and Prudence? What coun&s;el or advice can he afford either of War, Peace, or Contracts, that under&s;tands not when War is lawful, or unlawful; Peace ju&s;t, or unju&s;t; and Treaties honorable, or di&s;ho|norable? Whenas he ought not only to conceive all the Precepts of vertue and mo|rality, and to under&s;tand them by name; but to exerci&s;e and put them in practice. The &s;um of which knowledge is contained in the Ethicks, Politicks, and Oeconomicks; from the&s;e, as from a Magazine or Store-hou&s;e, he may furni&s;h him&s;elf with all Rules, Directions, and Precepts, for the ex|erci&s;e of vertue, and the government of a Kingdom, as al&s;o the order of a dome&s;tical life. And though all this while we plead for the nece&s;&s;ity of Philo&s;ophy in our Sena|tors, yet are we clearly again&s;t the divi&s;i|ons and Sects of Philo&s;ophy; nor is it pro|fitable, but rather injurious to the Com|monwealth, that the minds of men &s;hould be divided into &s;everal whim&s;ies and opini|ons. Fir&s;t therefore, we extirpate Epicu|ri&s;m;
<PB N="44" REF="27">
Becau&s;e it being grounded on, and &s;upported by &s;en&s;ual delights and plea&s;ures, ought not to be in him whom we elect for our Senator. The Stoick we do not blame or accu&s;e; yet we hold it conve|nient that their Tenets be exploded, as un|fit for our Coun&s;ellor; in regard that (as <HI>Cicero</HI> &s;aith) they maintain the Philo&s;o|pher to be the only wi&s;e man, and that all other per&s;ons are but Thieves, barbarous, and infatuated. For, it were ab&s;urd to ad|mit him a Senator, that is of an opinion there is no wi&s;e Coun&s;ellor, Freeman, or Citizen, him&s;elf excepted. And though there hath ever been a di&s;&s;ention between the Stoick and Peripatetick touching the <HI>Summum bonum:</HI> yet we adhere to the lat|ter, becau&s;e they are the be&s;t Tutors of Vertue and good Manners, and the mo&s;t noble, valiant, wi&s;e, di&s;creet Captains: Coun&s;ellors, Emperours and Kings have i&s;&s;ued out of that Society. Be&s;ides, it is re|qui&s;ite that our Senator be well read in Hi|&s;tory, and exerci&s;ed in all humane Learn|ing: For fir&s;t, in Hi&s;tory he will find out the notable &s;ayings and acts of wi&s;e men, that have lived in elap&s;ed time, which are not &s;o plentifully found in any Books, as in the monumental Annals, and Chronicles
<PB N="45" REF="27">
of fore-pa&s;t Ages. This was the rea&s;on that moved <HI>Tully</HI> to call Hi&s;tory, The wit|ne&s;s of time, the light of truth, the memo|rial of life, and the Herald of Antiquity. For, can any per&s;on paint out &s;o fully to the life, or give &s;o perfect a delineation of Ver|tue, Fortitude, Ju&s;tice, Continence, Fruga|lity, and contempt of death, in an eloquent and fluent Oration, as may be read in the actions of <HI>Cornelii, Valerii, Fabritii, Curii, Decii, Mutii,</HI> and others? What noble <HI>He|roes</HI> have our modern times produced! Hath not the Politick <HI>Monck,</HI> Noble <HI>Ma&s;&s;ey,</HI> and Loyal <HI>Montro&s;s,</HI> been &s;ingular and almo&s;t unimitable for their Policy, Valour, and Magnanimity? From the&s;e, and the like, he may make an extract of the mo&s;t exact civill knowledge, and direct him&s;elf in the management of State-af|fairs. Be&s;ides, Policy mu&s;t be one of his chief &s;tudies: and he mu&s;t be expert in un|der&s;tanding the tran&s;actions of Noble|men, the humors, di&s;po&s;itions, and temper of all mens &s;pirits, the Order and Govern|ment of Commonweals, and civill So|cieties: it is al&s;o nece&s;&s;ary, that he be perfect in all Ordinances, Acts and Laws, either for Peace, War, Provi&s;ions, the qua|lity of the Subject, the admini&s;tration of
<PB N="46" REF="28">
the State, or the nature of men: as al&s;o to under&s;tand, what exalts, and what aba|&s;eth the mind; what Vertue is, what Di&s;cipline and Education is mo&s;t conve|nient for youth; what Cu&s;toms mu&s;t be ratified or made firm; what duty we owe to God, and what reverence to Religion, and Allegiance to our Soveraign: in all which, we have a <HI>Monck</HI> among us of late (though none that ever entred into Cano|nical Orders) who will &s;ufficiently in|&s;truct us. Nor mu&s;t he be ignorant in Leagues, Contracts, and Alliances with Forraign Princes and Potentates: Since &s;uch proceedings are dayly found in Kings Courts. Well therefore did <HI>Antonius</HI> de|&s;cribe a Senator or Coun&s;ellor, in the&s;e words: He is one that ought to under&s;tand by what means the Kingdom or Republick receives benefit; and when occa&s;ion offers, to put them in practice. And, &s;uch were in <HI>Rome</HI> the <HI>Lentuli, Gracchi, Metelli, Scipiones,</HI> and <HI>Lelii.</HI> Now, he that is well practi&s;ed in the Law, hath experience in War, or skill in oeconomicks, or dome&s;tick Autho|rity, de&s;erves to be promoted to the dignity of a Coun&s;ellor. Eloquence is al&s;o a great ornament to our Senator; but of that and &s;ome other qualifications, more at large in the en&s;uing Chapter.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="4" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="47" REF="28">
<HEAD>CHAP. IV.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Of Eloquence, Clemency, Piety, and other Ver|tues nece&s;&s;ary to the accompli&s;hment of a Senator.</HEAD>
<P>THe&s;e mo&s;t noble Sciences and Arts will be infinitely adorned in our Sena|tor by the addition of Eloquence, which is the true ornament of wi&s;dom. For, with|out this accompli&s;hment, all things el&s;e are as it were dead, till they do flouri&s;h by the help of Rhetorick; And an eloquent, ter&s;e, and curiou&s;ly-penn'd Oration doth not on|ly commend the Author, but the private and publike benefit is oftentimes promo|ted thereby. It is this that appea&s;eth with her neat-&s;pun blandi&s;hments the fury of our enraged enemies. Now, what&s;oever he pronounceth, it mu&s;t be done grave|ly, advi&s;edly, eloquently, readily, and with comely ge&s;ture; for this, according to the Poet,
<Q>&mdash;Emollit animos, &amp; temperat iras.</Q>
The &s;upple oyl of an in&s;inuating Oration
<PB N="48" REF="29">
will heal the wounds of a mutinous Rab|ble, and reduce them to their former obedi|ence. Next unto Eloquence, the know|ledge and in&s;ight in the Law is required; the end whereof tends to the con&s;ervation of Equity. And indeed, who can with greater wi&s;dom decide a cau&s;e or contro|ver&s;ie? Who can better appea&s;e &s;edition, (the poy&s;on of a Kingdom) or more ra|tionally defend the Laws, Cu&s;toms, Rights and Priviledges of the People, than he that is skill'd in the Law? Well then may we &s;ay, as it hath been affirmed heretofore, That the Habitation of a learned Lawyer is the Oracle of the City. Now, the Law in all Kingdoms is bound to tye every man to his duty, and to defend them &s;o long as they continue vertuous and faithful. But, it is not &s;ufficient only to enact Laws nei|ther, that puni&s;h or recompence men ac|cording to demerits; but, to compo&s;e Laws, Cu&s;toms, and Exerci&s;es (as the La|cedemonians did) wherein the People may take delight: be&s;ides, &s;uch judgement mu&s;t be u&s;ed in the pre&s;cribing of Laws, that therein all occa&s;ion of offences may be re|moved. For, as the Phy&s;ician by his medi|cines heals the maladies of the body; &s;o the Coun&s;ellor ought by good and whol|&s;ome
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Laws to cure the di&s;tempers of the mind. Yet they are not to be approved of, who perceiving an inconveniency grow|ing, immediately fall to execution, without con&s;idering how the &s;ame mi&s;chievous de|&s;ign may be utterly extirpated: For it is more con&s;onant to rea&s;on, for a Senator to endeavour the reducing men to ju&s;tice and hone&s;ty, than to &s;tudy how to execute them for every offence committed. What man can be &s;o inhumane, that would not rather remove the cau&s;e? and then a&s;&s;uredly the ef|fect would cea&s;e. Who would not rather provide corn for the poor, than through the want thereof force them to turn Rob|bers, and &s;end them to execution for it? And who is there, that &s;eeing the Kingdom over&s;pread with debauchery, and the peo|dle addicted to licentiou&s;ne&s;s, would not endeavour to correct and reform the&s;e en|ormities by pecuniary mulcts, &s;ooner than by penal Laws? Therefore, as <HI>Cicero</HI> &s;aith, if thou wilt remove Covetou&s;ne&s;s, take away her Mother, Exece&s;s. Wherefore he mu&s;t have all the commodities and di&s;commo|dities of his Country before his eyes, and then he may be &s;o expert in State-Chi|rurgery, as to heal the &s;ores and wounds wherewith the body politick is oftentimes
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troubled. Yet we de&s;ire not that our Sena|tor &s;hould be a pleader at the Bar, Proctor, or Advocate, becau&s;e that mo&s;t of that Tribe (Charity forbids me to &s;ay all) be|ing mercenary, are many times the mini|&s;ters of fal&s;hood and inju&s;tice, bearing a|bout them minds and tongues principled again&s;t ju&s;tice and truth. Indeed, it is a difficult piece of bu&s;ine&s;s for him to be a Lover of equity and truth, who&s;e tongue hath been accu&s;tomed to walk for lucre. Not but that many famous Coun&s;ellors have been found among tho&s;e gowned Gentlemen; but all men are incident to failings, of what profe&s;&s;ion or function &s;oever: nor is this to be imputed to them alone, there are others that &s;hake hands with them: But enough of that. Civill Di&s;cipline falls next under our con&s;idera|tion, whereby he is in&s;tructed how to lead his life di&s;creetly, and to govern his Coun|try with gravity and ju&s;tice. Now he was termed a civill man among Philo&s;ophers, who by vertue and wi&s;dom was enabled to command civilly; and he oftentimes had the authority of making Laws, and governing of Subjects. <HI>Plato</HI> in his Com|monwealth hath framed two &s;orts of Di|&s;cipline; the one relating to the exerci&s;es
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of the body, and the other of the mind: the di&s;cipline of the mind he called <HI>Mu|&s;ica,</HI> and that of the body <HI>Gymnastica.</HI> Now, by the harmony of Mu&s;ick, he un|der&s;tands a certain concord or con&s;ent of mind, wherein all actions do amiably a|gree with vertue, and vertue with them; which <HI>Copula</HI> Law and Philo&s;ophy make up in Man: for hereby we are capable of judging what is hone&s;t, and what di&s;ho|ne&s;t; what ju&s;t, and what unju&s;t; what is to be loved, and what to be loathed: and be&s;ides, what duty we owe to our Parents, Princes and Magi&s;trates. By <HI>Gymna&s;tica,</HI> he means the exerci&s;es of the body, where|by the vigour and &s;trength of man is much helped and encrea&s;ed. This con&s;i&s;ts in leaping, running, wre&s;tling, hunting, riding, darting, &s;wimming, to be both right and left-handed; in brief, all mi|litary exerci&s;es and hone&s;t recreations are contained in this word <HI>Gymna&s;tica.</HI> It is very nece&s;&s;ary and requi&s;ite in all &s;orts of men (much more then in our Senator) to conjoyn the exerci&s;es of the body with the vertues of the mind, and to mix Fortitude with Temperance. For, as by the one, Man a&s;pireth to that which is noble; &s;o by the other, he thinks it no
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derogation to him to be humble; and be|ing thus in <HI>aequilibrio,</HI> he inclines neither to this &s;ide, nor that; &s;o that he &s;hall never dare, nor doubt too much. And as by For|titude we are able to repul&s;e injury, &s;o by Temperance and Moderation we ab&s;tain from offering injury. By the former, we are prompted to an hone&s;t becoming vio|lence; by the latter, we are in&s;tructed to check and curb hair-bain'd fury, and to quench the flames of a vindicative &s;pirit. Now, it is the opinion of <HI>Plato,</HI> that the Mu&s;ical and Gymna&s;tical Sciences con|duce much to the&s;e qualifications; For to the one, Temperance, and the other Vertues may be referred; to the other, Fortitude of body, and magnanimity of mind. Wherefore it is convenient, that they be both united, and walk hand in hand; be|cau&s;e the Gymna&s;tick Exerci&s;es alone, create firmne&s;s; and Mu&s;ick of it &s;elf, be|gets too much mildne&s;s and effeminacy: but both twinn'd and coupled together in any man, do mould him according to the &s;hape and perfection of Vertue. There|fore every per&s;on that would be thought fit for coun&s;el, mu&s;t be thus exerci&s;ed; be|cau&s;e hereby he is adapted both for peace and war; and to this very purpo&s;e was he
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born; for he mu&s;t be as able to perform the Office of a Commander, as a Coun|&s;ellor: notable therefore, and worthy the mentioning, was that Roman In&s;titution, which impo&s;ed a command upon them to train up their noble and honourable Citi|zens to be Coun&s;ellors at home, and Cap|tains abroad: which is the rea&s;on, that <HI>Rome</HI> enclo&s;ed &s;o great a number of Sage Senators and &s;tout Souldiers within the circumference of her walls: In&s;omuch that <HI>Cyneas,</HI> the Emba&s;&s;adour of <HI>Pyrrhus,</HI> having had audience of the &s;plendid and illu&s;tri|ous Senate, reported, that in <HI>Rome</HI> he had &s;een an A&s;&s;embly of many Kings. Nor can they be skill'd in commanding, if the Subjects are not exerci&s;ed in obedience; which is performed by their love and ho|nour to the Magi&s;trate, as well as obeying their Commands; all which proceeds from the due execution of Laws: and the fir&s;t &s;tep that leads up to the Temple of Vertue, is to &s;ubmit to the Law, and the Law ma|ker: for the Law of every Kingdom, State, or Republick, is nothing but vertue, and a good <HI>decorum</HI> in the leading of our lives, reduced to certain rules. <HI>Theopompus</HI> King of <HI>Sparta,</HI> hearing it related that the rea&s;on why that Commonwealth flouri&s;hed &s;o
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much, proceeded from the Kings skill in Policy and Government; replied, No &s;uch matter; for the true rea&s;on is this, The Subjects are well exerci&s;ed in their duty and obedience to Superiours. And (as <HI>Plutarch</HI> hath it) to obey the Magi&s;tracie and the Laws, to undergo all dangers and travels with patience, to fight manfully, and die voluntarily, was the chief point of the Lacedemonian di&s;cipline. And herein they were all trained; to the end, that be|ing thus in&s;tructed, they might know how to defend their Country in time of War, govern it in time of Peace; and &s;uch as live privately, to employ their vacant hours hone&s;tly, that is, in the pro&s;ecution of Learning; obtaining a becoming ge&s;ture, mu&s;ick, painting, vaulting, and the like, that they may keep them&s;elves in action, and be freed from that gro&s;s imputation of ig|norant. It behoves him al&s;o to be witty and docible. Now, Wit is a certain natu|ral force of rea&s;on, able to conceive what is rational; which, although many times it be not helpt by indu&s;try, art or memory, yet it is powerful of it &s;elf, and without learning may burni&s;h a man. Wherefore he mu&s;t &s;o know his own wit, as to become &s;harp in rea&s;on, and finding out the cau&s;es
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of things: which of it &s;elf is a happine&s;s, and that a great one too; as the Poet &s;ings,
<Q>Felix qui potuit rerum cogno&s;cere cau&s;as.</Q>
Nay, wi&s;dom her &s;elf, whereby we fir&s;t conceive all things, &s;prings from acutene&s;s of wit: Now, they that are adorned with them both, are termed ingenious; and that wit is the be&s;t, and mo&s;t to be commended, which is con&s;tant, &s;trong, &s;harp, plea&s;ant, and natural. Now, the edge of ingenuity is very much acuated by the whet&s;tone of docility and memory: By the one, we are taught to make a con&s;truction of tho&s;e things that are laid before us; by the o|ther, we retain what&s;oever proceeds from our invention, or the expre&s;&s;ions of others; therefore it is requi&s;ite our Coun&s;ellor &s;hould be well exerci&s;ed in the&s;e accom|pli&s;hments: for, it is an argument of a dull, &s;low, ignorant per&s;on, not to have a quick conception of what is &s;aid, and a tenacious memory to recollect what hath been &s;poken by others. Now next, he mu&s;t have Under&s;tanding: For as wit is the ornament of a Senator, &s;o Under&s;tand|ing is the light of wit, by which we con|ceive
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all things, or their <HI>Idaea's,</HI> whether true or fal&s;e. For, by common under|&s;tanding we comprehend the knowledge of things, and thereby pa&s;s a judgement on them, and conclude, all that is hone&s;t is to be referred to vertue, and what is unlawful or di&s;hone&s;t, to vice: yet this under&s;tand|ing is not &s;eparated from the Sen&s;es, who are, as it were, Interpreters and Reporters of knowledge; yet mu&s;t we be careful to avoid being deceived by &s;en&s;ual judge|ment; for it is frequently known, that ei|ther art or &s;ubtilty, &s;ingly or joyntly, play the cheat with us; which errour is to be di|ligently avoided. Be&s;ides, he mu&s;t be cir|cum&s;pect, not only in private, but publick chances and events: For he mu&s;t endea|vour to fore&s;ee all blu&s;tring &s;torms that may be injurious to the State, and &s;tudy the pre&s;ervation of every member thereof. This that we call circum&s;pection, is a care|ful and mature con&s;ideration of things to be practi&s;ed or acted; and of great impor|tance, as well in the &s;erene time of peace, as in the blu&s;tring &s;ea&s;on of war; becau&s;e that wi&s;e circum&s;pection diverts the force and fury of Fortune, and we are ready to &s;ubmit to grave coun&s;el and advice. In this vertue <HI>Quintus Fabius</HI> did excell; for
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he according to the Poet, by procra&s;tinati|on and lingring delay, pre&s;erved the Ro|man State.
<Q>Unus homo nobis cunctaendo re&s;tituit rem.</Q>
But on the contrary, <HI>Flaminius</HI> relying up|on the arm of &s;trength, and his courage, in|circum&s;pectly a&s;&s;aulted <HI>Hannibal,</HI> to his great di&s;advantage and prejudice. So <HI>Q. Scipio</HI> the Con&s;ul, with divers that might be mentioned, through their incircum&s;pe|ction were infe&s;ted by the <HI>Cimbri.</HI> And it is as u&s;eful in time of peace: for the Sena|tor &s;hould be eyed like <HI>Argus,</HI> and <HI>Lynx-</HI>&s;ighted, to pry narrowly into tho&s;e things that might ari&s;e to the di&s;commodity of the Commonwealth, and make a di&s;covery of them; otherwi&s;e, he cannot prevent the &s;editions, wars, and calamities that dayly happen to the prejudice of the Common|wealth. Some men are &s;o ignorant and blinded with &s;uperfluity and plea&s;ure, that they can hardly di&s;cern things that are placed before their eyes, much le&s;s fore&s;ee them; which &s;ort of men, as per&s;ons gi|ven up to their private more than the pub|like intere&s;t, are to be exempted from Go|vernment. For, though they under&s;tand
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that through want of circum&s;pection war threatens a Nation, the people are capti|vated, the Country run over and ruinated, Towns &s;ack'd, Hou&s;es burnt, fields wa&s;ted, Temples profaned; yet u&s;e they no circum|&s;pection, coun&s;el, and medicine, either to cure or cool their fury or rage. But the grave Coun&s;ellor &s;tudies by what means to continue the common &s;afety and wel|fare of a Country or Kingdom: He pro|videth, that the rage of a barbarous enemy may be beaten back or re&s;trained by For|tre&s;&s;es, Pallizadoes, and Garri&s;ons; that Ca&s;tles and Bulwarks may be erected, the places of defence fortified, and all breaches &s;topt up; all which thus ordered, check the fury of an in&s;ulting enemy, and annihilate his barbarous de&s;ign and intention to bring all to de&s;truction. Now there being a con|vention of well-trained Citizens, armed and ready to oppo&s;e, the Commonwealth is thereby fortified, (and the Lacede|monians call &s;tout men the walls of <HI>Sparta)</HI> di&s;daining the force of forrein enemies, and preventing their offering vio|lence.</P>
<P>As for his Speech, he mu&s;t be com|pendious, curt and grave, in all his O|rations that he pens, or Speeches that he
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makes; as <HI>Horace</HI> advi&s;eth him,
<Q>In verbis etiam tenuis, cautu&s;que &s;erendis.</Q>
For, a ra&s;h incon&s;iderate &s;peech, is not &s;o &s;oon called back as pronounced; and the unadvi&s;ed utterance thereof, may prejudice the Commonwealth, and afford the Ora|tor matter of repentance. And the rea&s;on is this, becau&s;e in an <HI>extempore</HI> &s;peech we pour out and divulge many things that are to be concealed.</P>
<P>Nor mu&s;t our Senator be over&s;wayed by Pa&s;&s;ion; for, pa&s;&s;ion is like fal&s;e po&s;iti|on in Ver&s;e, nine faults at lea&s;t. Now it is the noble&s;t piece of wi&s;dom under the hea|vens, for a man to monarchize over him&s;elf, &s;o as to &s;ubjugate and conquer his affecti|ons, according to that known ver&s;e,
<Q><L>Fortior e&s;t qui &s;e, quam qui forti&s;sima vincit</L>
<L>Moenia&mdash;</L></Q>
It is a greater piece of valour for a man to &s;ubdue and curb his hair-brain'd pa&s;&s;i|on, than to conquer the &s;toute&s;t enemy. Be&s;ides, when he is put upon a parley with the enemy, a treaty with Emba&s;&s;adors, or a conference with neighbouring Princes,
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he mu&s;t be very circum&s;pect; for their en|deavour is to di&s;cover &s;ecrets by conjecture, and fi&s;h out the de&s;ign intended by circum|&s;tances and &s;igns. Wherefore he mu&s;t have a con&s;tant fixed re&s;olution, and a com|po&s;ed countenance; for the changing of the countenance, motion of the eyes, and variety of ge&s;ture, are the bewrayers of mens minds, as <HI>Gondamore</HI> well ob&s;erved; and indeed, <HI>facies e&s;t index rerum.</HI> One may &s;oon read a mans mind in his face, and by the calculation of his looks gue&s;s at his in|tentions. And as he mu&s;t not be too cre|dulous, no more mu&s;t he be altogether in|credulous, unle&s;s the reputation of the matter or per&s;on compel him to it; Since it is very un&s;eemly, and beneath the gravity of a judicious Senator, to maintain a contro|ver&s;ie again&s;t an apparent truth. Neither would we confine him to an ab&s;olute &s;i|lence, or padlock his mouth, &s;o as to debar him of that excellent gift of &s;peech; for, thereby he may be thought &s;tupid or effe|minate, &s;ince the one is imputed to igno|rance, and the other to a kind of maidenly mode&s;ty, or misbecoming ba&s;hfulne&s;s. Therefore he mu&s;t u&s;e a mean between both; yet &s;o, that he be a greater hearer than &s;peaker: Nature be&s;towed on man a pair
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of ears, and but one &s;ingle tongue. Yet, notwith&s;tanding all this, it mu&s;t needs be judged as great a piece of di&s;cretion to know when to be &s;ilent, as well as how, where, to whom, and in what place to &s;peak.</P>
<P>Next, Sagacity and craftine&s;s is requi|&s;ite: for, War was never more politickly managed, Armies more &s;ecurely gover|ned, nor the plots and machinations of &s;ubtile enemies more wi&s;ely undermined, or overthrown, than by the vertue of cau|tion; which he that wants, can no way be termed a Captain General. Now, Saga|city is a &s;harp and plea&s;ant conceit; and as it is the property of a wi&s;e man to con&s;ult well, &s;o it is the part of an apprehen&s;ive &s;pirit, ingeniou&s;ly to under&s;tand, and pa&s;s a &s;olid &s;entence or judgement of what ano|ther &s;peaketh. And as he mu&s;t be quick of apprehen&s;ion, &s;o it is likewi&s;e nece&s;&s;ary that he be crafty and &s;ubtill in &s;earching and prying into the thoughts of Subjects, to the end he may under&s;tand what they de&s;ire, what they expect or hope for, and what their inclination binds them mo&s;t unto. By which means, he will not only keep the Subject clo&s;e to his lawful obedi|ence, but al&s;o by knowing their intended
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con&s;piracies, prevent the evil thereof. For, &s;ometimes debauched Subjects aime at the de&s;truction of &s;ober &s;olid per&s;ons; induced thereunto, or rather &s;educed, by hate, ma|lice, or in&s;olency; &s;ometimes becau&s;e they find them&s;elves inferiour to others in ri|ches, dignity or authority; and &s;ometimes becau&s;e they imagine them&s;elves to be in|con&s;iderable, and of little or no e&s;teem in the Kingdom, Republick, or State wherein Providence hath allotted them their being and re&s;idence: And &s;o by the&s;e means, create war, and cau&s;e &s;edition, and reduce the State to an apparent hazard. In &s;up|pre&s;&s;ing the&s;e commotions and cogitations of wicked men, he mu&s;t be clo&s;e and re&s;er|ved, not dealing openly, or by direct oppo|&s;ition; but rather by &s;oft per&s;wa&s;ion, kind admonition, earne&s;t entreaty, or favoura|ble cha&s;ti&s;ement, reduce them to a better temper, and furni&s;h them with more ho|ne&s;t principles. But, if he deal with a re|fractory &s;tubborn people, he mu&s;t menace them with authority, and terrifie them with &s;everity, that &s;o he may divert them from &s;uch execrable enterpri&s;es; perpetu|ally meditating on the con&s;ervation of the Commonwealth, which is con&s;ummated by his endeavour for the felicity of Sub|jects,
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and his extirpation of &s;edition and di&s;cord, with their efficient cau&s;es.</P>
<P><HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> &s;aith, that a man may &s;peak doubtfully upon any occa&s;ion twice, and be excu&s;ed: but if he trip the third time, he is permitted to &s;peak no more in that cau&s;e. Nor mu&s;t he be tedious or prolix; for a long-winded Oration, cram'd with cart-rope &s;peeches, longer than the memory of man can fathom, doth but talk them into dulne&s;s, and &s;ooner &s;tupifie their minds than quicken their attentions. And he mu&s;t likewi&s;e &s;uit his di&s;cour&s;e to the capacity of his Auditory; for, he prodi|gals a Mine of Excellency (&s;aith one of our Learned Gentlemen) that wa&s;ts a ter&s;e Oration to an ignorant a&s;&s;embly, where <HI>Mercury</HI> him&s;elf, were he Orator, would lo&s;e his labour. Therefore as his &s;peech mu&s;t not be over-long, (a fault that <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> &s;ometimes found <HI>Cato</HI> guilty of, and reproved him for) no more mu&s;t it be ob|&s;cured with aenigmatical &s;entences, or in|tricate words, which puzzle the Auditors rather than profit them; and by labouring in the explication of the terms, make them forget the &s;ubject and matter of the di&s;|cour&s;e.</P>
<P>Now it importeth not much whether his
<PB N="64" REF="37">
&s;peech be penn'd or rehear&s;ed; yet the rea|&s;ons written are more &s;olid, and penn'd with more diligence, if the matter require a long Oration.</P>
<P>His voice &s;hould be manly, promi&s;ing of gravity, not effeminacy, clear and audible; not &s;o low as cannot well be heard, nor &s;o loud as to be term'd bawling.</P>
<P>And as he mu&s;t be moderate in his &s;peech, &s;o it is requi&s;ite that he be of a temperate mind. Now, Nature hath &s;o ordered it, that there is a kind of combate or contention between the mind and body of man, &s;u&s;pending and diverting his di&s;|po&s;ition from the true end of vertue. For, the alluring irretiating lu&s;ts of the body do labour to oppre&s;s and en&s;lave the mind; and the mind armed and fortified with rea|&s;on, doth endeavour to re&s;i&s;t and oppugn them: and that vertue of mind is called Temperance, which is employed in con|temning all plea&s;ures, e&s;pecially tho&s;e that are known by the &s;en&s;es, as Ta&s;te, and Touch; yet doth it not generally dete&s;t all plea&s;ures, but only tho&s;e that thwart ver|tue and rea&s;on. Now, &s;ome plea&s;ures there are by nature lawful, and others unlawful; and both incident to the mind, as well as the body. The corporeal plea&s;ures are
<PB N="65" REF="37">
bred up and born with us, &s;o that with difficulty are they re&s;trained, e&s;pecially in tho&s;e men that take more delight and complacency in the exerci&s;es of the body than tho&s;e of the mind, which renders them bruti&s;h and &s;en&s;ual. Therefore the body mu&s;t &s;ubmit to the checks and con|troulment of the mind, and by this means man may attain perfection. All Vertues conduce to the felicity of a Kingdom, but Temperance alone is the pre&s;ervatrix of fe|licity; for it keeps the State from that in|fection which oftentimes ari&s;eth from ex|ce&s;s and immoderation, and hath &s;ubverted many famous Cities and Countries. Now every Senator ought to furni&s;h the King|dom with &s;uch Laws as may puni&s;h riot and exce&s;s, le&s;t the Subject being poy&s;on'd therewith, Covetou&s;ne&s;s &s;pring up among them, the mother of all Vices. We read, that in <HI>Rome</HI> there were Laws and Ordi|nances made and enacted again&s;t exce&s;s both in expences and apparel. The Lace|demonians did al&s;o keep their fea&s;ts in publike places, that no man &s;hould dare to be wa&s;tful in the &s;ight of other Citizens, and &s;o encourage them to an imitation of their luxuriou&s;ne&s;s or extravagancy. Here|tofore, the Magi&s;trates of <HI>Gallia Belgica</HI> al|lowed
<PB N="66" REF="38">
of no Law nor Cu&s;tome that might make the people effeminate. And at this day, licentiou&s;ne&s;s and immoderate expen|ces are inhibited by Law in &s;ome parts of <HI>Italy.</HI> And &s;ince the lu&s;ts of men are in&s;a|tiable, (as appears by <HI>Catiline</HI> and his fel|low-con&s;pirators, who being thriftle&s;s and licentious per&s;ons, attempted to make war again&s;t the Commonwealth) they mu&s;t be held in with the bridle of the Law. And the Senator mu&s;t be free from intem|perancy, that &s;o he may be an example for others to follow and imitate; wherein let him take pattern by the &s;everity of the <HI>Cen&s;ores,</HI> who were the Ma&s;ters and Tu|tors of civil temperance and mode&s;ty: and &s;o by private admonition, as well as pub|like ca&s;tigation, he may withdraw them from intemperance. Nor is this vertue without her Concomitants, Mode&s;ty, Ba&s;hfulne&s;s, Hone&s;ty, and Continency. And by the&s;e, mans life is beautified, ador|ned, and made happy. Mode&s;ty (&s;ay the Stoicks) is a vertue that containeth the knowledge of decent &s;peech and action. And what&s;oever we &s;peak or do, we ought to ob&s;erve a mean, le&s;t we expatiate on a &s;ubject more largely than nece&s;&s;ity re|quires, forgetting the Coun&s;el of <HI>Solon, Ne</HI>
<PB N="67" REF="38">
<HI>quid nimis.</HI> Wherefore tye your &s;elf to a comely <HI>decorum</HI> in all your words and acti|ons, compo&s;ing your countenance, eyes, ge&s;ture, motion, and your whole body to a mode&s;t po&s;ture, that the &s;implicity and in|tegrity of your intentions may thereby be made manife&s;t and apparent.</P>
<P>Ba&s;hfulne&s;s &s;ometimes gains a man much commendation; and this qualifica|tion renders a man hone&s;t, and induceth him to lead a good life, becau&s;e in all acti|ons it in&s;tructs how to avoid all reproach, obloquy, and villany. And as Ju&s;tice for|bids the wronging of a per&s;on by act or deed; &s;o Ba&s;hfulne&s;s teacheth a man not to be offended: for a good man doth not only voluntarily ab&s;tain from doing injury, but is, as it were, frightned from it by Ba&s;hful|ne&s;s. Yet I mean not here, that Ba&s;hful|ne&s;s that is frequent with young men, and Offenders, becau&s;e they are compelled or con&s;trained to that kind of &s;hamefac'd|ne&s;s; and that perturbation of mind doth misbecome a grave and temperate per&s;on; But that that we hunt after, ari&s;eth from a vertuous di&s;po&s;ition, and &s;o gets a certain habit or exerci&s;e, accompanied with a fix|ed re&s;olution to avoid all evill: &s;o that if at any time through ignorance an errour be
<PB N="68" REF="39">
committed, we remain a&s;hamed; which is commendable. <HI>Julius Cae&s;ar</HI> engaged with <HI>Pompeius</HI> the younger at <HI>Corduba,</HI> percei|ving his men ready to retreat, and &s;eek for refuge by their heels, &s;teps out into the front, and there in per&s;on behaved him&s;elf manfully; which the Souldiers &s;eeing, could not for &s;hame but turn about, and face the enemy again; being, partly by the valour of their General, and partly by their own &s;hamefac'dne&s;s, in&s;tigated thereunto.</P>
<P>There is in man a certain natural in|&s;tinct of hone&s;ty, prompting and &s;purring him on to the performance of all lawful actions, and diverting him from the perpe|tration of what is unlawful; which pro|ceedeth from vertue; and therein her dig|nity re&s;teth, though &s;ometimes it ari&s;eth from fame, glory and opinion. Now, he that through diligent ob&s;ervation under|&s;tandeth what is meant by mea&s;ure, order, and gravity, and ob&s;erves this &s;weet <HI>deco|rum</HI> in his words and actions, making it his chiefe&s;t care not to think or &s;peak any thing un&s;eemly, effeminate, or licenti|ous, may be termed hone&s;t; and the power of hone&s;ty is &s;o great, that of it &s;elf it &s;uf|ficeth to di&s;&s;wade men from an ignomini|ous life.</P>
<P><PB N="69" REF="39">
Among the number of vertues required in our Senator, Continency &amp; Ab&s;tinency challenge no mean place; for, they not on|ly contemn the <HI>illecebrae,</HI> or allurements of inordinate de&s;ires, but al&s;o withhold our eyes from beholding, or our hands from fa&s;tning on them. Nor is there a more no|ble &s;pectacle, than to &s;ee men contented with what nature and indu&s;try hath allot|ted, without coveting what appertains to others; which they might ea&s;ily do, did they but con&s;ider, that <HI>Natura pauc is conten|ta:</HI> Nature will be &s;atisfied with mean commons. <HI>Paulus Aemylius</HI> is highly extol|led for his continency, who converted no part of the va&s;t wealth that was brought out of <HI>Macedonia</HI> and <HI>Spain</HI> to his own pri|vate u&s;e, but delivered the whole into the publike Exchequer; choo&s;ing rather to be termed poor, than branded with the name of deceitful: And after his expiration, his goods being &s;old under the Launce <HI>(uti mos erat,</HI> according to cu&s;tome) there was not left a &s;ufficient competency for his Wife to live on. The example of <HI>Scipio Africanus</HI> is admirable, who in his greener years, at the taking of <HI>Carthage,</HI> being but twenty years old, had there (among many other captives) a Virgin of incomparable
<PB N="70" REF="40">
beauty, yet did he not offer to deflower her, but gave her to a man unto whom &s;he was formerly betrothed; and be&s;towed all that gold upon her for a dowry, which her friends offered for her redemption. We therefore judge it nece&s;&s;ary that our Sena|tor be continent, imitating <HI>Pericles</HI> in his advice to <HI>Sophocles</HI> his A&s;&s;ociate, and Prae|tor at <HI>Rome;</HI> who fixing his eye on a beau|tiful Roman Damo&s;el, whom they met ac|cidentally in their way to the Senate-hou&s;e, and being &s;omewhat too large in her commendation; told him, that a Sena|tor mu&s;t not only keep hands free from corruption, but al&s;o cha&s;te eyes, that ca&s;t no wanton glances, becau&s;e they are grand in&s;tigations to lu&s;t. Wherefore, it was judged an act of di&s;cretion in <HI>Cato</HI> the Cen|&s;or, to turn <HI>Lucius Quintus Flaminius</HI> out of the Senate for his incontinency; becau&s;e he being Con&s;ul in <HI>France,</HI> permitted a common Strumpet, at her reque&s;t, to &s;trike a Pri&s;oner that had his Sentence pa&s;t, with|out offence. Nay, <HI>Manlius</HI> was deve&s;ted of that dignity, for ki&s;&s;ing his own Wife in the &s;ight of his own Daughter. And <HI>Sa|lu&s;tius</HI> for adultery, and light actions, was excluded from fitting (had it been &s;o with us, <HI>Henry Martin</HI> had never re&s;ted &s;o long
<PB N="71" REF="40">
in the Parliament-Hou&s;e.) I omit &s;pea|king of <HI>Alexander</HI> the Great, with many more, who by their continency gain'd no le&s;s honour than by their martial tri|umphs.</P>
<P>Now, it is mo&s;t certain, that there is nothing brings more di&s;honour to the dig|nity of a Senator, than a leud, debauched, incontinent life; becau&s;e it procureth pri|vate obloquy or reproach, and defaceth, or at lea&s;t blemi&s;heth the Maje&s;ty of com|manding.</P>
<P><HI>Sardanapalus</HI> &s;pun out his daies among the Di&s;taff-bearers, I mean women, con|&s;uming all his time in incontinent exer|ci&s;es, wa&s;ting both his internal and exter|nal &s;ub&s;tance upon wanton women, and the plea&s;ing his gu&s;t; as appears by that Epitaph, which, living, he commanded to be engraven on his Tomb,
<Q>Ede, Bibe, Lude.</Q>
Which <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> chancing to &s;py, &s;topt, and read; and &s;miling, &s;aid, It was fitter to be fixed on the grave of an Oxe, than the Tomb of a Prince.</P>
<P>All plea&s;ures that are not reduced to ne|ce&s;&s;ity and hone&s;ty, are reproachful; and
<PB N="72" REF="41">
tho&s;e above all, draw men to vice and un|cleanne&s;s mo&s;t, that are di&s;cerned by the touch and ta&s;te. Wherefore the Coun|&s;ellor mu&s;t be careful, that neither his own, nor the life of his Subjects, be implunged in|to the mire of voluptuou&s;ne&s;s and ob&s;cenity; which may be &s;oon effected, by removing all occa&s;ions of intemperancy. The Lace|daemonians u&s;ed to &s;hew their drunken &s;er|vants to their children, that they, beholding their &s;ordidne&s;s and be&s;tiality, might ab|hor the vice of exce&s;&s;ive compotation. But it were to be wi&s;hed that we could follow, as well as read the&s;e in&s;tances. Great was the moderation and temperance of the An|cients in their diet; for, they lived not to eat, but did eat to live: Though in the&s;e our modern times the plague of intempe|rance is &s;o epidemical, that more men are infected with, and peri&s;h thereby, than by the rage or fury of war; and it is the mode for them to drink other mens healths &s;o long, till at la&s;t they drink away their own. Who would not then commend <HI>M. Curius</HI> the Roman Senator, that had rather the Emba&s;&s;adors &s;ent by the Samnites &s;hould find him at a homely &s;upper, quenching his thir&s;t in a woodden Bowl, than &s;urroun|ned or accommodated with all the variety
<PB N="73" REF="41">
Nature or Art could afford? Nay, he refu|&s;ed the Gold they pre&s;ented him with; &s;aying, I had rather command tho&s;e that are rich, than be rich. I need not mention <HI>Fabricius, Fabius, Tubero, Cato</HI> and <HI>Scipio,</HI> who&s;e temperate and &s;ober lives have eter|nized their names. <HI>Horten&s;ius</HI> went not without a reproof, for pre&s;enting his Gue&s;ts with a boyl'd Peacock, at a Supper prepared for the Augurs. And <HI>Ca&s;sius</HI> was thought intemperate, for drinking a little water in publike, and not enduring thir&s;t for a &s;mall time. Yet do we not tye our Senator to &s;o much &s;trictne&s;s, but only to moderation in all things. <HI>Duronius</HI> was re|moved from the Senate, becau&s;e that he being a Tribune, made null the Law for the re&s;traint of fea&s;ting.</P>
<P>Surely, the Roman State was altoge|ther happy in &s;uch Senators, that were not only Ma&s;ters of Coun&s;el, but Tutors of Vertue and good Manners. Now, that the people of <HI>Rome</HI> were temperate, even to admiration, may be conjectured from what is reported of them: when the pre&s;ents which <HI>Pyrrhus</HI> King of <HI>Epire,</HI> after his overthrow, brought to <HI>Rome,</HI> were pub|likely &s;hewn, hoping thereby to gain the good will of the People, there was not one
<PB N="74" REF="42">
among them, that did &s;o much as offer to &s;tretch forth his hand to lay hold on any of them; &s;o as that King &s;aw him&s;elf twice vanqui&s;hed at once, as well by continency, as force of arms. But, when exce&s;s found footing in <HI>Rome,</HI> after the victory obtained in <HI>A&s;ia,</HI> and that the people began to wan|tonize through plenty and idlene&s;s; on a &s;udden, the civil di&s;cipline of Temperance and Par&s;imony was neglected; and in lieu thereof, Avaritiou&s;ne&s;s attended with a Legion of other vices, &s;oon entred among the Roman Legions, and (if we may cre|dit <HI>Salust)</HI> brought their City to a &s;ad and lamentable Cata&s;trophe. Nor indeed is there any thing that &s;ooner works the ruine of King, Kingdom, and Subjects, than exce&s;s. <HI>Diogenes</HI> &s;eeing a Bill upon the door of a Prodigals hou&s;e, which &s;hewed it was to be let; &s;aid, I knew very well that Hou&s;e was &s;o full of meat and wine, that ere long it would vomit out the Ma&s;ter. Now 'tis mo&s;t certain, that immo|derate pampering, and exce&s;&s;ive drinking, wa&s;teth the &s;trength of the body, and pre|judiceth the mind. Notable is that Law of <HI>Solon,</HI> whereby that Senator was thought to de&s;erve death, that was addicted to the vice of drunkenne&s;s.</P>
<P><PB N="75" REF="42">
<HI>Philip</HI> the Macedonian King being over-come with drink, pa&s;t &s;entence upon a wo|man: &s;he forthwith made her appeal; and being demanded to whom, replied, To <HI>Phi|lip</HI> being &s;ober. And without doubt, exce&s;s in drinking depraves the judgement of man; in&s;omuch, that Kings are made Slaves, old Folks become Children, Wi&s;e men are infatuated and made fools, and fools turned to mad men. But our Senator &s;hall ob&s;erve the old rule:
<Q>&mdash;<GAP DESC="foreign">.</Q>
A <HI>medium</HI> is to be ob&s;erved in all things: we mu&s;t eat and drink for nece&s;&s;ity, not &s;atiety; following the advice of the Poet <HI>Anachar&s;is,</HI> who u&s;ually &s;aid, The fir&s;t draught was of nece&s;&s;ity, the &s;econd of &s;u|perfluity, and the third of madne&s;s. Be|&s;ides, it were un&s;eemly in a Coun&s;ellor to have bloud-&s;hot eyes, a furious counte|nance, and a &s;tammering &s;peech; all which imperfections are the cu&s;tomary atten|dants of drunkenne&s;s: Nor will it become him, overcome with meat or drink, to &s;nore away the night, but only to u&s;e both with &s;o much moderation, as that they may only continue health, and make the body agile
<PB N="76" REF="43">
and fit for action. For, by moderate diet we find, not only the mind, but the body more &s;ubmi&s;&s;ive and obedient; when as &s;atiety and exce&s;s is the &s;epulchre of the one, and the corruption of the other. We find <HI>Troy</HI> to be ruinated through the exce&s;s of the Inhabitants; when as otherwi&s;e it might have &s;tood to this day:
<Q>Invadunt urbem &s;omno, vinoque &s;epul<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">am.</Q>
But, although we di&s;commend exce&s;s in both, as a thing misbecoming, and very hainous; yet our Senator mu&s;t be &s;ure not to be avaricious, niggardly, and clo&s;e|fi&s;ted, becau&s;e it is an argument of a ba&s;e &s;ervile &s;pirit, to debar him&s;elf of that com|line&s;s and order that is required in the Fa|mily of &s;uch a per&s;on. Therefore private exce&s;s mu&s;t be bani&s;hed, and publike mag|nificence maintained; and as needle&s;s and &s;uperfluous delicacy is to be avoyded much more than penury and niggardline&s;s; And, as immoderate expences are known to be prejudicial both to the E&s;tate, Body, and Mind: &s;o nece&s;&s;ary and convenient fare is both comly and whol&s;ome; and this mu&s;t be ob&s;erved with re&s;pect to the place, time and per&s;ons. For, we read, that
<PB N="77" REF="43">
<HI>L. Tubero</HI> making a publike Fea&s;t, covered all his beds with the skins of Kids; and in &s;o doing was judged indi&s;creet, and igno|rant in the knowledge of what appertained to publike honour and dignity; and for this &s;ame fact, lo&s;t the Office of Praetor. Notable was that quip that a Duke be|&s;towed upon a Prince, to this purpo&s;e; who with his noble retinue being invited to a Collation, the Prince altogether igno|rant of any mode u&s;ed at Court, or in|deed common civility, &s;uffered them to be &s;eated without cu&s;hions; which the Duke perceiving, put his Cloak under him in lieu thereof; and all his followers in imitati|on of him, did the &s;ame; and after their repa&s;t, left their Cloaks upon the &s;tools, and were departing: at which the Prince &s;omewhat amazed, told them, they forgot their cloaks: No, no, replied the Duke, an't plea&s;e your Maje&s;ty, it is not our cu|&s;tome to be &s;o uncivil, as to carry our Cu|&s;hions along with us: then did he begin to under&s;tand the mi&s;take, and went away a&s;hamed. Next to Temperance, Ju&s;tice is a Vertue to be very much followed by our Senator; of which in the next Chapter.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="5" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="78" REF="44">
<HEAD>CHAP. V.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Of Ju&s;tice and her concomitants, which our Senator ought to be adorned with.</HEAD>
<P>NAture hath made all things in them|&s;elves good, certain, perfect, and in all re&s;pects ab&s;olute; which was the rea|&s;on that induced the Stoick to believe, that to live according to Nature was the chief felicity of man: for, Nature is the Condu|ctrix &amp; Tutore&s;s of perfect life, in&s;tructing us in our obedience to the Author thereof. Now, this harmony of Nature may be fitly called Ju&s;tice; for, this is that Vertue (and indeed <HI>Regina Virtutum,</HI> the Queen of all Vertues) which labours in defence of the Law, and pre&s;ervation of the con&s;ent of Nature; &s;ince what&s;oever complies with Nature, is Ju&s;t; and what di&s;&s;enteth, un|ju&s;t. Such men therefore, that follow the dictates of Nature, are ju&s;t; being it is contrary to Nature to think ill either of God or Man. Whereupon Ju&s;tice is of three &s;orts, (though there be many &s;ubdi|vi&s;ions) Natural, Humane, and Di|vine.</P>
<P><PB N="79" REF="44">
The fir&s;t foundation of Ju&s;tice natural, proceeds from Nature her &s;elf; which in|formes us to do as we would be done by: <HI>Quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri ne feceris.</HI> This natural equity commandeth us to ab&s;tain from doing injury, or offending of any per|&s;on what&s;oever. And by this ligament, men are conglutinated or co-united with a mutual affection and bond of amity. In that Age, which is known by the name of <HI>Aetas aurea,</HI> among the Poets; by the help of natural Ju&s;tice only, deceit, fraud, or in|jury had no re&s;idence upon Earth; they were <HI>non-entia,</HI> no &s;uch things to be found in Nature. Then was there no &s;edition, tumults, or hatred; but benevolence, fideli|ty, true love, and real affection. The Law|yers Profe&s;&s;ion was not in u&s;e, pleading and wrangling was unknown to them; for, equity and Ju&s;tice determined all things, and all things were common; every man thought that his own goods did belong as much to his neighbour as to him&s;elf. They that lived in that Age were enforced and confined to vertue and hone&s;ty, becau&s;e they knew not vice, and by natural in&s;tinct were &s;timulated to the exerci&s;e of Ju&s;tice. Of this happy time <HI>Ovid</HI> &s;ings mo&s;t excel|lently.
<PB N="80" REF="45">
<Q><L>Aurea prima &s;ata e&s;t aetas, quae vindice nullo,</L>
<L>Sponte &s;u&acirc;, &s;ine lege, fidem rectumque colebat;</L>
<L>Poena, metu&s;que aberant, nec &s;upplex turba time|bat</L>
<L>Judicis ora&s;ui, &s;ed erant &s;ine judice tuti.</L></Q>
But, as &s;oon as the Sun of truth declined, and began to be ob&s;cured with the caligi|nous mi&s;ts of vice; immediately the minds of men were depraved, and they headlong without fear or wit implunged them&s;elves into an Ocean of filthine&s;s. Then every man &s;hielded him&s;elf again&s;t Vertue, quite contrary to his former principles; but af|terwards it was a practice among them, lawful, to &s;candalize and prejudice all per|&s;ons, whether in goods, or good name; to lead a bruti&s;h, inhumane life; abu&s;e that excellent gift of Rea&s;on, and employ it in the exerci&s;e of vice; as the &s;ame Poet hath it,
<Q><L>Protinus erupit venae pejoris in aevum</L>
<L>Omne nefas, fugere pudor, verumque, fide&s;que,</L>
<L>In quorum &s;ubiere locum, fraude&s;que, dolique,</L>
<L>In&s;idiaeque, &amp; vis, &amp; amor &s;celeratus habendi.</L></Q>
And &s;urely that deluge of impiety had over-run the whole race of mankind, had
<PB N="81" REF="45">
not the force of nature and rea&s;on in &s;ome few, oppo&s;ed, and &s;tood as a trench again&s;t the fury of this inundation. That &s;mall re&s;idue of men (proclaiming war again&s;t vice) did &s;o work upon them (that lived like brutes) by per&s;wa&s;ion, as to reduce them to humanity; informing them how to live, not only by words, but al&s;o by works; what Civility, Vertue, and Honour was, and what was the original of Laws in Cities and Countries: &s;o that hereby they might be in&s;tructed in tho&s;e things that were good, hone&s;t, and civill. From hence the precepts of vertue took their original, and va&s;t volumes of the duty and manners of men were compo&s;ed. This con&s;iderati|on of humane nature and the Univer&s;e, was epitomized in one word by the Gre|cians, <HI>viz.</HI> <GAP DESC="foreign">, or wi&s;dome; and the Au|thors thereof were termed <GAP DESC="foreign">, or Wi&s;e|men, who afterwards (according to the example of <HI>Pythagoras,)</HI> named them&s;elves Philo&s;ophers. And by this means the light of humane rea&s;on and nature, that was be|negroed with the clouds of vice, did rea&s;|&s;ume its pri&s;tine lu&s;tre and &s;plendor, and endowed us with the knowledge of divine and humane things; which knowledge is called Philo&s;ophy. Thus was that golden
<PB N="82" REF="46">
world re&s;tored. Now, that duty which natural Ju&s;tice prompts us to ob&s;erve to our Parents, is called Piety; which was the rea&s;on, that <HI>Aeneas</HI> by the <HI>Homer</HI> of our Latine Poets was &s;tyled Pious <HI>Aenaeas.</HI> The Daughter of <HI>Cimon</HI> was adorned with this Vertue; for &s;he fed her Father with her own milk, being condemned to die, and thereby did eternize her name. This Ju&s;tice doth al&s;o oblige us to nouri&s;h and cheri&s;h all per&s;ons in di&s;tre&s;s; defend and govern him&s;elf: for, he that by wilful ob|&s;tinacy de&s;troys him&s;elf by famine, negli|gence, or violent death, is judged an ene|my, and no friend to Nature. By this Ju|&s;tice natural, we are engaged to relieve and refre&s;h our nece&s;&s;itated friends and neigh|bours, and by generation to propagate po&s;terity; which is called <HI>nodo&s;a aeternitas:</HI> propagation is a knotty Eternity; for, by the i&s;&s;ue of our loyns we do as it were tye a knot, and thereby lengthen our name and family. <HI>Socrates</HI> defineth this natural Ju|&s;tice thus: It is the Science of good and evill according to nature; which that man that exerci&s;es, de&s;erves the term of a good man; and if he communicate it to others, the title of a good Citizen; becau&s;e then he is not only beneficial to him&s;elf, but to
<PB N="83" REF="46">
others al&s;o. They that Nature hath been &s;o prodigal unto, as to be&s;tow &s;ingular gifts, and incomparable endowments on, ought to tran&s;cen<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1+ letters"> all others in this natu|ral Ju&s;tice, as much as they do in their na|tural parts; otherwi&s;e they will have but a mean repute (if any at all) in the world.</P>
<P>The next is Ju&s;tice divine; whereby we are obliged and bound to acknowledge, love, honour, reverence, adore, and wor&s;hip God: And it hath plea&s;ed Nature to im|plant this knowledge in man; as if there|by &s;he would intimate unto us, that all other creatures do only feed and pamper their bodies, whenas Man &s;hould aime at a more noble marke, <HI>viz.</HI> the Deity. Nor is there any people upon earth but adore &s;ome God or other, and hold it a duty in|cumbent upon every one of them &s;o to do. Now all the &s;ub&s;tance and force of this Ju&s;tice is contained in Religion, which is the wor&s;hip of God. But being that is a different &s;ubject from what we intend to expatiate on, we &s;hall leave the pro&s;ecuti|on thereof to the Clergy.</P>
<P>Humane Ju&s;tice, which is al&s;o termed &s;ometimes civil, is of an ob&s;cure and hid|den nature; for, although it receive its
<PB N="84" REF="47">
being from Ju&s;tice natural, and therefore the precepts and u&s;e thereof carry little or no &s;eeming difficulty along with them: yet is it not truly conceived, unle&s;s it be by &s;uch who are either endued with a kind of divine nature, or have been employed in all &s;orts of vertue. For, this Vertue requireth a Learned, Wi&s;e man, who rea&s;onably, con&s;tantly and voluntarily practi&s;eth it. And &s;uch our Senator &s;hould be.</P>
<P>All civil Ju&s;tice con&s;i&s;ts, partly in the pre&s;ervation of humane &s;ociety, and is partly exerci&s;ed in a Court of Judicature. This Vertue approveth of no unlawful, cruel, or barbarous action; but embraceth hone&s;ty, tranquillity and peace; endeavou|ring to keep men from &s;edition, malice, and enmity; not coveting <HI>aliena bona;</HI> but, <HI>unicuique &s;uum tribuens;</HI> gives every one their due. By this Vertue our Coun&s;ellor becomes a defender of the common peo|ple; the Protector of the innocent and Orphans; and a deba&s;er of the proud and haught: a Lover of tho&s;e that are good, a friend to truth, and an enemy to vice, and con&s;equently to vicious per&s;ons. The foundation of this Vertue is fidelity; which <HI>Cicero</HI> defines to be a con&s;tant and true performer of promi&s;e. A ju&s;t Senator
<PB N="85" REF="47">
therefore affirms the truth, &s;ticks clo&s;e to his promi&s;e; &s;tandeth to compacts; re&s;to|reth what he borrows; and is not compel|led to be faithfull by Law, te&s;timony, or oath, but by his own free will and con&s;ci|ence; labouring to keep under inju&s;tice, and to &s;ee that the weaker &s;ort be not over-powred by the &s;tronger; that might over-come not right. Valiant men, in his judge|ment, de&s;erve to be crowned with reward; and idle, puny-&s;pirited &s;ubjects, the la&s;h of puni&s;hment; and by the&s;e two, puni&s;h|ment and preferment, the benefit of a Commonwealth is infinitely promoted. In the di&s;tribution of offices, he is directed by the rule of uprightne&s;s and equity; ha|ting to be greaz'd in the fi&s;t with bribery, reputing tho&s;e worthy of mo&s;t ample ho|nour, who can lay claim to the greate&s;t me|rit. Which is a thing to be very much in&s;i|&s;ted on in a Kingdom, or Republick; becau&s;e, <HI>Honos virtutes praemium,</HI> Honour is the re|ward of vertue; and as due to a de&s;erving per&s;on, as wages to an hired &s;ervant: which was the rea&s;on, that wrought the Antients to erect &s;tately Images, triumphal Arches; and publike &s;epulchres, open commenda|tion, and the like, were conferred on men of &s;ervice and de&s;ert. Now they that are
<PB N="86" REF="48">
nobly educated, vertuou&s;ly enclined, grave and ancient, de&s;erve honour and reverence; and that either by bowing the head or bo|dy, in giving them place: And, as goods are of three &s;orts, <HI>viz.</HI> goods of the mind, goods of the body, and goods of Fortune; &s;o they are all in conferring of honour to be re&s;pected. Therefore tho&s;e of the mind a&s;&s;ume the fir&s;t place; tho&s;e of the body the next, and tho&s;e of Fortune the la&s;t, as the meane&s;t in value and worth, though now adaies of mo&s;t e&s;teem in the eye of the World. All the&s;e things our Senator mu&s;t be skill'd in; and in the di&s;tribution of offi|ces, and conferring of honours, he mu&s;t ob|&s;erve equality, the balance of Ju&s;tice; wherewith every mans manners, vertues and actions are poized and examined. In which he mu&s;t be very circum&s;pect and un|bya&s;&s;ed, le&s;t he prove partial, leaning to one &s;ide more than another; and &s;o come off with the term of an unequal Judge. For, he that be&s;tows honour, and accumu|lates favours upon the unde&s;erving, doth a manife&s;t injury to tho&s;e that can plead de|&s;ert; and &s;o by con&s;equence is an unju&s;t Judge. Wherefore Philo&s;ophers give us a definition of this ju&s;tice, as followeth: It is an habit of the mind de&s;tined to com|mon
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utility; giving honour to every per|&s;on that may be judged worthy of it. And among tho&s;e vertues that plead for an inte|re&s;t in humane &s;ociety, equality is neither the la&s;t, nor the lea&s;t; &s;he exerci&s;ing the office of a Handmaid or Lady of honour to that Queen of Vertues, Ju&s;tice: Nor doth &s;he remove a hairs-breadth from her, but &s;ticks clo&s;e to her principles and precepts. Now this equality in ju&s;t pondering and weighing things, and per&s;ons, u&s;eth a dou|ble manner of proceeding; the one ordina|ry, and the other common; one judging by number, weight, and mea&s;ure; the other more difficile and &s;ecret, that is, weighing every thing by rea&s;on and judgement. Which knowledge is only attained by wi&s;e men, and tho&s;e that are exerci&s;ed in great affairs, and matters of importance and weight; and the other by tho&s;e that are chiefly employed in barrating, buying and &s;elling. Let our Senator be skill'd in that knowledge that proceeds from rea&s;on and judgement, that he may thereby un|der&s;tand how to di&s;tribute offices, confer honours, be&s;tow gifts, what is due to every per&s;on, ju&s;t, good, and indifferent in all things, per&s;ons, and places. This equality is an excellent qualification, and of emi|nent
<PB N="88" REF="49">
u&s;e and &s;ervice in a Kingdom. And where Coun&s;ellors are ignorant therein, we find but raw and weak con&s;ultation, and all things managed at randome, with|out any thing of certainty; to the di&s;tur|bance of publike &s;ociety.</P>
<P>Another kind of ju&s;tice there is, which is commonly called ju&s;tice forraign, not much unlike this before mentioned, chiefly conver&s;ant about judgement; who&s;e foun|dation is the Law, and who&s;e prop or &s;up|port is the judgement of wi&s;e, &s;olid, di&s;|creet Senators. Before &s;uch time (as is al|ready mentioned) that written Laws were found out, each man was his own Legi&s;la|tor, and pre&s;cribed his own peculiar Laws, not diving into the books of Law-makers or Doctors for precepts or in&s;tructions: For, then that pure and immaculate Vir|gin Ju&s;tice had her re&s;idence in the mind of man, dictating unto him Laws and Pre|cepts, whereby he led an upright life, without exerci&s;ing any fraud, deceit or collu&s;ion. But, as &s;oon as men, tired with the &s;trict di&s;cipline of ju&s;tice, began to co|vet their neighbours goods, offer injuries, and neglect the re&s;tauration of what they had taken no upon credit; immediately hate, di&s;&s;imulation, enmity and war &s;prung
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up, and gave way to the invention of mar|tial weapons, as well offen&s;ive as defen&s;ive; and that in &s;o furious a manner, as might force Ju&s;tice, nay, compel <HI>Jupiter</HI> him&s;elf to give place: thus, as &s;weet-tongued <HI>Ovid</HI> &s;ings,
<Q>&mdash;Terras A&s;traea reliquit.</Q>
She made her &s;elf wings, and flew to hea|ven for &s;anctuary, whereever &s;ince &s;he hath taken up her habitation. And hence it is that we have recour&s;e to heaven in our dayly Orizons for ju&s;tice. <HI>Homer</HI> u&s;ed to term Kings in&s;pired with the wi&s;dome of good Government, Sons of <HI>Jupiter:</HI> and we &s;tyle them, Gods Vicegerents. And &s;ince rea&s;on cannot prevail with us &s;o far, as thereby to lead a quiet, peaceable, and ju&s;t life; we mu&s;t have recour&s;e to ju&s;tice; who by her Laws admoni&s;heth, corrects, and honours us, preparing rewards for good, and &s;toring up puni&s;hments for evill actions. This ju&s;tice (according to <HI>Ulpia|nus)</HI> is a con&s;tant de&s;ire, or fixed re&s;olution to be&s;tow upon every man that which of right belongs unto him. Now the ordain|ing and enacting of Laws, appertains to a Coun&s;ellor, as the mo&s;t di&s;creet per&s;on, and
<PB N="90" REF="50">
fit for that office. And <HI>Plato</HI> teacheth, that the&s;e things are to be ob&s;erved in con&s;titu|ting Laws, Acts, or Ordinances. The Le|gi&s;lator mu&s;t enact them with a paternal love, that may cau&s;e a reciprocation of fili|al duty: not with a Lordly, tyrannical in|tent, yet framing them to the terror of ma|lefactors, who neither regard Law, nor rea|&s;on; according to that known Hexame|ter,
<Q>Sic volo, &s;ic jubeo; &s;tat pro ratione voluntas.</Q>
My will is the only Law that I own or acknowledge. Be&s;ides, he mu&s;t be &s;ure that his Laws contain no more pre&s;cripti|on of commands, than di&s;cipline of man|ners; that the &s;everity of the one may be mitigated by the gentlene&s;s of the other. And the intent and end of all Law is, that men may be felicitated thereby, as far as comes within the compa&s;s of humanity; and that offenders may receive a puni&s;h|ment &s;utable to their crimes, of nece&s;&s;ity, and not on &s;et purpo&s;e: which moved <HI>Ju|&s;tinian</HI> to make a triple divi&s;ion of legal precepts: To live hone&s;tly, prejudice no man, and give to every one his due. He therefore that doth abandon the Law, and
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follows the dictates of his own corrupt will, contemning the Statutes of a King|dom, is guilty of a notorious crime, as well as he that denies God, Nature, or Rea&s;on. <HI>Heraclitus,</HI> that &s;tream'd away his time in tears, was wont to &s;ay, That all men were as deeply engaged to defend their Laws, as the walls of their City; and his rea&s;on was, becau&s;e that a wall-le&s;s City might be pre&s;erved, but a Lawle&s;s one could ne|ver, by all the &s;trength of humane inventi|on. For by Laws they expel idlene&s;s, the mother of Vice, which renders the mind effeminate, and makes it grow wanton. <HI>Cato</HI> &s;aid as truly, as pithily, <HI>Nihil agendo, male agere didicerunt:</HI> By doing nothing, the people learn'd to do ill. <HI>Diodorus</HI> men|tions a certain Law that was among the Aegyptians, whereby every Subject was compelled to give in his name to the Magi|&s;trates, withall declaring what kind of life he mo&s;t affected, how he lived, and what Art he exerci&s;ed: And if he were found to give a fal&s;e account of his life, he was put to death. <HI>Draco</HI> &s;eeing the Citi|zens wa&s;teful, made a Law, that he that was found idle &s;hould be executed; which being too &s;evere and rigid, <HI>Solon</HI> did qua|lifie, puni&s;hing that offence with infamy
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only. By the imperial Law it is provided, that idle, &s;loathful, and thriftle&s;s Subjects be either whipt to death, or en&s;laved. In every Kingdom there are certain exerci&s;es both for peace and war: Some are bred up Clergy-men, Coun&s;ellors, and Judges; others, Captains, Commanders, and Soul|diers: that &s;o the Kingdom may be furni|&s;hed with Subjects in Peace or War, and by their actions the Country may be de|fended from the invading enemy, and her Territories or skirts enlarged. Nor mu&s;t Laws be often altered; for, as &s;oon as the people perceive any mutation, their minds being prone to innovation, they pre&s;ently de&s;ire all the re&s;t be changed and &s;ubver|ted; though &s;ometimes nece&s;&s;ity requires that they be corrected or reformed. The lea&s;t mutation in a Kingdom, is of dan|gerous con&s;equence, breeding a contempt of Laws, and &s;edition al&s;o. Wherefore the <HI>Locren&s;es</HI> had a Law, that if any man did invent a new Law, he &s;hould propo&s;e it to the people in publike, with a halter about his neck; to the end, that if it were judged pernicious or unprofitable, he &s;hould be forthwith hang'd, as an Author of evill. And it doth very much concern Princes and Coun&s;ellors to walk according to
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tho&s;e Laws they ordain; for it is odious to be <HI>Legi&s;lator; &amp; Legis violator;</HI> a Law-ma|ker, and a Law-breaker: for there is no|thing that Subjects &s;o much look upon, as the lives of their Superiors.
<Q>Regis ad exemplum totus componitor orbis.</Q>
All Nations, all the World over, follow the example of a King: which if he &s;teer his actions according to Ju&s;tice, finds Sub|jects obedient and loyal, who will keep clo&s;e to their allegeance. <HI>Seleucus</HI> made a Law, that who&s;oever was taken in adulte|ry &s;hould be deprived of both his eyes. Afterwards his Son was found guilty of that Crime: his Subjects went to mediate, de&s;iring him to &s;ign his pardon; but their &s;uit prevailed no otherwi&s;e, then that fir&s;t he cau&s;ed one of his Sons eyes to be put out, and then one of his own; that &s;o the &s;everity and reputation of Law might be ob&s;erved, and that the force thereof might be in more e&s;teem than the authori|ty of men. The ends why Laws were or|dained, were two: The one, that men may under&s;tand Ju&s;tice, and have entertainment among them; the other, that it may con|tinue. The fir&s;t, is the duty of the Law|maker,
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who frameth the people in the mould of Vertue. And the &s;econd is the Office of the Judge, who is to &s;uppre&s;s the exorbitancies of offenders, and pre&s;erve the rights and priviledges of his Country. Now it often falls out, that dubious bu&s;i|ne&s;&s;es, and tho&s;e matters of concernment too, are brought before a Judge; expecting his determination. Wherefore he mu&s;t re|duce that to equality, which he thinketh unequal: not unlike a line cut into unequal parts, and that part which is found too long is cut &s;horter, and &s;o added to the other: So doth the Judge, who is the Living Law and Oracle of the Kingdom. Nor mu&s;t he pa&s;s a &s;entence upon any matter, or de|cide any cau&s;e, before he hath heard both Plaintiff and Defendant, and examined all their Witne&s;&s;es: For, as <HI>Seneca</HI> hath it mo&s;t excellently,
<Q><L>Qui &s;tatuit aliquid parte inaudita altera;</L>
<L>Aequum licet &s;tatuerit, haud aequus fuerit.</L></Q>
He mu&s;t be voyd of all pa&s;&s;ion, hate, or partiality: one that &s;corns bribery, will not be daunted with menaces, or threatned out of the truth, or moved by the &s;ubtilty of adulation: for, where a Judge, Magi|&s;trate,
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or Senator is &s;ubject to pa&s;&s;ion, there is little, or indeed no Ju&s;tice in his Judica|ture: nor is there any one thing that poy|&s;ons a Commonwealth or Kingdom more, then corrupt and unju&s;t Magi&s;trates.</P>
<P>Ju&s;tice of old was by Philo&s;ophers pain|ted like a beautiful Virgin, having a &s;evere grave countenance, penetrating eyes, a cha&s;te look, inclining to gravity: which Image carries this repre&s;entation, that Judges ought to be incorrupt, cha&s;te, &s;e|vere, &s;harp-witted, good, grave, con&s;tant and inexorable. <HI>Camby&s;es,</HI> King of <HI>Per&s;ia,</HI> cau&s;ed the skin of an unju&s;t Judge to be flea'd, and hung up in the Court, as a terror to all tho&s;e that were unju&s;t in their &s;en|tence. <HI>Solon</HI> being demanded, How a King|dom might be&s;t be pre&s;erved; an&s;wered, By the Peoples obedience to Superiour au|thority, and the Magi&s;trates &s;ub&s;cription to the Law. And <HI>Bias</HI> u&s;ed to &s;ay, That place was mo&s;t &s;ecure, where men &s;tood in awe of the Law, no le&s;s than of a Tyrant. It is a &s;hame and reproach to a Nation to have Laws, that like the Spiders web, en|tangle the weak and &s;imple, and let the &s;trong and mighty e&s;cape. Which our Se|nator mu&s;t very diligently ob&s;erve, and continually provide that the Laws be pre|&s;erved inviolable.</P>
<P><PB N="96" REF="53">
Ju&s;tice admits of another divi&s;ion among Moral Philo&s;ophers, and that is Di|&s;tributive and Commutative. Ju&s;tice Di|&s;tributive, is that that re&s;pects equality in the di&s;tribution of reward or puni&s;hment, according to Geometrical proportion. For, as there are &s;everal degrees of crimes and offences perpetrated by the impious; &s;o there are likewi&s;e of the merits of de&s;erving and vertuous per&s;ons; In regard that the circum&s;tances of per&s;ons, places, and time, do oftentimes aggravate the crime. As for in&s;tance; He that offends a Magi&s;trate, de|&s;erves a higher puni&s;hment than he that offends a private per&s;on: And he that com|mits an in&s;olency in the Church during divine &s;ervice, or in Court before a Judge &s;itting upon the Bench, mu&s;t be more &s;e|verely corrected, than if the&s;e circum&s;tan|ces did not accompany the fault. And in like manner, the different conditions of men in the di&s;tribution of recompences, or conferring of honours, mu&s;t be narrowly con&s;idered and pried into.</P>
<P>Wherefore it is apparent, that in the di&s;tribution of honour, as well as in the inflicting of puni&s;hment, this Geometri|cal proportion mu&s;t be ob&s;erved; becau&s;e that by this means we ob&s;erve the &s;ame
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proportion between per&s;ons, as we do be|tween things; and though there be an in|equality of mea&s;ure, yet will there be an equality of rea&s;on. As thus: He that hath a double &s;hare of merit, twice as much as another man, de&s;erves a double recom|pence according to the Geometrical pro|portion, which differs from the Arithme|tical, ob&s;erved in Ju&s;tice Commutative: for the latter re&s;pects the equality of quan|tity, and things di&s;tributable, without re|gard to the merits or demerits of a per|&s;on.</P>
<P>Ju&s;tice Commutative is that that looks upon equality and faith in contracts, bar|gains, humane commerces and negotiati|ons; as buying, &s;elling, borrowing, and the like. As for example; the &s;ame &s;ort of wine, oyl, corn, cloath, or other vendible commodities, is &s;old to a Magi&s;trate as well as to a Mechanick. But now let us come to her Concomitants.</P>
<P>And fir&s;t of Piety; by which we plea&s;e God, and get repute among men. <HI>Numa Pompilius,</HI> to get credit by the Religion that he framed for the Romans (counterfeiting Piety) induced them to believe that he and his Wife <HI>Aegeria</HI> u&s;ed to convene with the Gods in a certain place con&s;ecrated to
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<HI>Camena,</HI> and there did receive the Laws and Religion the Romans were to follow: &s;o that they that neither by the &s;oftne&s;s of per&s;wa&s;ion, nor the violence of compul&s;i|on could be reduced to Religion; by a counterfeit colour of Piety were brought to be very religious. And if &s;o among them, how will the true Religion prevail among us that are Chri&s;tians? Yet in Re|ligion two things are to be declined, <HI>viz.</HI> here&s;ie and &s;uper&s;tition; which vices per|vert weak in&s;table per&s;ons. There is like|wi&s;e a certain kind of Piety due to Pa|rents, by which we obey, reverence, and re&s;pect them.</P>
<P>Innocency is another of her A&s;&s;ociates; which Vertue affects &s;implicity, abhor|ring di&s;&s;imulation and hypocri&s;ie; where|fore, fawning Sycophants, that Dog-like will <GAP DESC="foreign">, fall down under your feet, and &s;eem to adore you; Di&s;&s;emblers, that hold with the hare, and run with the hound; carry fire in one hand, and water in the other; and tale-bearers, that are <HI>ri|marum pleni,</HI> full of chincks, no &s;ooner a &s;ecret can be committed to their keeping, but it drops from them like water through a &s;ieve; &s;uch per&s;ons are to have no place in the Catalogue of our Senators. And as
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no man might have admittance into the Temple of <HI>Ceres Elucina,</HI> but he that was innocent; there being this Super&s;cription over the Portal, <HI>Let no man enter but he that knoweth his own innocency:</HI> So into holy Council, which is the Temple of Ju&s;tice and Truth, let no man have admittance, but he that is innocent, and of integrity. His mind mu&s;t be open and &s;incere, not ob&s;cure or deceitful, &s;aying one thing, and meaning another; his thoughts and his words mu&s;t be Relatives; his tongue mu&s;t be the true interpreter of his mind; and his face not &s;hrowded with a fained di&s;|gui&s;e, but full of natural &s;incerity.</P>
<P>Courteous he mu&s;t be; for an affable debonaire di&s;po&s;ition will &s;crue it &s;elf into the good will of all men. He mu&s;t hear with patience, and reply with di&s;cretion; free from all &s;owerne&s;s and in&s;olency in words or action.</P>
<P>Benignity is another thing nece&s;&s;ary; for as God is kind and gentle to us, &s;o mu&s;t we manife&s;t our &s;elves to tho&s;e that are a &s;phere below us. He mu&s;t therefore be gentle, mild, and of a &s;weet di&s;po&s;ition: not au&s;tere, &s;upercilious; and as <HI>Timon</HI> was, <GAP DESC="foreign">, A man-hater. For as to the Moderator of all things, Religion and Piety
<PB N="100" REF="55">
is due; &s;o is love and benevolence unto men.</P>
<P>Next, Clemency; which properly ap|pertains to Magi&s;trates, and men in autho|rity; for by vertue hereof, the heat of their di&s;plea&s;ure towards Malefactors is abated, and they them&s;elves qualified. Her oppo&s;ite is Cruelty, and bitter ex|tremity in puni&s;hment; a quality pro|per to Tyrannical and inhumane per&s;ons. <HI>Draco</HI> was &s;o rigid and &s;evere, nay (I may &s;ay) cruel, that he inflicted death upon idle per&s;ons, as well as Murderers; and being askt the rea&s;on, replied, becau&s;e he thought that puni&s;hment due for the com|mi&s;&s;ion of a petty offence; and for tho&s;e of a higher nature, he could not invent any great enough. But <HI>Scipio</HI> much more cle|ment and pitiful, could &s;ay, That he had rather be in&s;trumental to the &s;aving of the life of one &s;ingle Citizen, than to the &s;laughter of 1000 Enemies. And indeed for a Magi&s;trate to be perpetually puni|&s;hing, is as reproachful, as to &s;ee Phy&s;icians alwaies killing their Patients with their Quack&s;alving and Emperical tricks. Be|&s;ides, Clemency in a Governour creates a kind of ba&s;hfulne&s;s or fear of offending in any per&s;on. Yet Clemency mu&s;t be &s;o u&s;ed, as that &s;everity, if need be, mu&s;t not be al|together
<PB N="101" REF="55">
neglected: for no Country can be well governed without it, by rea&s;on of the different di&s;po&s;itions of men; for a har&s;h word &s;trikes deeper with &s;ome, than a &s;hrewd puni&s;hment with others. Over-much clemency was an imperfection that the Stoicks would have all wi&s;e men to want; alledging, that it was an argument of an ignoble mind, conde&s;cending and &s;ub&s;cribing to the guilt of other mens crimes and offences: and therefore &s;uch men may be a&s;&s;imilated to fond fooli&s;h women, that would have Malefactors freed from the la&s;h and rigour of the Law, becau&s;e Crocodile-like, after the commi&s;|&s;ion of an hainous offence, they can drop a deceitful tear.</P>
<P>Next, Liberality. Among &s;ome of tho&s;e Vertues that were con&s;tellated in <HI>Scipio Africanus,</HI> this is not the lea&s;t; that before his return from any place, he obliged &s;ome per&s;on or other to him by his liberality.</P>
<P>The Son of <HI>Titus Ve&s;patianus</HI> was wont to &s;ay, That that day wherein he had not be|&s;towed &s;ome benefit, was utterly lo&s;t. Now in giving, the&s;e two things are ob&s;ervable; to forget the benefits we be&s;tow, and re|member perfectly what we have received: for ingratitude is a black crime; <HI>In|gratum</HI>
<PB N="102" REF="56">
<HI>dixeris, &amp; omnia dixeris;</HI> Name but Ingratitude, and you epitomize all crimes in a word.</P>
<P>Magnificence is the next concomitant of Ju&s;tice; which Vertue con&s;i&s;teth in large expences, and great gifts; differing from Liberality in this only, that the one is em|ployed in &s;mall and mean, the other in large gifts. Now it is ob&s;ervable, that Magnificent men u&s;ually erect Churches, build Cities, Towns, and Villages, and em|ploy them&s;elves about &s;uch things as may either redound to the glory of the Creator, or el&s;e augment the fame of the Author. And though Parcimony be judged a noble revenue, yet mu&s;t not our Senator be &s;o pe|nurious, as altogether to forget liberality, or Magnificence; and &s;o degenerate into Co|vetou&s;ne&s;s, which is a malady incurable: which as <HI>Salust</HI> hath it, doth effeminate both body and mind: Delighting it &s;elf in two things, giving nothing, and receiving much: and yet exce&s;s mu&s;t be avoided; &s;o that the middle way is be&s;t. The advice of <HI>Apollo</HI> to his un&s;atisfied Son <HI>Phaeton</HI> is very good,
<Q>&mdash;Medio tuti&s;simus ibis.</Q>
<PB N="103" REF="56">
Therefore that no man might exceed a be|coming moderation in expences, it was provided by a Law at <HI>Rome,</HI> that no Sena|tor &s;hould be indebted above a certain &s;um of money pre&s;cribed. Which order was taken, to remove exce&s;s and &s;uperflui|ty in expences. <HI>P. Rufinus</HI> was depo&s;ed by the Cen&s;ors for having 10 <HI>l.</HI> weight in Silver. And <HI>Aemilius Lepidus</HI> having &s;pent 6000 <HI>l.</HI> in building a hou&s;e, was deve&s;ted of his Senator&s;hip. So &s;trict were the an|cient Romans, le&s;t the Senators exce&s;s &s;hould move the Plebeians to the &s;ame &s;u|perfluity. Yet we allow a Senator far more liberty than &s;o; for, our Laws do not &s;o narrowly confine them.</P>
<P>Next, Friend&s;hip; which is ab&s;olutely nece&s;&s;ary: for, &s;ince man is a civil per&s;on, and a lover of &s;ociety, he cannot be de&s;ti|tute of other mens conver&s;ation; from hence, as from a &s;ource or foundation, all amity, marriage, or con&s;anguinity doth flow: And he that endeavours to deprive a Kingdom of united friend&s;hip, doth in a manner &s;natch the Sun out of the firma|ment. Friend&s;hip is of an uniting or con|gregating quality; for as cold congeals a multitude of waters into one cake of Ice, &s;o Friend&s;hip makes of many one; which is
<PB N="104" REF="57">
by <HI>Laelius</HI> defined to be a perfect con&s;ent of things divine and humane, in all love, charity, and affection. Yet are we not to entertain any per&s;on at the fir&s;t &s;ight <HI>(pri|ma facie,</HI> as we &s;ay) as a friend; we mu&s;t fir&s;t, according to our Proverb, eat a bu|&s;hel of &s;alt with them, that &s;o we may dive into their di&s;po&s;ition, and know what metal they are made of. It is the opinion of the Philo&s;ophical Tribe, that that ami|ty is mo&s;t &s;ure, and be&s;t grounded, that is nouri&s;hed by &s;imilitude of temper; for where mans delight is one and the &s;ame, his affection cannot be divers. Such friends were <HI>Achilles</HI> and <HI>Patroclus; Ore&s;tes</HI> and <HI>Pi|lades; Damon</HI> and <HI>Pythias,</HI> with many more that might be mentioned. The friend&s;hip of the two la&s;t was &s;o great, that <HI>Diony&s;ius</HI> did earne&s;tly de&s;ire to make a third per&s;on, that &s;o there might be a Trinity of friends linked together with the ligament of love. Few friends are be&s;t; and the rea&s;on is, be|cau&s;e perfect friend&s;hip is incon&s;i&s;tent with multiplicity of per&s;ons: and indeed they that delight to a&s;&s;ociate them&s;elves with many, are not accounted friends, but &s;ociable; for it is one thing to be a lover of conver&s;ation, and courteous in the enter|tainment of all per&s;ons; and another thing
<PB N="105" REF="57">
to be a friend to one whom we make a con|&s;tant companion, one who is the Manu|&s;cript wherein we write all our &s;ecrets. <HI>Epaminondas</HI> was heard to u&s;e this expre&s;&s;i|on frequently, That a man &s;hould not leave the Court till he made an addition to the number of his old friends by gaining of a new one; but this ob&s;ervation tends more to the obtaining of the common good will of men, than perfect friend&s;hip. Now true friend&s;hip requires three things.</P>
<P>Fir&s;t, Vertue, from which we mu&s;t never &s;werve; Next, Plea&s;ure, which proceeds from familiarity and &s;weet conver&s;ation, &s;tealing away the tediou&s;ne&s;s of melancho|ly hours. For, <HI>amici fures temporis.</HI> And la&s;tly, Profit; whereby one real friend may accommodate another with nece&s;|&s;aries, when &s;timulated by that Tyrant nece&s;&s;ity. Though it be the cu&s;tome of the World to fawn upon a per&s;on that a|bounds with the affluence of all terrene comforts, and hath high and mountain'd fortunes; but when he is at a low ebb, then they u&s;ually for&s;ake him with a <HI>Benedicite,</HI> or God help you. Nor can you try a real friend better, than in the kick of malignant chance: Then, if he de&s;erves that name, he will &s;tick clo&s;e to you; if not, &s;coff
<PB N="106" REF="58">
at your meanne&s;s. Well might the Satyri&s;t &s;ay,
<Q><L>Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in&s;e,</L>
<L>Quam quod ridiculos homines facit.&mdash;</L></Q>
As if the Poor man were but fortunes Dwarf, (&s;aith one excellently) made low|er than the re&s;t of men, to be laugh'd at. Yet, if any thing that is unju&s;t be reque|&s;ted by one friend of another, it is his du|ty to di&s;&s;wade, rather than encourage him. <HI>Pericles</HI> being de&s;ired by a friend to a&s;&s;i&s;t him by bearing fal&s;e witne&s;s; replied like a Chri&s;tian more than a Pagan, <HI>Tuus &s;um u&s;que ad aras;</HI> I am yours to do you any courte&s;ie that comes within the limits of my power, as far as Religion gives me leave: intimating thereby, that he would aid his friend &s;o far as ju&s;tice, equity, or divinity would permit, and no farther. Now by the concatenation of amity, and co-union of Senators, the Kingdom is as it were linked together, and &s;o &s;trengthned. Whenas, who can expect concord or mu|tual love between Subjects, when Magi|&s;trates are di&s;agreeing and at variance? <HI>Ari&s;tides</HI> and <HI>Themi&s;tocles</HI> were enemies, yet when&s;oever they went out on publike
<PB N="107" REF="58">
Emba&s;&s;age or Commi&s;&s;ion, being arrived at the borders of the Athenian Land, there they laid down all contention and former enmity; though after their return home they did often renew their old grudge and di&s;plea&s;ure. To forget injuries received, is a noble part, and an argument of a royal &s;pirit.</P>
<P>Out of Friend&s;hip ari&s;eth Concord, which is nothing but civil amity: and a con&s;piracy or plot among all degrees of men to maintain Liberty, Law, Ju&s;tice, Fideli|ty, Religion and Quietne&s;s in a Kingdom. Wherefore the Senate of <HI>Rome</HI> did u&s;ual|ly &s;it in the Hou&s;e of Concord, to demon|&s;trate thereby, that in Council nothing &s;hould pa&s;s contentiou&s;ly. <HI>Age&s;ilaus,</HI> King of <HI>Lacedaemonia,</HI> being asked why <HI>Sparta</HI> was not environed with walls; informed the Que&s;tioni&s;t, that the Citizens lived united; and &s;hewing him the men, &s;aid, Behold the walls of <HI>Sparta. Scilurus</HI> ble&s;t with a numerous off-&s;pring, four&s;core Sons, before he expired, produced a bundle of arrows, and bid them break them all at once: they replied, It was ab&s;olutely im|po&s;&s;ible: then took he the arrows from them one by one, and &s;o brake them all; thereby exhorting his Children to live in
<PB N="108" REF="59">
concord, for &s;o they might be invincible and happy; whenas otherwi&s;e they would be ruinated and di&s;per&s;ed.</P>
<P>In like manner <HI>Mycyp&s;a,</HI> King of <HI>Numi|dia,</HI> being on his death-bed, a&s;&s;embled all his Children, and left them this golden Sentence as a Legacy: <HI>By concord the &s;mal|le&s;t incon&s;iderable things encrea&s;e; but the grea|te&s;t and mo&s;t con&s;iderable by di&s;cord come to con|fu&s;ion.</HI></P>
<P>Ho&s;pitality is a companion to Friend|&s;hip and Concord, which entertains &s;tran|gers as well as friends, with courte&s;ie and affability; which Vertue redounds very much to a mans credit and reputation. The priviledges belonging thereunto are &s;o con&s;iderable, that the Romans ob&s;erved the performance of the rights thereof even to their very enemies; and would never joyn in battel with them, till &s;uch time as the Pri&s;oners to whom they were indebted for food, were manumitted. <HI>Plato</HI> under|&s;tanding that it was impo&s;&s;ible to reduce his Commonwealth to a happy condition by any other way but amity, concord, or ho&s;pitality; brought down all Laws and Cu&s;toms to friend&s;hip, making all things common, that &s;o mutual &s;ociety and love might be con&s;erved; affirming withal,
<PB N="109" REF="59">
that that brace of words, <HI>Meum</HI> and <HI>tuum,</HI> were like a pair of Engines framed on pur|po&s;e to unhinge the whole World.</P>
<P>Now, &s;ince it is manife&s;t, that man, whil&s;t he lives, floats in a turbulent Sea of vexations and misfortunes, &s;ubject to perils as con&s;iderable for their number as their weight; and that we mu&s;t overcome them by patient &s;uffering, or manfully revenge them; we mu&s;t next di&s;cour&s;e of Fortitude, which is able to &s;upply us with weapons to defend us again&s;t the a&s;&s;aults of the mind and fortune. A Life free from the inter|mixture of di&s;content, is aimed at by all, but impo&s;&s;ible to be obtained by any: for Nature hath &s;o ordained it, that care, trou|ble and mole&s;tation is interwoven with the web of our life; &s;o that as our more gro&s;s part, the body, is burthened with labour and toyl; &s;o our more &s;piritual part, the mind, is di&s;quieted with di&s;contented imaginations. Nor indeed can we tell how to relli&s;h Vertue, unle&s;s we fir&s;t ta&s;te of di&s;content; for, the clouds of &s;orrow being overblown (like re&s;t after labour) the fruit of felicity is much more delight|ful and plea&s;ing. Vertue is not a Lady that loves to &s;mother her &s;elf in down, and lie at her ea&s;e;
<PB N="110" REF="60">
<Q>&mdash;Petit ardua virtus:</Q>
But &s;he affects indu&s;try, triumphing in the mid&s;t of mo&s;t imminent danger: which made <HI>Hercules</HI> for&s;ake the path of plea&s;ure, becau&s;e it was wide, broad, and ea&s;ie to be traced; and turn into the way of Vertue, whereunto the pa&s;&s;age is hard, and the a&s;cent difficult. Nor mu&s;t we only de&s;pi&s;e all labours and difficulty in a&s;cending the Pyramid of Vertue; but when we are po&s;|&s;e&s;&s;ed therewith, we mu&s;t with far more courage and magnanimity endure all cala|mities, &s;orrows and afflictions. Now there is no misfortune, how great &s;oever, but &s;he can with&s;tand, and with her own power overcome. This excellency of mind is cal|led Fortitude, an affection that &s;ubmits to Vertue by con&s;tant and patient &s;uffering. The nature and &s;ub&s;tance of Prudence, Ju|&s;tice, and Temperance, is &s;oft and effemi|nate without Fortitude: for it is their pro|perty to think and act only; but the quali|ty of this Vertue is to think and execute con&s;tantly, manfully, and valiantly. All commendation due to Fortitude, con&s;i&s;teth in Dome&s;tical, and Publike or Military actions. Dome&s;tical Fortitude adorns a
<PB N="111" REF="60">
Man; and her quality is to remove all per|turbation of mind, Fear, Sorrow, Anger, Voluptuou&s;ne&s;s, and every other exorbi|tant affection. Fortitude Military con&s;i&s;ts in undergoing all perils and dangers, all labour and hard&s;hip, that &s;o a man may be able to look death in the face, if his country or a good cau&s;e require it. He mu&s;t look to lie &s;ometimes at the &s;igne of the Star, and have his bed feathered with the down of Heaven; lie down a Man, and ri&s;e a Snow|ball; gnaw Match, in&s;tead of Liquori&s;h; He mu&s;t fear nothing; contemn all world|ly things, and be re&s;olved to &s;uffer what&s;o|ever can befall him.</P>
<P>Moreover, it is the duty of our Senator to be &s;o couragiou&s;ly affected and di&s;po|&s;ed, that all his gifts of body and mind be as with a certain &s;auce &s;ea&s;oned with Forti|tude; for, as without &s;alt all meats, &s;o all Vertues without Fortitude are judged un|&s;avoury. This is that which defendeth both body and mind from the cruel &s;hock of misfortune. This is that which renders us quiet and peaceable in Prudence, con|&s;tant in Temperance, and &s;tout, valiant and invincible in Ju&s;tice. Yet is there &s;ome|thing to be declined in this Vertue; as be|ing fool-hardy, proud, ra&s;h, timerous, &s;loath|ful,
<PB N="112" REF="61">
or puny-&s;pirited; For, he that intends to gain the reputation of valiant, mu&s;t be pricked forward by no other &s;pur than Glory, Renown, or Vertue;
<Q>&mdash;Immen&s;em gloria calcar habet.</Q>
He mu&s;t follow the conduct of no other Captain but Rea&s;on, and not be led up by Chance, Hazard, or De&s;peration; alledg|ing that ra&s;h piece of Poetical fury for his excu&s;e,
<Q>Una &s;alus victis nullam &s;perare &s;alutem.</Q></P>
<P>The People of <HI>Numantia</HI> cho&s;e rather to be ma&s;&s;acred, than yield to the merciful enemy; and the Saguntines were guided by the &s;ame Precepts: but we mu&s;t never act any thing de&s;perately. Well might that Roman <HI>Demo&s;thenes Cicero</HI> &s;ay, <HI>Inju&s;ti&s;|&s;imam pacem bello ju&s;ti&s;simo antefero;</HI> I prefer the mo&s;t unju&s;t Peace before the mo&s;t ju&s;t War. Now he that de&s;pairs, flees from Fortitude; and it is an argument of a dunghil-&s;pirit, to &s;eek death by &s;hewing the heel through fear and pu&s;illanimity. But a valiant man de&s;pi&s;eth life judiciou&s;|ly, fighteth &s;toutly; not as one de&s;titute of
<PB N="113" REF="61">
all hope; but, becau&s;e he is grounded on this per&s;wa&s;ion, that it becomes him &s;o to deport him&s;elf: which moves him rather to choo&s;e an honourable death, than blur his life with the &s;tain of reproach. This Vertue hath many Concomitants, which with &s;ome other qualifications &s;hall be the &s;ubject of the en&s;uing Chapter.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="6" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. VI.</HEAD>
<HEAD><HI>Of Fortitude and her Concomitants, as Mag|nanimity, Con&s;tancy, Patience, Confi|dence,</HI> &amp;c.</HEAD>
<P>THis Vertue, as is before mentioned, wants not her retinue of other Ver|tues. And fir&s;t, Magnanimity, which makes a man a&s;pire to honour and dignity; and yet by the help of vertue, imitating <HI>Mar|cellus,</HI> who con&s;ecrated a Temple to Ho|nour our of the &s;poyls of <HI>Syracu&s;a,</HI> making the acce&s;s thereunto through the Hou&s;e of Vertue near adjoyning; per&s;wading him|&s;elf, that there was no po&s;&s;ible way of catching at honour, to a mans credit and reputation, but by the aid and a&s;&s;i&s;tance of Vertue. This will &s;upport him, as blad|ders
<PB N="114" REF="62">
do a young &s;wimmer, from being implunged into de&s;pair when he floats up|on the waters of affliction. The fame of <HI>Codrus</HI> &s;hall live till the conflagration of the World, who for the pre&s;ervation of his Souldiers and Country, offered up him&s;elf a &s;acrifice. <HI>Curtius</HI> and <HI>Scaevola</HI> are immor|tal; the one, becau&s;e he ca&s;t him&s;elf into a mercile&s;s gulph, to cure <HI>Rome</HI> of the infecti|ous Plague; the other, for burning his own hand, to make his enemies &s;en&s;ible that no torture &s;hould deter Romans from pro&s;e|cuting the defence of their Liberty. He|roick actions embalm the memories of Magnanimous &s;pirits, and pre&s;erve them &s;weet and fre&s;h, maugre the malignity of fickle Fortune, or the &s;ucce&s;&s;ion of Ages. There is no Chronicle nor Hi&s;tory in which they &s;hall not have a place, and be honourably mentioned and regi&s;tred, for Po&s;terity to imitate.</P>
<P>Be&s;ides, our Senator mu&s;t be&s;tow gifts voluntarily and liberally, and receive them with a mode&s;t blu&s;h, and a kind of unwil|ling willingne&s;s, following the coun&s;el of <HI>He&s;iod,</HI> who teacheth, that a good turn re|ceived &s;hould be returned with Intere&s;t; for the Recipient is inferiour to the Donor. <HI>Taxilis,</HI> an Indian King, meeting with
<PB N="115" REF="62">
<HI>Alexander</HI> the Great (as <HI>Plutarch</HI> informs us) acco&s;ted him in this manner: <HI>Noble Monarch, I challenge you, not to war, or duel; but to another kind of combat: if you be our In|feriour, receive a benefit; if our Superiour, be&s;tow one on us.</HI> To whom <HI>Alexander</HI> re|plied, as the Story farther informs us, <HI>This contention is laudable, and &s;uits with Our Dig|nity; for we &s;hould endeavour to exceed one ano|ther in well doing:</HI> and clo&s;ed the&s;e words with an embrace; &s;uffering him to enjoy his Kingdom, with additions. Among tho&s;e of the more noble extract, let him behave him&s;elf with a well-bala&s;ted de|portment, and be the di&s;creet Herald of his own prai&s;e; but among tho&s;e of the infe|riour allay (the vulgar I mean) he mu&s;t ab&s;tain from &s;o doing, becau&s;e of the con|trary effects: for in the one, it attracts love; in the other, it cau&s;eth hatred.</P>
<P>Next, it behoveth our Senator in all &s;uc|ce&s;&s;es and events to be con&s;tant and un|moved; and not like <HI>Proteus,</HI> capable of re|ceiving all &s;hapes. The con&s;tancy of <HI>Ari|&s;tides</HI> de&s;erves no mean commendation, con&s;idered as he was a Heathen; for <HI>Dio|ny&s;ius</HI> the Tyrant, demanding his Daugh|ter in marriage, he retorted, That he had rather &s;ee her wedded to her Grave, than
<PB N="116" REF="63">
to a Tyrant: and having &s;lain her, he was re-demanded, whether he had changed his opinion; he replied, He was &s;orry for the fact, but glad that he had &s;o expre&s;t him|&s;elf. Who can but admire the con&s;tancy of <HI>Cato?</HI> Who, if we may relie upon the Records of the Ancients, was ever ob&s;er|ved to keep the &s;ame countenance, as well when he was repul&s;ed and accu&s;ed, as when he was Praetor: being &s;till immuta|ble in Coun&s;el, War, at the time of his Death, and when that pannick fear ague|&s;hook his whole Country; <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> being victorious, and as a Tyrant u&s;urping the Government of the Republick. <HI>Xantippe,</HI> who was the <HI>Billing&s;gate</HI> Wife of <HI>Socrates,</HI> the wife Philo&s;opher (if a modern title may be applied to an ancient &s;cold) could utter this to his eternal honour, that &s;he alwaies ob&s;erved he went out and returned with the &s;ame countenance; for indeed, he was &s;o rarely qualified, that no violent or impetuous gu&s;ts of adver&s;ity could &s;hake him out of his con&s;tant com|po&s;ed temper. Merit will be crowned with her de&s;erved bayes, <HI>Velit nolit invidiae,</HI> in &s;pight of fate; or el&s;e her very enemies will lend a helping hand. It becomes him therefore to be a fixed &s;tar, no Planet, in
<PB N="117" REF="63">
his own Sphere; like <HI>Regulu<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">,</HI> who rather than the Captives &s;hould be re&s;tored, de|livered him&s;elf into the hands of the <HI>Car|thaginians.</HI> It is reported, that when <HI>Nico|rontos,</HI> the Tyrant of <HI>Cyprus,</HI> had vanqui&s;hed <HI>Anaxarchus;</HI> he told him, he might <HI>proli|bitu,</HI> as he plea&s;ed, torment and wrack his body, but he could never prejudice the con|&s;tancy of his mind; that would be &s;till in|violable. Yet he mu&s;t be wary that his con&s;tancy extend only to ju&s;t cau&s;es and ends; for to defend any conceit by &s;trength of &s;ophi&s;tical di&s;&s;ertations, again&s;t the opinion of wi&s;e men, is an argument of a perver&s;e and ob&s;tinate, no con&s;tant di&s;po|&s;ition: For in vain were all our con&s;ulta|tions, if like the River <HI>Euripus,</HI> they ebb and flow at no certainty. In Council, as he mu&s;t be active, &s;o like a &s;tone he mu&s;t be mute, and not divulgive, becau&s;e there pa&s;s many things in con&s;ultations which are to be communicated neither to &s;trangers, nor dome&s;tical friends; and it is the property of a light and un&s;ettled head, to blab all my&s;teries &s;poken in Council: as if they could receive nothing, but like &s;queami&s;h &s;tomachs they mu&s;t immediate|ly ca&s;t it up. The Romans would not ad|mit the Senators <HI>Pedarii,</HI> when they had any weighty matter in hand, nor any of
<PB N="118" REF="64">
the Clerks to be pre&s;ent; but they them|&s;elves debated it. At fir&s;t, indeed, the Se|nate-hou&s;e was open to all young men, that were de&s;cended of the <HI>Patricii;</HI> till after that noble and memorable part acted by <HI>Papyrius,</HI> they were forbidden; le&s;t through the un&s;etledne&s;s of greener heads, the &s;e|crets of State &s;hould be divulged, and the Republick thereby damnified: who being one day que&s;tioned by his Mother, what matter was &s;o long in debate among them, and compelled to give &s;ome an&s;wer; re|plied merrily, Whether it were more ad|vantagious to the Common-wealth, that one man &s;hould have two Wives, or one woman have two Husbands: and &s;o by di&s;&s;embling the truth, came off hand&s;ome|ly, &s;atisfying his Mother without prejudice to the Senate or the Commonwealth.</P>
<P>The next Concomitant of Fortitude is Patience, which (according to <HI>Tully)</HI> is a voluntary and continual enduring of ad|ver&s;e fortune, either for credit or commo|dity; which are the two Poles about which the World moves; and the u&s;e hereof is in war greate&s;t. For they that are Men of war, Souldiers, adventure their lives for their Country, and undergo all perils and dangers what&s;oever, with a patient,
<PB N="119" REF="64">
re&s;olute, and undaunted mind.</P>
<P>If <HI>Coriolanus</HI> had taken it patiently when he had a repul&s;e for a&s;piring to the Con|&s;ul&s;hip, he had manife&s;ted him&s;elf di&s;creet, and his life had not been attended by &s;o many di&s;a&s;ters. Patience is the <HI>Panacea</HI> of all griefs: &s;or things pa&s;t that are irrecove|rable, may be endured, though not amen|ded. He that cannot undergo the bitter chance of misfortune, is but a bearded wo|man: yet in the exerci&s;e of patience, we mu&s;t be very circum&s;pect that the multi|tude and greatne&s;s, the quantity and qua|lity of injuries do not di&s;compo&s;e us: for, <HI>Lae&s;a patientia fit furor;</HI> Patience abu&s;ed is turned into fury.</P>
<P>Confidence is another of Fortitudes A&s;&s;ociates, which is a certain conceit or a&s;&s;urance of mind that we &s;hall have fu|ture &s;ucce&s;s; encouraging, and fetting us forward to the atchievement of noble and heroick performances. He that is confi|dent, is a perfect &s;tranger to cowardly fear. It is &s;toried of <HI>Julius Cae&s;ar,</HI> that &s;eeing <HI>Caius Crastinus</HI> prepared for the Phar&s;alick war with hope of &s;ucce&s;s, asked him what he thought would be the event of the battel: whereunto <HI>Cra&s;tinus</HI> (holding up his hand armed) an&s;wered, <HI>Cae&s;ar, thou &s;halt be</HI>
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<HI>victorious, and have cau&s;e to commend me dead or alive:</HI> which accordingly fell out, and he was &s;lain in the skirmi&s;h; whereupon <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> a&s;&s;embled his Army, and made an Oration in his prai&s;e. <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> affirms, that men, according to the &s;ucce&s;s they have already had, judge of the future in their proceedings. <HI>Plutarch</HI> reports, that <HI>Antonius</HI> was alwaies accompanied with an Egyptian Philo&s;opher, who, by the cal|culation of mens looks, would give a &s;hrewd gue&s;s at their di&s;po&s;ition, fortune, and de&s;tiny: He did very much expatiate upon the felicity of <HI>Antonius,</HI> but more upon that of <HI>Octavius;</HI> &s;aying, That the Ge|nius that waited on <HI>Octavius</HI> was more powerful than that that attended <HI>Antonius;</HI> which he conceived, becau&s;e in gaming, Cock, or Quail-fighting, he had the bet|ter hap, and was mo&s;t fortunate; be&s;ides other conjectures. It is thought, nay, main|tained, that every King, Prince, and Per&s;on hath a certain Guardian Angel; which Spirits are by <HI>Homer</HI> and <HI>Plato</HI> called <HI>Genii;</HI> and by others <HI>Lares, Daemones, Lemures;</HI> and by us, <HI>Angeli:</HI> which, as they affirm, a&s;&s;i&s;t them in battel, and inform them what is to be done. Of which there are two &s;orts, the one good, the other evill. We read that
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<HI>Uladi&s;laus Jagelonus</HI> King of <HI>Polonia,</HI> in the <HI>Pru&s;sian</HI> war again&s;t the Germans, &s;pied an Angel armed a&s;&s;i&s;ting him; whom he re|ligiou&s;ly called <HI>Divum Stani&s;laum:</HI> by rea|&s;on of this &s;pectacle, he fought re&s;olutely, came off victorious, and in &s;pight of the Tyrants fury delivered <HI>Pru&s;sia. Plutarch</HI> tells us of an evil Angel that &s;till accom|panied <HI>Brutus;</HI> who being in con&s;ultation about the management of war, percei|ved a man &s;tanding before him of a prodigious bulk: he demanding of him, Who he was; received this an&s;wer, That he was his evil Spirit, whom he &s;hould &s;ee in the <HI>Philippick</HI> war: which proved true; for thereby he did not only progno&s;ticate his ill &s;ucce&s;s, but his death al&s;o, which accordingly happened. That the Romans relied much upon the predictions of their Spirits, appears, by the In&s;criptions of the Roman Coyns: <HI>Genius Augu&s;ti, Genius Senatus, Genius Populi Romani;</HI> and thereupon <HI>Ovid</HI> &s;ings,
<Q>Et vigilant no&s;tra &s;emper in urbe Lares.</Q>
But to pa&s;s by all the&s;e Phancies; there is no|thing conduceth more to the perfecting of a Conquerour, than Confidence; which our
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Senator mu&s;t be endowed with; for many times all other helps and hopes fail, when this remains for the la&s;t Refuge.</P>
<P>Security brings up the rear of the Con|comitants of that Noble General Forti|tude; which as it is the end of a good, &s;o is it of a valiant life; and hereby we gain tranquillity of mind. He that hath Securi|ty, is in the &s;ame condition he was before his Birth: my Author is <HI>Cicero.</HI> Now, this Security tends to a peaceable and quiet life in a Republick, which is commonly termed, Common Felicity. Yet our Secu|rity mu&s;t have a better foundation than an airy conceit; Sloath, Carele&s;ne&s;s, or Neg|ligence. <HI>Pompeius,</HI> being Commander of numerous Forces, and going to wage war with <HI>Cae&s;ar,</HI> &s;eem'd &s;ecure; yet &s;ome of his captains, that feared the vigilancy of <HI>Cae&s;ar,</HI> advi&s;ed him to be diligent: to whom he &s;aid, All was &s;ecure, and they might <HI>in utramque aurem dormire,</HI> take their re&s;t, and &s;leep &s;ecurely. But this Security cau&s;ed his flight, and by con&s;equence his overthrow. This is an errour incident to mo&s;t King|doms and Republicks; who being ru&s;&s;et|ted with peace, and grown hoary, as it were, with quietne&s;s, think them&s;elves &s;e|cure, when as they are &s;loathful, cowardly, dull, and negligent.</P>
<P><PB N="123" REF="66">
The Roman Empire was extreamly en|larged by their Vertue Military; in&s;omuch that their Eagles flew as far, if not father, than the current of their Laws did run. This <HI>Metropolis,</HI> from the time of <HI>Romulus,</HI> till the reign of <HI>Octavius Augustus,</HI> was ne|ver unarm'd. But <HI>Octavius</HI> finding a general peace all the World over, cau&s;ed the Tem|ple of <HI>Janus</HI> (which &s;tood open in time of univer&s;al peace only,) to be &s;hut; as if thereby the State &s;hould be for ever &s;ecu|red from Martial tumults. <HI>Rome</HI> being by this means &s;ecured, no &s;ucceeding Empe|rour opened the Temple of <HI>Janus:</HI> &s;o that from that time the People embraced an idle lazy life; whence it followed, that in proce&s;s of time all Countries, Cities and Kingdoms &s;hook off the Roman Yoke, and purcha&s;ed their own liberty; whereas &s;he, quite-di&s;arm'd, became &s;ubject to the <HI>Goths.</HI> We therefore approve of no other Security in our Coun&s;ellor, but &s;uch, as wanteth not care and provi&s;ion to repel danger and misfortune when they begin to encroach upon us. And happy is that Kingdom, that in time of peace prepares for war. It will not be ami&s;s, I pre&s;ume, to inform you what men are to be judged va|liant, and the rewards due unto &s;uch per|&s;ons
<PB N="124" REF="67">
&s;o judged. Some there are, that only led with love to Vertue, grounded upon ho|ne&s;t Principles, choo&s;e rather to hazard their lives and bodies in fight, than in time of nece&s;&s;ity to abandon their Prince, Country, or Friends. We find it recor|ded, that the Roman, German, and French Captains did alwaies animate their Soul|diers to fight, with per&s;wa&s;ions of the effi|cacious power of their great Forces, the Valour of their General, the Virtue of their Ance&s;tors, and the numerous &s;poils taken from the enemy: but the Comman|ders of <HI>Polonia</HI> u&s;e no other argument or compellation than this; Let every per&s;on be mindful of his own Virtue, and peculi|ar reputation: which only Sentence did &s;a|tisfie the <HI>Polonians,</HI> who&s;e fixed re&s;olution it is to fight till Victory &s;eats her &s;elf upon their Banners, or die in the Field. Now, he that &s;tands thus affected to Vertue and Hone&s;ty, may lawfully be termed Valiant. Which &s;ort of men are not to pa&s;s with|out their reward, and badges of honours, as En&s;igns of their Loyalty and Allegi|ance to their King. It is but rea&s;on and equity, that after the turmoyls of War, they &s;hould be cloathed with long Robes, and enjoy the tranquillity of a &s;erene, quiet
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and peaceable life. In <HI>Rome,</HI> all &s;uch Soul|diers were adopted Senators, as brought home any &s;poyl that did belong to the Per&s;on of the enemy, or that wore a Gar|land for &s;aving a Citizen in fight. Tho&s;e that had born office in the field for the &s;pace of ten years, were admitted to be ci|vill Magi&s;trates. Nay, <HI>Regulus</HI> being re|moved from the dignity of a Senator, was &s;o much di&s;turbed at the affront, that he tore his cloaths, and manife&s;ted the wounds of his body that he had received in battel; thereby claiming a place in the Senate-hou&s;e; and made a &s;uccinct relation of tho&s;e martial &s;ervices he had done for the good of his Country; which wrought &s;o much upon the Senate, that he was re-ad|mitted to his former dignity.</P>
<P>The <HI>Peripateticks</HI> affirm, that anger is <HI>Cos fortitudinis,</HI> the whet&s;tone of Fortitude; and men lightly moved thereby, attempt all things with the more vivacity and &s;prightline&s;s. Yet our Senator mu&s;t be careful that he avoid all fury and outrage in the u&s;e thereof, le&s;t he be branded with madne&s;s, and lo&s;e the title of Valiant; which may be effected by making Anger a Companion, no Commander of Forti|tude. There is nothing more misbecoming
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any man (e&s;pecially a Coun&s;ellor) than Anger: for he that is over&s;wayed with that furious pa&s;&s;ion, becomes like a brute bea&s;t, who&s;e property it is to &s;eek revenge in the heat and height of fury. Wherefore in all enterpri&s;es, let Hone&s;ty bring up the front, or be Commander; and Anger be Adju|tant General. <HI>Plato</HI> the Divine calls An|ger, The Sinews of the mind, becau&s;e there|by &s;he is &s;tretched and &s;crued up, and by Lenity let down. And he that engageth with an enemy, prompted to his enterprize by no other in&s;tigation than Anger, de|&s;erves the name of Cholerick, and not Va|liant; becau&s;e he undertakes the manage|ment of his affairs, moved thereunto by a certain perturbation of mind, not by rea|&s;on or honour. Wherefore it was well &s;aid by the Epicure, <HI>Anger is the i&s;&s;ue of Madne&s;s;</HI> which is a prejudicial to the health of the body, as the perfection of the mind. Some there are that a&s;cribe more to Fortune, than, if rightly con&s;ide|red, &s;he can lay claime to; and being ar|med with this conceit, only cry out <HI>Victoria,</HI> before they do <HI>cla&s;sicum canere;</HI> which, as we &s;ay, count their Chickens before they be hatcht. For although the force of For|tune be great, and mo&s;t con&s;iderable in
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War, (becau&s;e it is mo&s;t prevalent in tho&s;e things where rea&s;on is lea&s;t power|ful) yet mu&s;t we not rely upon her &s;o much, as altogether to for&s;ake all advice and con&s;ultation; for, tho&s;e that are con|ducted by rea&s;on, want not the Au&s;pices of Fortune. <HI>Hannibal</HI> &s;uing for peace with <HI>Scipio,</HI> expre&s;&s;ed him&s;elf as followeth; I have been in&s;tructed by good and bad &s;uc|ce&s;s &s;o well, that I am &s;en&s;ible it is far bet|ter to relie on Rea&s;on, than Fortune. For &s;he often fails when a man is come to the la&s;t pinch of extremity; and there is no|thing more fickle and incon&s;tant; &s;he's a Female, and will wax and wane twice in a minute; and blinds the judgement of tho&s;e that bridle not her head-&s;trong fury. Therefore let our Senator be <HI>&s;uae fortunae fa|ber,</HI> the hammer of his own fortune; and make way for his &s;ucce&s;s by his valour and magnanimity, and then &s;he will afford a&s;|&s;i&s;tance; for &s;he lacqueys rea&s;on, as a &s;ha|dow doth the body. It is the opinion of <HI>Xenophon,</HI> that in war evill fortune accom|panies the bad, and good fortune the good. <HI>Alexander, Scipio</HI> and <HI>Hannibal</HI> were fortu|nate, but not &s;o much through the aide of that fickle Lady, as the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of Wi&s;|dome, and the benefit of Vertue. Yet he
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behaves him&s;elf wi&s;ely, that takes Fortune and Opportunity when it is offered: for, <HI>po&s;t est occa&s;io calva;</HI> he mu&s;t take her by the foretop, becau&s;e &s;he's bald behind; and once pa&s;t, is pa&s;t recovery. Now, &s;ome there are, that if they find &s;ucce&s;s in their undertakings, immediately a&s;cribe all to Fortune as the Authore&s;s, as is before men|tioned; yet there is no man that may be termed wi&s;e, but &s;corns to make her the Di|rectre&s;s of his actions.</P>
<P>Now, to the perfection of our Senators body, (for we have already di&s;cour&s;ed of the endowments of the mind.) The goods of the body con&s;i&s;t partly in the whole body, and partly in &s;ome particular mem|bers thereof: Health, &s;trength and &s;ound|ne&s;s are required in the whole body; but perfect &s;ence, and agility, and activene&s;s in &s;ome peculiar members only. And as there is a con&s;ent or harmony between the body and mind; &s;o is there a certain cor|re&s;pondency and &s;imilitude between the vertues of them both. Health re&s;embleth Ju&s;tice; becau&s;e it reduceth the different con&s;titutions of the body to an equal tem|perature, and they both con&s;pire to make the body and mind perfect. Strength is compared to Fortitude; becau&s;e they
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mutually a&s;&s;i&s;t one another in the undergo|ing of perils and dangers. Soundne&s;s of body is a&s;&s;imilated to Prudence: for as Prudence makes a reconciliation between all opinions and judgments, till they &s;hake hands; &s;o in a &s;ound body, all parts unite their forces together, to make it up perfect. Health doth very much avail; for in all our actions &s;he &s;ets us forward with cou|rage and delight; whereas &s;ickne&s;s debili|tates the body, and hinders it from the pro|&s;ecution of a de&s;ign: She's not to be had by price, &s;aith the Lyrick Poet,
<Q><HI>&mdash;Non gemmis neque purpura venale nec auro.</HI></Q>
Neither Gold nor Silver can purcha&s;e it. The multitude of Acres will not cure &s;o much as the head-ach; nor the tumbling over of your Bags, the rich-Gout, Stone, or Collick. It is a free gift of the Creator, as from the prime efficient; but good diet and exerci&s;e is the &s;ecundary cau&s;e: Therefore our Senator mu&s;t take heed le&s;t he de&s;troy or lo&s;e this ine&s;timable Jewel by Intempe|rancy. Health (&s;aith the Prince of Ora|tors) is maintained by knowing a mans own body, and taking an ob&s;ervation of tho&s;e things which agree or di&s;agree mo&s;t
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with the natural con&s;titution; as al&s;o by continency in diet, and contempt of plea|&s;ures: what el&s;e remains, mu&s;t be fetch'd out of the volumes of tho&s;e two famous pil|lars of the Temple of <HI>Ae&s;culapius, Galen</HI> and <HI>Hippocrates. Diogenes</HI> u&s;ed to laugh them to &s;corn, that thought to procure health, being di&s;tempered, by &s;acrificing to the Gods; and yet wallow all their life-time in debauchery and exce&s;s. Let our Senator therefore be, as the Phy&s;icians term it, Sanguine or Cholerick; for tho&s;e humours encline men to be ingenious, do|cible, healthy, and of large memories. <HI>Ari&s;tatle</HI> &s;aith, Melancholick men are wit|ty, becau&s;e they being &s;ubject to anger, are apt to have divine cogitations, and pro|found thoughts; yet are they to be exclu|ded from Council, becau&s;e the humour mo&s;t predominant in &s;uch per&s;ons is cold and dry; which makes their con&s;ultations &s;olitary, &s;owre, &s;ad and dull: for a melan|choly per&s;on is nothing but a lump of quickned care; whereas the merry &s;oul is blithe, plea&s;ant, affable and debonair. <HI>Ci|cero</HI> chancing to meet with that pa&s;&s;age in <HI>Aristotle,</HI> that melancholick per&s;ons were ingenious; with a &s;mile, &s;aid, He rejoyced extremely, that Nature had favoured him
<PB N="131" REF="70">
&s;o far, as to make him dull witted, and not melancholick. <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> being de&s;ired to take heed of a corpulent, merry, jovial per&s;on; &s;aid, Such per&s;ons were not to be feared, but tho&s;e rather that were &s;ad, of a &s;warthy meagre complexion; pointing to <HI>Brutus</HI> and <HI>Ca&s;sius.</HI> Nor do we approve of phleg|matick per&s;ons, as fit for Senators; le&s;t their cro&s;s humour be a di&s;turbance to all the re&s;t, and &s;o prove offen&s;ive: for, as the mo|tion of the phlegmatick is Saturnine, &s;low and dull; &s;o likewi&s;e is the di&s;po&s;ition of their mind.</P>
<P>Good proportion and comline&s;s of bo|die is requi&s;ite in our Senator; for accor|ding to the Poet,
<Q>Gratior e&s;t pulchro veniens &amp; corpore virtus.</Q>
Now I call that comline&s;s in him, which &s;hews him to be manly, and not effemi|nate. <HI>Aristotle</HI> &s;aith, in tall per&s;ons there is no great vertue, and in the &s;hort or low of &s;tature, little; therefore let him be of a moderate &s;ize. His body mu&s;t not be gro&s;s, nor yet lean and dry, like a Skeleton or Anatomy. For, the former is unapt for travel, and the latter over-weak to en|dure hard&s;hip. Be&s;ides, great notice &s;hould
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be taken of tho&s;e that Nature hath mark'd with any deformity, or defect of Member, as the want of an eye: For &s;uch per&s;ons are counted crafty and &s;ubtile, and &s;o un|fit for Con&s;ultation, (had this been ob&s;er|ved among us, <HI>Hew&s;on</HI> had never &s;ate &s;o oft in Council.) Yet, notwith&s;tanding all the&s;e niceties of features and comeline&s;s, if any &s;uch per&s;on, though deformed in body, be perfect in mind; he &s;hall be ad|mitted: for the excellency of Vertue over-comes the imperfection of Nature. And though the inward di&s;po&s;ition is &s;ome|times known by the outward complexion; yet is not the conjecture of the virtues of the mind by the lineaments of the body &s;o certain, but that it may fail: for many there be, who are rough-hewn without, but neatly poli&s;ht within. Nor can deformity of body blemi&s;h the mind, though the beau|ty of the mind beautifie that of the body. Nor doth Vertue confine her &s;elf either to beauty or deformity, meanne&s;s or great|ne&s;s; but &s;ometimes dwels with ru&s;&s;et hone|&s;ty, in the low cottage, as well as with plu|med gallantry in lofty Palaces. So that not the countenance of a Senator is altogether to be regarded, but his mind and qualifi|cations.</P>
<P><PB N="133" REF="71">
Now, to the Robes and Ve&s;ture of our Senator: He mu&s;t be decently apparelled, according to his degree and dignity; for the comely ornament of a garment adds a reverence to his per&s;on; and by his Robes he is di&s;tingui&s;hed from all other &s;orts and kinds of per&s;ons. The Roman Senators wore a Garment &s;et full of &s;tuds or tufts of Gold; and on their Ho&s;e did they wear the form of the Moon; which was the cog|nizance or hadge of great honour. This kind of Ornament the Romans were be|holding to other Nations for, according to all probability; for <HI>I&s;aiah</HI> the Prophet foretold the Noble women of <HI>Judaea,</HI> that God would take away tho&s;e Moons and Ornaments of the Ho&s;e. <HI>Plutarch</HI> alledgeth four cau&s;es of this fa&s;hioned Ho&s;e among the Romans, which for the Readers de|light and recreation I &s;hall here rehear&s;e.</P>
<P>Fir&s;t, Becau&s;e their &s;uper&s;tition taught them, that the &s;ouls of their <HI>Heroes</HI> &s;hould be led the neare&s;t way to Heaven by the light of the Moon.</P>
<P>The &s;econd was, that the Sign of the Moon did manife&s;t their de&s;cent from the <HI>Arcadians,</HI> who came into <HI>Italy</HI> with <HI>Evan|der;</HI> and the <HI>Arcadians</HI> were &s;o lunatick as to imagine them&s;elves more ancient than the Moon.</P>
<P><PB N="134" REF="72">
The third cau&s;e that mov'd them to the wearing of the Moon, was, to the end that in pro&s;perity it might be as a <HI>memento</HI> unto them of the mutability and incon&s;tancy of Fortune. For, as the Moon is &s;ometimes partly lightned, and partly darkned; &s;o no honour or felicity can be &s;o clear and re|fulgent, but it may &s;omtimes be overca&s;t with clouds of obloquy and malice.</P>
<P>The fourth cau&s;e was, that as the Moon drinks in all her light from the Sun; &s;o ought all men to think them&s;elves indebted to heaven for their wi&s;dom.</P>
<P>Others there are who affirm, that the Roman Senators did not wear the figure of the Moon, but the proportion of the letter <HI>C.</HI> as though the hundred that <HI>Romulus</HI> cho&s;e to be <HI>Patres</HI> (as he call'd them) &s;hould thence take their Title. It hath ever been a Cu&s;tom in all Kingdoms, Republicks, and well-govern'd States heretofore, to di&s;tin|gui&s;h the Degrees of men by their Ve|&s;ture; and without doubt this is of much moment to make them con&s;tant and &s;ettled in their profe&s;&s;ions. Among the Romans no man might be adorned with Purple, but Senators, Magi&s;trates, Prie&s;ts, and the Younger &s;ort that were of noble ranke and quality. I omit the mentioning of Rings,
<PB N="135" REF="72">
Chains, and Bracelets, which were be&s;tow|ed on vertuous per&s;ons, advanced to digni|ty, as encouragements. Though the&s;e cu|&s;toms now adaies are ob&s;olete, &s;ince the alteration of vertues, manners and times; for <HI>Jone</HI> is as neatly trickt up as my Lady, and the Artizan as the Gentleman: It is mo&s;t certain, that by ornaments and ad|ditional titles of honour men are put in mind of their duty; and thereby they pro|&s;ecute all things with the more eagerne&s;s and diligence. Scepters, Crowns, Chains, Rings, Gowns, Robes and Saddles, are no dignities, but the badges of Dignity, where|by men are &s;tirred up and encouraged to perform what is requi&s;ite in the office and place whereunto tho&s;e Badges belong. <HI>Re|mulus</HI> (&s;aith <HI>Livy)</HI> intending to take the Government of a &s;trange People upon him, did adorn him&s;elf with his maje&s;ti|cal Robes, and called twelve Lictors with Maces, to attend upon his per&s;on, that he might thereby appear with greater pomp and o&s;tentation, and &s;o captivate the hearts of the people: for the Vulgar (like Chil|dren) are hugely taken with the outward face and appearance of things; and mind the outward bark more than the inward &s;ub&s;tance. Our Senator therefore &s;hall ob|&s;erve
<PB N="136" REF="73">
&s;uch a <HI>decorum</HI> in his apparel, as not to encline to lightne&s;s or fooli&s;h gallantry, &s;o to decline all &s;lovingline&s;s and ru&s;ticity: As he mu&s;t not be like the Frenchified Gal|lant, who when he hath once &s;een <HI>Paris,</HI> comes over metamorphos'd both in body and mind; dancing out an entertainment to his friend with a giddy feather in his Crown: no more mu&s;t he be like the Sun|bak'd-pea&s;ant, who under&s;tands nothing of ceremony or civility be&s;ides the ma|nagement of his plough, and under&s;tands no other Gammut but <HI>Hay, gee, ho,</HI> which he &s;igns to his country Teem when they draw the Plow that furrows the face of the Earth. He mu&s;t ever ob&s;erve &s;uch a comly neatne&s;s, as may &s;peak him man, and not woman; utterly declining and abhorring all nice curio&s;ity.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="7" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. VII.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Of Travel; the Age, Gravity, and Election of our Senator.</HEAD>
<P>THe major part of the wi&s;dom of a Coun&s;ellor con&s;i&s;ts in the knowledge of the Manners, Laws and Cu&s;toms of all
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Nations; which is be&s;t attained by forrain Travel, as <HI>Homer</HI> &s;ings of <HI>Uly&s;&s;es,</HI>
<Q><L>Dic mihi Mu&s;a virum captae po&s;t tempora Trojae,</L>
<L>Qui mores hominum multorum vidit, &amp; urbes.</L></Q>
And indeed, there is nothing accompli&s;hes a man more than forrain Travel. <HI>In motu melas.</HI> There is a certain kind of harmony in motion. And as the Ma&s;ter of Elo|quence hath it, <HI>Plebeiae &s;ane &s;unt i&s;tae animae, quae &s;uis affixae trabibus domi re&s;ident; illa di|vinior, quae coelum imitatur, &amp; gaudet motu.</HI> Tho&s;e are dunghil &s;pirits, that live confin'd to the narrow round of the place of their nativity; and that &s;oul is of a more noble allay, that like the Heavens rejoyceth in motion. Sir <HI>Thomas Moor</HI> writes, that a mans be&s;t friends in Travel is his coyn: yet under favour, notwith&s;tanding the Autho|rity of &s;o learned a Grandee, if a man be accompanied with too many of the&s;e friends, his journey will be <HI>motus trepidati|onis;</HI> for according to the nipping Saty|ri&s;t,
<Q><L>Pauca licet portes argenti va&s;cula puri;</L>
<L>Nocte iter ingre&s;&s;us gladium, contumque timebis,</L>
<L>Et motae adLunam trepidabis arundinis umbram</L></Q>
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Whereas, as he immediately affirms,
<Q>Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator.</Q>
The indigent Traveller &s;hall &s;ing before a <HI>Qui va la?</HI> or High-way-man. Yet would not we have our Coun&s;ellor &s;o de&s;titute of money, as thereby to expo&s;e him&s;elf to hard&s;hip and di&s;tre&s;s; but &s;o hand&s;omly accommodated, as that he may take a &s;ur|vey of all Countries with honour and cre|dit. Yet in travelling, he mu&s;t be very care|ful that he only come over again furni&s;hed and full fraughted with tho&s;e Laws and Cu&s;tomes that are hone&s;t and civil, and leave tho&s;e that are erroneous and evill be|hind him. For,
<Q>Terras, non animos mutant, qui tran&s;mare currunt.</Q>
Or at lea&s;t they &s;hould do &s;o, and not like &s;ome green heads that corrupt them&s;elves, and learn nothing but the &s;uper&s;titious Idolatrous ceremonies of other Countries, and be &s;ure to retain what is bad, though it prove to their own prejudice and ruine. He mu&s;t be very exact in informing him|&s;elf what Laws, Juri&s;dictions, what order of life, military Di&s;cipline, civil Govern|ment,
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and dome&s;tical life is in every Nati|on practi&s;ed. He &s;hall take particular no|tice of the &s;ituation of Countries and places, the building of Cities, their Forti|fication, Strength and Ammunition. Let him al&s;o under&s;tand the vertue of every Prince; how his People &s;tand affected to him, and upon what terms; the wi&s;dom of their Senate, the form and method of their Con&s;ultations, as far as without pre|judice to him&s;elf it may be pried into; the nature and ingenuity of the people; what vertues they adhere to, and what vices they are mo&s;t addicted unto; what Learned men, Souldiers and Commanders are in every Country to be found out; that &s;o by the report of them to his own Nation, the be&s;t precepts may be cull'd out, and the re&s;t rejected. Yet he mu&s;t take heed, le&s;t by the new-fangled fa&s;hions that he brings over, he make not the people effeminate, and carele&s;s of their own Laws, Cu&s;toms, and ancient vertues: for as <HI>Pliny</HI> &s;aith tru|ly, <HI>Est natura hominum novitatis avida:</HI> Man's nature prompts him to embrace Novelty, which oftentimes proves pernici|ous, and tends to the mole&s;tation of the Kingdom, Republick, or State. Many fa|mous per&s;ons have taken delight in travel,
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as <HI>Ne&s;tor, Menelaus,</HI> and <HI>Alexander</HI> the Great, out of love thereunto, <HI>Homer,</HI> and <HI>Democritus,</HI> that merrily pa&s;&s;ed his time away, travelled all over <HI>Aegypt, Babylon,</HI> and <HI>Per&s;ia;</HI> thereby hoping to obtain know|ledge, that &s;o their minds being &s;tored with variety of ob&s;ervation, they might be the more accompli&s;hed, and remain con|tent with their own fortune. The words that <HI>Diodorus Siculus</HI> reports to be written upon the Tomb of <HI>O&s;iris,</HI> are worthy the quotation and remembrance; which are the&s;e, or to this effect: <HI>O&s;iris Rex &s;um, Sa|turm antiquior filius, qui nullum orbis locum reliqui, quem non attigerim, di&s;cens ea omnia, quae generi humano utilia &s;unt, &amp; nece&s;&s;aria.</HI> But if he want money to &s;upport him in travel, let him employ his time in the &s;tu|dy of Geography, and Co&s;mography: And a &s;mack he may have of Natural Phi|lo&s;ophy; but to con&s;ume much time in that Science, is judg'd, by &s;ome, &s;uperflu|ous in a Senator. The field of knowledge is unmea&s;urable and infinite; which was the rea&s;on that men applied them&s;elves to one particular Art or Science. <HI>Aliquis in omnibus,</HI> and <HI>nullus in &s;ingulis,</HI> is no fit Motto for a Coun&s;ellor. Wherefore, we com|mit to the Juri&s;diction of our Senator two
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&s;orts of Countries; the one is that which containeth both God and Man (not as if we pre&s;cribed God his place of re&s;idence, but we &s;peak here according to vulgar ca|pacities) not limited within the bounds of <HI>Europe, A&s;ia</HI> or <HI>Africa;</HI> but is only &s;urroun|ded by the po&s;ting Sun. The other is the place that Nature hath de&s;tined for his re|&s;idence or being, as <HI>England, France, Italy, Spain, Germany,</HI> &amp;c. For it belongs unto him to take a &s;urvey of the order and na|ture of the <HI>Macroco&s;m,</HI> the univer&s;al World, which the Latines call, <HI>Majorem Mundum;</HI> as well as the <HI>Microco&s;me,</HI> or little World, where he hath his habitation and abode, which they term, <HI>Minorem mundum.</HI> And when the mind is di&s;manacled of tho&s;e worldly incumbrances which u&s;ually ad|here to the body, and by Travel and Sci|ence is perfected, as much as lies within the verge of humanity to be; &s;he officiates as &s;he ought, affecting Vertue, and di&s;affe|cting Vice, &s;uppre&s;&s;ing the lu&s;ty in&s;urre|ctions of the fle&s;h, and like a Monarch curbing and giving Laws to all exorbitant affections. Nay further, when the mind hath pried into the nature of the Heavens, con&s;idered their harmonious motion, knows the circumference of the Earth, her
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Longitude, Latitude, and the rarities con|tained therein; hath plough'd the fur|row'd Ocean, and &s;een the wonders of the deep, under&s;tands their cau&s;es, begin|nings and ends; what is the order and beauty of the glimmering Lights of Hea|ven, and what influence they have upon &s;ublunary bodies: what cau&s;eth the pa&s;&s;i|ons or <HI>deliquia</HI> of the two Grand Lumina|ries, the Sun and Moon; the rea&s;on of their Ri&s;ing and Setting, their Diurnal, Nocturnal and horary motion; what is the generation and corruption of all things; what the nature of the Elements, of Animals, and the vertue and beauty of that innumerable number of fragrant herbs that u&s;ually adorn the Earth: when, I &s;ay, all the&s;e things are under&s;tood by one &s;ingle per&s;on, and God acknowledged the Supreme Author and Governour of them all; Shall not that Per&s;on be judged a Prince, rather than a meer Inhabitant or Citizen of the World, that is of &s;o pro|found and polite an under&s;tanding? Sure|ly yes. <HI>Socrates,</HI> who by the Oracle at <HI>Del|phos</HI> was pronounced the wi&s;e&s;t of Eth|nicks, being demanded what Country-man he was; replied, <HI>A man of the World;</HI> not confining him&s;elf to any particular
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place or Country; for he thought him&s;elf to be an univer&s;al Prince. The &s;ame <HI>Laerti|us</HI> reports of that Tub-hugging Cynick <HI>Diogenes. Omne &s;olum forti patria,</HI> is an old &s;aying; and <HI>Omne &s;olum &s;apienti patria,</HI> car|ries as much truth with it, as the former an|tiquity. The whole World is a Wi&s;e man's Country: 'Tis a City that comes not under the tyrannous &s;courge of any <HI>Nero, Domitian,</HI> or <HI>Caligula;</HI> Nor can be envi|ron'd with walls, but is &s;urrounded with the univer&s;al Circle, governed by a comly order, and natural <HI>decorum,</HI> as it were with a Law certain and inviolable, palizadoed with no other fortifications than the Ele|ments. The Citizens or Inhabitants of this place are termed Philo&s;ophers, com|manded only by them&s;elves, fortified with invincible minds, and &s;ufficiently arm'd again&s;t the griping talons of penury, or any other misfortune that can &s;eize upon man. Such Per&s;ons (nay, Princes as the&s;e, I may &s;ay, without entrenching on the Royal Charter of Kings) no fury of War can terrifie, no Faggot frighten, nor Axe di&s;turb; for they are all valiant, re&s;olute, and beyond the prejudice of Fortune.</P>
<P>Now, to the Age and Gravity of our Senator. They that have penned any thing
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of the life of man, did u&s;ually confine it to a certain proportion of time. <HI>Plato</HI> a&s;|&s;igneth eighty one years; <HI>Solon,</HI> eighty; others affirm, that the continuance of mans life extends but to &s;eventy, referring all to the number &s;even, becau&s;e it frequently fals out, that every &s;eventh year &s;ome alterati|on or change appears in the body. The fir&s;t &s;even years, Childrens teeth fall out; The next &s;even, their hair grows; The third, their body comes to its proper &s;ta|ture and height; The fourth, they encrea&s;e in bulk and thickne&s;s; The fifth, they ar|rive at their full &s;trength and virility; The &s;ixth, they find them&s;elves addicted to plea|&s;ure and delight; The &s;eventh, they come to the maturity and ripene&s;s of wit and un|der&s;tanding; The eighth, they begin to be termed aged, or ancient; The ninth, weak and feeble, beholding to the &s;upport of the &s;taff, and the help of Spectacles; And the tenth, they have one foot in the grave, and are reckoned to be <HI>&egrave; peculio Pro&s;erpinae,</HI> of <HI>Pro&s;erpina</HI>'s fold. Others there are, who maintain that this change happens every ninth year, and &s;o a&s;cribe the alteration thereof to every unequal number till twen|ty and one. <HI>Pythagoras</HI> the &s;ilent, called the eightieth year of mans Age fatal, dividing it
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into four times twenty, as followeth: Childhood, continues till twenty; Youth, other twenty; Man's e&s;tate, the other twen|ty; and old Age, the fourth, which puts a period to all. Some again compare Mans Age to the four Sea&s;ons of the Year: Childhood, is compared to the Spring; Youth, to Summer; Manhood, to Autumn; and Old-Age, to Winter. <HI>Varro</HI> divides Man's Age into four degrees, and compre|hends every of them within the number of fifteen: Childhood (&s;aith he) la&s;ts till fifteen, for &s;o long Children are weak and tender; Youth, till thirty, becau&s;e till that Age men encrea&s;e and grow in height and thickne&s;s; Ripe Age till forty five, for &s;o long &s;trength of body continues, and men are then fit to be employed in publike af|fairs; Old-Age begins at &s;ixty, and then the body is impotent, crazy and decay'd; &s;o that they are not fit for State-employ|ments, lingring, and con&s;uming till death come and trip up their heels, as he did all their Ance&s;tors before them. To this divi|&s;ion of mans Age we a&s;&s;ent; but the di|&s;tinction by number doth principally be|long to Phy&s;icians; for they in exhibiting their medicines, ob&s;erve certain critical daies. But our opinion is, that the forty
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fifth year of man's age is mo&s;t &s;uitable for Con&s;ulation; becau&s;e then the &s;trength both of body and mind is arrived to the very height. Be&s;ides, it is the middle age of Man; and at that time, if ever, the mind is perfect in judgement and experience, le&s;s attracted with bruti&s;h affections and de|&s;ires, and lea&s;t of all tran&s;ported with rage, fury, or pa&s;&s;ion. When old <HI>Rome</HI> was in her glory, and &s;hone with all her &s;plendor, Senators were cho&s;en at that Age, being then mo&s;t perfect in body and mind: yet dare we not deny, but that &s;ome men may be termed Aged at thirty; that is, are both prudent, grave and wi&s;e. And we find it upon record, that &s;ome, though very few, were created Senators by the Romans before the thirtieth year of their Age; which we do not di&s;allow, in regard that men may be reputed ancient for vertue as well as number of years: yet care mu&s;t be taken that the Kingdom be governed chief|ly by mature and grave Head-pieces; for as <HI>Plutarch</HI> affirms, that Kingdom is mo&s;t happy that hath &s;tore of young mens Lan|ces, and old mens Laws. Pertinent is that of <HI>Euripides</HI> to this purpo&s;e: <HI>Dictum e&s;t ve|tu&s;tu<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1+ letters"> facta Juvenum, caeterum magis valent concilia Senum.</HI> In <HI>Athens</HI> no per&s;on was
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created Senator before he was fifty years old. And in <HI>Rome</HI> it was permitted for any man of &s;ixty to enter the Senate-hou&s;e, though he never came to the Senator&s;hip by choice or election; and after that year, it was left to his plea&s;ure to be pre&s;ent or ab&s;ent; &s;o that they did neither bind him to, nor bar him from coming to Council. A good, though ancient Cu&s;tom; for every man, though he hath &s;een as many Win|ters as hoary-headed <HI>Ne&s;tor,</HI> ought to em|ploy him&s;elf <HI>pro po&s;&s;e &s;uo,</HI> according to his utmo&s;t ability, for the benefit of his native Country. <HI>Plato</HI> is of opinion, that men mu&s;t learn till Age &s;now white hairs up|on their heads. <HI>Nulla dies &s;ine linea;</HI> that day is lo&s;t, in which a man hath not bet|ter'd his knowledge. Yet we prohibit de|crepit, doting per&s;ons, who&s;e judgements are as crazy as their bodies; and the rea|&s;on is, becau&s;e their coun&s;els and con&s;ulta|tions are for the mo&s;t part dubious, and are rather he &s;itant conjectures than &s;olid coun|&s;els, beginning every Sentence with per|haps, perchance, peradventure, and the like: and this they do, as being &s;en&s;ible of their former imbecility and weakne&s;s, and &s;o are unwilling to &s;uffer a relap&s;e in|to their juvenile and youthful errours and
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mi&s;takes. Yet, if they have only &s;o many years over their heads as may render them grave, &s;olid and wife, they are perfect in uttering their conceits: for by u&s;e and ex|perience (which is the be&s;t School-Mi|&s;tris) they have gain'd, as it were, a third eye, whereby they are enabled to pry into, and di&s;cern with the more vivacity, the e|vents and cau&s;es of things. And as every man is di&s;covered by his &s;peech, &s;o is the prudence and wi&s;dom of a Senator mani|fe&s;ted by uttering his opinion. <HI>Socrates,</HI> ca&s;ting his eye upon a Youth that he never had &s;een before, &s;aies to him, <HI>Speak, that I may know thee:</HI> So may we &s;ay to our Coun&s;ellor, <HI>By the &s;olidity of thy &s;peech, and the gravity of thy deportment, manifest thy &s;elf unto us.</HI> Now his opinion mu&s;t be delivered in &s;ignificant, but plain naked terms; not daubed over <HI>fuco Rhetoricae la&s;civientis,</HI> with the paints of la&s;civiating Rhetorique, which becomes the Rhetorick School, bet|ter than the Parliament Hou&s;e. But &s;o much for his Age and Gravity.</P>
<P>Now to the Election of our Senator. Among the Romans (in the times of Yore Lords of the whole World) Senators were elected divers waies; for, they were cho&s;en either by the King, Con&s;uls, Dicta|tors,
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Tribunes of the people, the Cen&s;ors or Chieftains. And the Cu&s;tome of free|born natives is to choo&s;e Senators among them&s;elves, or el&s;e to commit the authority of Election to a &s;ingle per&s;on, who for wi&s;dome, gravity and dignity is judged the mo&s;t fit, and that is the King; which the Romans did at fir&s;t. <HI>Romulus,</HI> the fir&s;t founder of their City, elected a hundred Senators; which cu&s;tome was followed by their &s;ucceeding Kings. But, when Kingly Government, through the in&s;olent govern|ment of <HI>Tarquinius</HI> the Ravi&s;her, was re|moved, this power of election (according to the quality of the time) was &s;omewhat changed, yet not given to a multitude; for till the State returned to the Ba&s;is and foun|dation of Government, Monarchy, Sena|tors were elected by Con&s;uls, Cen&s;ors, Dictators, or Chieftains. In all which Elections, till the time of <HI>Augu&s;tus,</HI> there is no mention made of lots; but the Fame, Family, Order, Office before born, riches and po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ions, were mo&s;t of all con&s;idered and re&s;pected. Now, &s;ince there is no earth|ly po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion but comes far &s;hort of Ver|tue for excellency in the choice of Senators, that mu&s;t be chiefly look'd upon; becau&s;e they are reputed Defenders of the Law,
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Moderators of Liberty, and Con&s;ervers of a Kingdom. And as the Republick or King|dom is oftentimes infected by the vice and impiety of Magi&s;trates; &s;o is it antidoted, corrected and repaired by their vertues. Such are the People of every Country, as are the Manners of their Governours; and the Subjects are apt to Ape the Cu&s;toms and Con&s;titutions of their Prince. It was well &s;aid of one, That the change of Prin|ces Lives, and the alteration of Manners in Magi&s;trates, would al&s;o work even to a mutation of the Cu&s;toms, In&s;titutions and Rights, nay, of the Kingdom it &s;elf. And to deal really with you, evill Princes are very much to be blamed, not in that they them&s;elves are guilty of any crime, for it is a Maxim in our Common Law, <HI>That the King can do no wrong;</HI> but that thereby the Subjects are prone to be feduced, and led away to the &s;ame exorbitancies; which may ju&s;tly be &s;o termed in them, though not in a King. And indeed, how can it en|ter within the li&s;ts of po&s;&s;ibility for a man to per&s;wade other men to be vertuous, when he him&s;elf is vicious? The Romans derided <HI>Scylla,</HI> who, though a man infinite|ly debauched, and wholly given up to licen|ciou&s;ne&s;s, did neverthele&s;s admoni&s;h and
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&s;tir up others to Sobriety, Temperance and Frugality. And who would not blame <HI>Li|&s;ander?</HI> though he &s;wam in a contrary &s;tream, yet he allowed and gave tolerati|on to the Citizens for tho&s;e vices which he him&s;elf ab&s;tained from and abhorred. But <HI>Lycurgus</HI> de&s;erves commendation, becau&s;e he never impo&s;ed the ob&s;ervation of that upon any man, which he him&s;elf did not fir&s;t of all diligently follow. Yet in a free-State, (if any &s;uch there be) it hath been ob&s;erved, they have been directed by the &s;uffrage of chance. This order of Election is ob&s;erved by that Virgin, <HI>Venice.</HI> The like in&s;titution <HI>Solon</HI> authorized among the Athenians for the choice of the five hun|dred Senators: For, out of every Tribe were &s;o many elected, as were thought to de&s;erve that dignity; who&s;e names were put into a Pot; and into another as many Beans, the one half white, and the other black: now &s;o many as hapned upon the white, were pronounced Senators; and tho&s;e that chanced to light on the black, were re|pul&s;ed and di&s;mi&s;&s;ed: which made <HI>Thucy|dides</HI> to call that Senate, <HI>Senatum &agrave; Faba.</HI> Be&s;ides, it was ob&s;erved among the Ro|mans what Office he had born before his Election, and with what fidelity he had
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di&s;charged him&s;elf of his duty: for they made choice of their Senators out of that number of men only, that were by them &s;tyled <HI>Patres,</HI> which was, as it were, the Nur&s;ery of Coun&s;ellors, that &s;o they might be known to be men famous for &s;ome pub|like exploit, or renowned for their Wi&s;|dom and Gravity.</P>
<P>Among us, tho&s;e that &s;it in Parliament obtain that Dignity three manner of waies:
<LIST>
<ITEM>Fir&s;t, By rea&s;on of their Tenure.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Secondly, By vertue of Writ; and</ITEM>
<ITEM>Thirdly, By vertue of Office.</ITEM>
</LIST></P>
<P><HI>Per Tenure</HI> are the&s;e: Archbi&s;hops, Bi|&s;hops, Abbots, Priors, Dukes, Marque&s;|&s;es, Earls and Barons. And the&s;e are &s;um|moned to appear before the Parliament in the &s;pace of 48. daies.</P>
<P>They that come in <HI>per Breve,</HI> or by Writ, are the&s;e: Knights of the Shires, Burge&s;&s;es, Citizens, Barons of the Cinque-Ports, and the King's Council. There come al&s;o <HI>per Bre|ve,</HI> directed to the &s;everal Deans and Arch-Deacons of this Kingdom, two &s;everal Pro|ctors of the Clergy for every &s;everal Dea|conry &amp; Arch-deaconry; and the&s;e Proctors of the Clergy are elected by the Clergy. There come hither <HI>per Service,</HI> or by vertue of
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Office, The Chief Crier of <HI>England;</HI> The Chief U&s;her; The Chancellor; The Trea|&s;urer; The Chamberlain, and Barons of the Exchequer; The Ju&s;tices of either Bench; The Steward of <HI>England;</HI> The Por|ter, Grooms, and all tyed by &s;ervice to be here done. The Stewards Office was to place the Lords; the Porter u&s;ed to &s;ee there be but one door to enter in and go out at: And every one of the above-mentioned Officers, hath had his &s;everal Charge re|&s;pectively. Thus have you had a de&s;cripti|on of our <HI>Sage Senator,</HI> of all the qualifica|tions that tend to his accompli&s;hment; his Duty, Dignity and Office di&s;played and laid open; the rewards due unto, and con|ferred on him; the ancient Cu&s;toms of the Romans and Grecians touching this parti|cular; their election and choice; as al&s;o their manner of &s;itting in Parliament a|mong us; how and by what means they obtain the Senator&s;hip, or title of Parlia|ment-men, according to our modern &s;tyles, who were &s;o termed, becau&s;e every Mem|ber of this High and mo&s;t ab&s;olute Court of Ju&s;tice in <HI>England</HI> (from which there is no appeal to any other for redre&s;s) &s;hould &s;incerely and di&s;creetly <HI>Parler la ment,</HI> as it is in the old Norman French, that is, freely
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expre&s;s their minds for the benefit of the Kingdom. Nor are the Laws of this I&s;land only, and the Liberty of the Subject con&s;er|ved by Parliament, but tho&s;e of all well po|licied Kingdoms &amp; Countries el&s;e in <HI>Europe.</HI> The Germans have their Diets; The Danes and Swedes their <HI>Riicks Dachs;</HI> The Spani|ard calls his Parliament <HI>Las Cortes;</HI> And the French have (or at lea&s;t &s;hould have) their A&s;&s;embly of the three States, though it be now in a manner grown ob&s;olete, be|cau&s;e the authority thereof was by acci|dent devolv'd upon the King: it will not be altogether impertinent to give you a &s;uc|cinct account of this memorable alterati|on; which hapned as followeth: When our Nation had taken &s;uch large footing in <HI>France,</HI> that they advanced as far as <HI>Orleans,</HI> and had forced their then Soveraign to fly to <HI>Bourges</HI> in <HI>Berry,</HI> for &s;anctuary; the A&s;&s;em|bly of the three States not being able to convene during the&s;e pre&s;&s;ures in full Par|liament, becau&s;e that by tho&s;e inva&s;ions the enemy made into the very bowels of the Kingdom, the Country was altogether unpa&s;&s;able, &s;o that the power that was inherent in the Parliamentary Convention, of enacting Laws, a&s;&s;e&s;&s;ing the Subject with Taxes, &s;ub&s;idiary Levies, and other Impo|&s;itions,
<PB N="155" REF="82">
was tran&s;mitted to the King, during the rage and fury of that war only; which proving of long continuance, that entru&s;ted Authority began to grow habitual, and could never hitherto be taken from him; &s;o that his Edicts &s;tand in lieu of Acts of Parliament. Out of the&s;e foregoing pre|mi&s;es this Conclu&s;ion may ea&s;ily be dedu|ced, <Q>That the principal Fountain whence the King derives his happine&s;s and &s;afe|ty, is the Parliament: It is the great Conduit-Pipe which conveys unto him his Peoples bounty and gratitude; the true&s;t Looking-gla&s;s wherein he di&s;|cerns their loves. Now the Subjects love hath been ever accounted the prime Ci|tadel of a Prince. In his Parliament he appears as the Sun in the Meridian, in the Altitude of his Glory, in his highe&s;t State-Royal, as the Law informs us.</Q> But le&s;t we &s;hould &s;pin out too long a thread, and &s;o wear the Readers Patience thread-bare, we will conclude this fir&s;t Book, and make the di&s;cour&s;e which we allot for the &s;cope and Subject of our next, run in another Channel.</P>
</DIV3>
<TRAILER>Finis Libri Primi.</TRAILER>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="book">
<PB REF="83">
<PB N="157" REF="83">
<HEAD>THE Second Book, TREATING Of KINGS, and their PREROGATIVE.</HEAD>
<DIV3 N="1" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. I.</HEAD>
<Q><L>EK <GAP DESC="foreign">&mdash;</L>
<L><HI>A Jove Principium&mdash;</HI></L></Q>
<P>In the Trinity we find Unity; Among the Orders of Angels there is an Archan|gel; The Heavens have their <HI>Primum mo|bile,</HI> and the Sun is their chief Luminary; The Bea&s;ts of the Fore&s;t have the Lion to their King; The Fowls of the Air, the
<PB N="158" REF="84">
Eagle: The Fi&s;h of the Sea a Soveraign; And &s;hall man only be Independent? <HI>Ab&s;it, Ab&s;it;</HI> let us therefore &s;ing with <HI>Homer:</HI>
<Q><L><GAP DESC="foreign"></L>
<L><GAP DESC="foreign">.</L></Q></P>
<P><Q>Kings (&s;aith one of our quondam Pen-men, though &s;ince an Apo&s;tate) are lively Repre&s;entations, living Statues or Pictures, drawn to the life of the great Deity: the&s;e Pictures, for their better continuance, are done in Oyl; the co|lours of the Crown never fade, they are no water-colours.</Q> They are Gods Vice|gerents here upon earth; nay, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Gho&s;t &s;ay, they are Gods, and would have them live as Gods. God the Father plain|ly affirms, <HI>Joh.</HI> 10. 34. <HI>Dixi dii e&s;t is: I have &s;aid ye are Gods.</HI> God the Son told <HI>Pilat<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter"> Thou &s;hould&s;t have no power, except it were (<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="2+ letters">ta de &s;uper) given from above.</HI> And I'm &s;ure the Holy Gho&s;t tells us, <HI>Per me Reges regnant; By me Kings reign,</HI> and not by the &s;uffrage of the people; for then it would have been <HI>per nos.</HI> They are the Lord's anointed, there|fore not to be touch'd or brought in que&s;ti|on by their Subjects: for all the failings in
<PB N="159" REF="84">
a King can but make him a bad King; but he remains a King &s;till. If indeed, as one &s;aith excellently, Kings held their Crowns by Indentures from the People, they were then di&s;obliged from their obedience to him upon his failing (in tho&s;e things whereunto he was &s;worn at his Coronati|on) on his part; but if they receive their Crowns immediately from God, and that by him alone Kings raign, as is &s;aid before, then they mu&s;t &s;till &s;tick clo&s;e to their Al|legiance, or el&s;e come off with the brand of Traytors. Our modern times have fur|ni&s;hed us with too many of that infernal rabble, who were &s;o helli&s;hly wicked and impious, as to fight again&s;t their lawful Soveraign; and having got him in their clutches, &s;lew him at his own door. But to the purpo&s;e.</P>
<P>The Athenians, (as <HI>Demo&s;thenes</HI> writes in his Oration again&s;t <HI>Neaera)</HI> when <HI>The&s;eus</HI> had contrived the model of their Com|monwealth, being accu&s;tomed to choo&s;e &s;ome one out of the number of the vertu|ous, by a general con&s;ent, manife&s;ted by holding up their hands, they elected him King. In ancient times, the election of Kings was ever held <HI>&s;acrum &amp; divinum quid,</HI> a certain holy and divine action
<PB N="160" REF="85">
among the very Heathens. <HI>Romulus,</HI> after the &s;ight of twelve Ravens (if we may cre|dit <HI>Livy)</HI> or rather becau&s;e the lightning had pierced his body from the left to the right &s;ide (as <HI>Diony&s;ius</HI> hath it) was by di|vination cho&s;en King; and that ordinance, called <HI>Jus Au&s;piciorum,</HI> was religiou&s;ly obeyed. Their authority hath been judged ever as divine as their election; for <HI>Homer</HI> and <HI>I&s;ocrates</HI> joyntly affirm, That he that governeth as a King, repre&s;ents the Deity. The Kings of <HI>Per&s;ia</HI> were honour'd as Gods, and the people believed that they were the &s;ole and ab&s;olute defenders of their Laws, Liberties, Lives, and Country. The ancient Latines called their Kings, <HI>Indigetes,</HI> that is, deified; (as <HI>Aeneas</HI> and <HI>Romulus</HI> were) who&s;e bodies after they were expired, could never be found. Kings are the Sons, not of the mo&s;t voices, but of the mo&s;t High; and as God is King of the whole Univer&s;e, &s;o are they Lords of the whole Commonwealth. About their skirts they have this Motto written by the finger of God, <HI>Touch not mine Anointed.</HI> Nor did ever any Church-man, Chri&s;tian Father or Expo&s;itor, obtrude any other &s;ence upon this Text, than that it was meant of Kings, till &s;uch time as the Puritan and Papi&s;t, both at a time, and
<PB N="161" REF="85">
that time bearing not above 100. years date, who began then to infect the world with this damnable doctrine, <HI>That it was Lawful to murder Kings.</HI> It is &s;trange that two &s;uch contrary factions, that had ever been antipathetical one to the other, &s;hould ne|verthele&s;s, like <HI>Herod</HI> and <HI>Pilate,</HI> agree in condemning the Lord's Anointed. <HI>Dieu &amp; mon Droit,</HI> is their Motto; <HI>God, and my Right:</HI> no body el&s;e have any thing to do with me. They have a <HI>Noli me tangere,</HI> to defend them from the a&s;&s;aults of rebellious Subjects.</P>
<P>Yet although Kings are counted God's Lieutenants, or Adjutant-Generals; the Council, Wi&s;dom, and Knowledge of Kings is not their own, but given them by God, who is the Author of every good and perfect gift, according to that ver&s;e of the Holy Pen-man:
<Q><L><GAP DESC="foreign"></L>
<L><GAP DESC="foreign">.&mdash;</L></Q></P>
<P>And &s;ince, I &s;ay, no King can with his own peculiar &s;tock of wi&s;dom govern his Kingdom rightly (for it is the prerogative of the Almighty only to know all things that appertain to good Government,)
<PB N="162" REF="86">
they have ever u&s;ed to call unto their aid and a&s;&s;i&s;tance &s;ome wi&s;e grave men, by who&s;e advice and coun&s;el the Kingdom might be well regulated. The&s;e men being as a mean between the King and the Peo|ple, do on the one hand, under&s;tand the Office of the King; and on the other, the Duty of the Subject; knowing what cour&s;e mu&s;t be taken for the pre&s;ervation of the Kings Honour and Royal Prerogative, and what belongs to the profit and benefit of his good and Loyal Subjects. Thus a King may govern all things well, not only by his own opinion, which may oftentimes prove deceitful; but by the general advice and coun&s;el of others, whereby his judgement and rea&s;on is brought to perfection. And as the hand divided into many fingers, is thereby made more &s;trong and apt to lay hold on all things; &s;o he that governs by the aid and a&s;&s;i&s;tance of Councellors, will manage all publike affairs, tending to the benefit of the Kingdom and Country whereof he is Soveraign, with the greater di&s;cretion and wi&s;dom: for a &s;ingle per&s;on is not able to manage all affairs without additionall help. <HI>Alexander,</HI> King of <HI>Ma|cedonia,</HI> conquered many Countries, and &s;ubjugated a multitude of Enemies. <HI>Pyrrhus</HI>
<PB N="163" REF="86">
was excellent at the choice of places for Fortification. <HI>Hannibal</HI> was often atten|ded with &s;ucce&s;s in Victory, but knew not how to make the be&s;t improvement of it:
<Q>Vincere &s;cis Hannibal, uti Victoria ne&s;cis.</Q></P>
<P><HI>Philopoemon</HI> was a brave Admiral at Sea; <HI>Cleon</HI> could manure lands and po&s;&s;e&s;|&s;ions; <HI>Cicero</HI> was a famous Orator; <HI>Pom|peius</HI> a valiant General; <HI>Cato</HI> a grave Sena|tor; and <HI>Scipio</HI> admirable both in peace and war. So were &s;everal others, that might be in&s;tanced: for every man (according to the Proverb) is a <HI>Ro&s;cius</HI> in his own Pro|fe&s;&s;ion. Now when &s;o many well-qualifi|ed <HI>Heroes</HI> are bound up together in Coun|cil, what a Con&s;tellation of Vertues will &s;hine and appear there? And what firm Edicts and good Laws will there be en|acted by them for the publick benefit and good of the Kingdom? which he is obliged to; for he is called <HI>Rex, &agrave; Regendo;</HI> but &s;ome will have it, <HI>&agrave; recte agendo.</HI> And it is clear, that one man cannot be &s;o clear fighted as to perceive all; which proves that ver&s;e of <HI>Homer</HI> to be true, rendred into Latine, thus:</P>
<PB N="164" REF="87">
<Q>Bini conveniunt melius rem per&s;picit alter.</Q>
<P>Nor doth this any waies dimini&s;h his power and authority; for though many convene, yet he is &s;till the head of them all, and hath a negative voice; nor can any Act be pa&s;s'd without his Royal a&s;&s;ent or ap|probation. It is taken <HI>pro confe&s;&s;o,</HI> that there is much care and vigilancy required in a Monarch; for, he mu&s;t not &s;eek &s;o much after his own profit, as the publike good and commodity of his People; he mu&s;t ob&s;erve the Laws, pre&s;erve the Rights and Liberty of his Subjects, and maintain the authority and reputation of his Senate. For Kings were fir&s;t of all in&s;tituted for the aid and a&s;&s;i&s;tance of the vertuous, again&s;t tho&s;e that are vicious: to them ab&s;olute power is tran&s;mitted, to the end that they may revenge injuries, and be ju&s;t Judges in all cau&s;es and legal proceedings. A good King ought to be as vigilant over tho&s;e whom Providence hath allotted him Su|preme, as a Shepherd is of his Flock. <HI>Ho|mer</HI> calls King <HI>Agamemnon,</HI> the &s;hepherd of the People; and <HI>Plato</HI> in imitation of him, the Shepherd and Con&s;erver of Mankind. Be&s;ides, he &s;hould govern his People, not
<PB N="165" REF="87">
as Ma&s;ters do their Servants, but as Pa|rents do their Children; with Paternal care, not with rigid &s;everity or cruelty. And as it is cu&s;tomary with indulgent Pa|rents, &s;ometimes to rebuke their Children, &s;ometimes to admoni&s;h and encourage them, and &s;ometimes al&s;o to correct and puni&s;h them; &s;o &s;hould a Prince behave him&s;elf toward his Subjects; ma|nife&s;ting him&s;elf &s;ometimes &s;evere, (when moved thereunto) and at other times gen|tle, affable and courteous, both for the pre|&s;ervation of his people, and the &s;afety of the Kingdom; defending and enlarging the <HI>bonum commune</HI> with no le&s;s care than a Fa|ther provides for the &s;u&s;tentation of his Children. This makes the difference be|tween Kings and Tyrants: the one is &s;tudi|ous for the publike good, the other for his own private profit. The end of the Tyrants endeavour is voluptuou&s;ne&s;s; but the Kings &s;tudy is honour: Riches are the mark at which a Tyrant levels, but Vertue is the true <HI>Meta</HI> of the King. Tyrants de|&s;ire the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of &s;trangers, but Kings are guarded by their own loyal Subjects. <HI>Alphon&s;us,</HI> King of <HI>Arragon,</HI> being deman|ded what Subjects of his he mo&s;t tenderly affected? an&s;wered, <HI>I love them better that</HI>
<PB N="166" REF="88">
<HI>love me, than tho&s;e that fear me.</HI> And not with|out rea&s;on did he thus expre&s;s him&s;elf: for fear is u&s;ually accompanied with ha|tred. A King is as &s;ecure by the love, good will and loyalty of his Subjects, as by the defence of Arms; and his Senators will &s;tand him in more &s;tead upon any occa&s;i|on, than a Tyrants Souldiers. <HI>Trajanus,</HI> that great Emperour of the World, did alwaies call the Senate, his Father: for, as the Fa|ther u&s;ually foretels the Son what may prove beneficial, and what injurious to him: &s;o the Senate coun&s;els the King, and in&s;tructs him how to con&s;erve his King|dom, and by what Laws and Ordinances it mu&s;t be governed. This is the only way to keep the King from Tyranny, and the Subject from Rebellion. Now tyranny in the one, with rebellion in the other, will &s;oon verifie that Dy&s;tich of the Satyri&s;t:
<Q><L>Adgenerum Cereris &s;ine caede, &amp; vulnere pauci</L>
<L>De&s;cendunt Reges, &amp; &s;icca morte Tyranni.</L></Q>
A good King knows how to irretiate and allure the hearts of the People to him by love and clemency, &s;ooner than by violence and compul&s;ion. And good people know their duty and obedience: and if the King
<PB N="167" REF="88">
through the &s;ins of the people be any way mi&s;guided, they will bite their nails, and not &s;cratch their heads; they know it is a crime inexplable, to quarrel with Maje|&s;ty: the only way to live happy in a King|dom, is this, fir&s;t, to give God, and then <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> his due. But when Kings grow ty|rannical, then there is little or no allegi|ance from the Subject, but what they are compelled to; whereas that is far more to be e&s;teemed, that flows naturally and vo|luntarily from the people; and this u&s;ual|ly &s;tirs them up to &s;edition, and &s;o con&s;e|quently to their utter ruine and de&s;tructi|on, and the downfal both of Kingdom and King: and the rea&s;on is, becau&s;e Tyrants u&s;e certain &s;leights and State-tricks to de|prive the Subject of liberty: Fir&s;t, by clearing the Country of all good and wi&s;e men, either by bani&s;hment, impri&s;onment, or death; becau&s;e the vertue of good men reproves them for their vice, and renders them odious; whenas all they aim at is on|ly to en&s;lave the Nation, to the intent that they may pro&s;ecute their own lu&s;t and plea&s;ure without ob&s;truction. Such coun|&s;el as this, <HI>Periander</HI> poy&s;oned <HI>Thrafibulus</HI> with; who by his infernal Rhetorick endeavoured to per&s;wade him to cut off the
<PB N="168" REF="89">
highe&s;t &s;pikes of corn; meaning thereby, that he &s;hould cau&s;e the cream of the Athe|nian Nobility to be executed. The like &s;ubtilty did <HI>Sextus Tarquinius,</HI> the Son of <HI>Lucius,</HI> follow; who being &s;uborned by his Father, pretended to be bani&s;hed, and fled fraudulently to the <HI>Gabii;</HI> where having &s;crap'd as much acquaintance as he judged convenient, &s;ent privily to his Father to know his will and plea&s;ure, and what far|ther was to be done in the bu&s;ine&s;s for his &s;atisfaction: who conducted the Me&s;&s;en|ger into the garden, where walking toge|ther, he with a wand in his hand &s;trook off all the heads of the Poppies before him; which being by the <HI>Nuncio</HI> reported to his Son, who had helli&s;h wit enough to under|&s;tand &s;uch damnable my&s;teries, &s;oon put the chief of the Nobility to death, and by force and inju&s;tice u&s;urped the Government of the Commonwealth, and deprived the Sub|jects of their liberty. Another knack they have to prejudice their Subjects, by inhibi|ting their meetings, conventions and con|ferences, to prevent their &s;tudy of hone&s;t di&s;cipline. Nay, farther, they often &s;ow di&s;cord among the people, to the end that filled with hate and private di&s;plea&s;ure, they may be &s;tirred up to civil war and
<PB N="169" REF="89">
&s;edition; who being thereby much impo|veri&s;hed, and the war cea&s;ing, are compel|led to pay for their pardon; and being af|ter this manner fleeced both waies of their money, and reduced to poverty, become ba&s;e minded, and altogether unfit to de|fend their Lives, Laws, or Liberties. The&s;e, and many more that might be numerated, are the plots and devices of Tyrants; all which, they imagine, tend to their own be|nefit, and to the promoting of their ambi|tious de&s;igns; whenas oftentimes it proves quite contrary, to their own ruine and per|&s;onal de&s;truction: for if they mount them|&s;elves too often on the Subjects galled back, they will undoubtedly ca&s;t their rider, let him be never &s;o expert a Hor&s;eman. But Kings are of a quite contrary temper and di&s;po&s;ition: it is the good, and not the ruine of their Subjects they labour for; becau&s;e they under&s;tand &s;ufficiently, that the lo&s;s of Subjects is the &s;haking off of their Crowns; and wanting their protection, they are left unarm'd to the mercy of the in&s;ulting enemy. But we will now leave the lofty Subject of Kings to the fancy of a more &s;ublime wit, and the work of a more noble quill; and come to our &s;econd Chap|ter, which treats of the divi&s;ion of Com|monweals.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="2" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="170" REF="90">
<HEAD>CHAP. II.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Of the divi&s;ion of Commonweals and King|doms.</HEAD>
<P>THe diver&s;ity of Republicks proceeds not from Fortune, or Chance-medley, nor the di&s;po&s;ition of the Heavens, or the influence of the Stars upon things &s;ubluna|ry; but every Government is framed ac|cording to the minds, tempers, and con&s;ti|tutions of men, their wits and education; though &s;ome a&s;cribe their variety to the &s;ituation of the Country or Climate where men have their allotted re&s;idence and bee|ing. It is confe&s;t, that &s;ometimes, through &s;edition, faction, and civil war; Kingdoms are &s;ubverted, and changed into States; for the proof whereof we need not ramble far, &s;ince our native rebellions have lately ma|nife&s;ted the truth hereof. Such is the flu|ctuating condition of all worldly things, that mi&s;chance waits at the elbow of good fortune, and vice is masked with vertue, that &s;he may not appear in her own native hew and deformity; for Man is prone to for&s;ake v<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="3+ letters">ue and embrace vice, which ever hood|winks
<PB N="171" REF="90">
him with an appearance of good. Sometimes al&s;o it falls out, that well-go|verned Republicks, through evill Mini&s;ters, are either utterly extingui&s;hed, or altered into other forms of Government. Hence it happens, that Kingdoms become Tyran|nies, <HI>Optimacies</HI> come under the juri&s;diction of a few; Popular States are perverted in|to licentious liberty, and from that reduced into Tyranny; and this is the revolution of their Government, and original of their Cata&s;trophe. <HI>Plato</HI> writes, that the muta|tion of Commonweals is fatal, through the di&s;po&s;ition of the Heavens, and the operation or influence of Coele&s;tial bodies upon Terre&s;trial. But as we have already in&s;tanced, their variation happens from the variety of the minds of the Inhabi|tants. For &s;ome Countries abound with rich, others are cram'd with poor men. In &s;ome, there is &s;tore of Nobles, Souldiers and Husbandmen; in others, plenty of Merchants, Handicraft&s;men and Artifi|cers. Now, where&s;oever the number of Merchants, Artificers and Husbandmen &s;urmount the re&s;t, that State u&s;ually be|commeth Popular: But where there is the greate&s;t quantity of rich men, there is e&s;tabli&s;hed the government of a few.
<PB N="172" REF="91">
Where the major part of Citizens be good, wi&s;e and vertuous, that State is apt to be governed as an Optimacy. There are three things (&s;aith <HI>Ari&s;totle)</HI> that contend for priority in Government: Liberty, Ri|ches and Vertue. For, Nobility (which &s;upplies the fourth place) is the a&s;&s;ociate of vertue and riches, becau&s;e the equal mixture of rich and poor men, make a Po|pular State. A faction of rich men, is cal|led, the Government of a few; and the con|&s;ent of all three, <HI>viz.</HI> Freemen, rich men, and good men, is counted an Optimacie: &s;uch was the Carthaginian Republick; for Rich men, Good men, and Noblemen were therein equally e&s;teemed. Now, it is the di&s;po&s;ition and de&s;ire of &s;ome men to live, in Kingdoms rather than in any other State; who are &s;uch men as are naturally ambitious of honour, vertuous, and fitted for action. The <HI>Cappadocians</HI> having enjoy|ed Kings for many years (who&s;e Race was at length extingui&s;hed) were profered by the Romans to have their State converted into popular Liberty; but they refu&s;ed it: whereupon they appointed <HI>Ariobar&s;anes,</HI> their friend, King of <HI>Cappadocia.</HI> The Athe|nians followed the quite contrary cour&s;e; for they affecting a Popular State, would
<PB N="173" REF="91">
not allow of the Government by one, nor many. Yea, &s;ome there are that approve of Tyrannical Government mo&s;t of all; as the <HI>Siculi</HI> of old, who were ever accu&s;to|med to be ruled by Tyrants, and &s;o were almo&s;t all the people of <HI>A&s;ia;</HI> who being naturally &s;ervile, are even to this Age &s;ub|ject to tyrannical Government. Now, if any man demand, What a Common|wealth is? This doubt cannot ari&s;e from the name, it being a certain order among the Inhabitants a&s;&s;embled together in one City or Country, and there re&s;iding; but from the variety and difference of Repub|licks: for as mens manners, delights and e&s;tates be various, &s;o al&s;o is the Govern|ment of Commonweals manifold. And though the <HI>Terminus ad quem,</HI> or end, is one and the &s;ame, <HI>viz. bonum,</HI> good; yet the <HI>Terminus d quo,</HI> or means whereby they a&s;pire to that good, are various, and &s;o con|&s;equently the Laws and Cu&s;toms are of &s;undry &s;orts that are by them u&s;ed. For, he that &s;hall compare the Laws of <HI>Hippo|damus</HI> enacted for the <HI>Miletians,</HI> with tho&s;e of <HI>Minos</HI> made for the <HI>Candians;</HI> or the Ordinances of <HI>Lycurgus,</HI> with the Decrees of <HI>Solon,</HI> the one writing of the Lacedae|monian, the other of the Athenian Go|vernment,
<PB N="174" REF="92">
may with facility under&s;tand their Laws to be divers, their Magi&s;trates unlike, and the Form of their States very di&s;crepant. The &s;even Wi&s;e wen <HI>(Thales</HI> excepted, who did not care for fi&s;hing in the troubled waters of State-affairs) intro|duced &s;everal exerci&s;es, Laws and Govern|ments according to the peoples capacity, and their own pecular fancies, and by &s;un|dry orders and u&s;es did execute them. Which variety of Government hath mini|&s;tred matter of great controver&s;ie and con|trariety of opinion; In&s;omuch, that the Learned, as well in our, as forrain Schools and Univer&s;ities, have a&s;&s;umed the di&s;pu|tation of the &s;everal &s;orts of Common|weals, and confined them to a certain num|ber; be&s;ides, they have manife&s;ted which of them de&s;erve the greate&s;t commendati|on, and ought to be embraced. <HI>Plato</HI> and <HI>Aristotle</HI> &s;eem to excell all per&s;ons that ever wrote on this Subject: For they with &s;olid judgement, and great re&s;pect to the nature of men, and the temperature of the Regi|on or Climate, have di&s;creetly appointed Laws and Governments &s;uitable to the di&s;po&s;ition and temper of the Inhabitants: therefore according to the opinion of the&s;e two famous Philo&s;ophers, we will di&s;cour&s;e
<PB N="175" REF="92">
of three &s;orts of Republicks: The fir&s;t is called, <HI>Monarchia;</HI> The &s;econd, <HI>Ari&s;tocratia;</HI> And the third, <HI>Democratia;</HI> which the La|tines term, <HI>Regnum, Optimatum Principatus, &amp; Popularis Re&s;publica.</HI> The Supreme Go|vernour of all things, by his Providence di|vine, hath &s;o ordered, that the faculties or powers of man's mind &s;hould re&s;ide in three parts of his body, repre&s;enting there|by three <HI>Idaea's</HI> or Forms of Republicks; con&s;tituting Rea&s;on as &s;ole Monarch, or Lord Paramount of them all, to remain in the head, being the highe&s;t part. The &s;e|cond part, as mo&s;t vigilant and apt to obey, he hath placed near unto it, in the brea&s;t, creating it a companion and helper to the head; which <HI>Plato</HI> calls, <HI>Vim ira&s;cendi,</HI> or <HI>affectuum &s;edem.</HI> The third, re&s;embling a rude multitude, witle&s;s, froward, and full of &s;en&s;ual de&s;ires, harbours beneath the heart, far remote from the other. In the&s;e parts of the &s;oul, as in a Mirrour or Look|ing-gla&s;s, we may &s;py out three &s;orts of Commonweals. The highe&s;t &s;upplies the place of King, as de&s;tined and appointed to exerci&s;e authority over all. The &s;econd, though in place inferiour, yet in quality is of no le&s;s regard, being well obeyed: for, where Rea&s;on &s;waies without the aid and
<PB N="176" REF="93">
a&s;&s;i&s;tance of the affections, all actions are weak and impotent. Ju&s;t &s;o a Senate want|ing the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of Rea&s;on, which deports her &s;elf partly as Captain, partly as a Soul|dier in all actions and con&s;ultations, be|comes timorous and effeminate. <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> hath therefore made a divi&s;ion of the pow|er of Rea&s;on, making one part ab&s;olute and &s;tanding upon its own Guard, and the other, as it were, depending and &s;ub&s;ervi|ent, like a Son that obeyeth the Father. Which <HI>Titus Livius</HI> hath &s;ignificantly ex|pre&s;&s;ed, in &s;etting forth the errour of <HI>Minu|tius</HI> in his unadvi&s;ed fight again&s;t <HI>Hannibal,</HI> which <HI>Fabius</HI> reprehends in the&s;e or the like words: <HI>Souldiers</HI> (&s;aith he) <HI>I have of|ten heard, that he that of him&s;elf can rightly judge, de&s;erves the greate&s;t commendation: next unto him are they, that know how to &s;ub&s;cribe to the good advice of others: But he that can nei|ther coun&s;el, nor follow the coun&s;el of others, is but an inch on this &s;ide a Natural, and of a very &s;hallow capacity.</HI> The third part of man's mind re&s;embles a Popular Government, wherein the multitude hath authority to hear all cau&s;es, and determine or decide all controver&s;ies, though many conte&s;ts ari&s;e from hence to the prejudice both of the Country and Inhabitants.</P>
<P><PB N="177" REF="93">
<HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> writes al&s;o, that the Image or repre&s;entation of Republicks may be found out in private families; for the au|thority of the Father over his Children may be compared to Principality; becau&s;e Children are the Parents charge; he alone mu&s;t provide for them all, and their faults are cha&s;ti&s;ed, rather than &s;everely puni&s;hed by him; &s;o ought a good King to demean him&s;elf toward his good Subjects. There|fore <HI>Jupiter,</HI> the God of Gods and Men, is by <HI>Homer</HI> &s;tyled Father. The Husbands au|thority over the Wife may be compared to <HI>Optimacie;</HI> for the Husband ought to rule his Wife according to Ju&s;tice, and command nothing but what may endure the te&s;t of the Laws of God and man. The State Po|pular is a&s;&s;imilated to brotherly Society; for they ought to live in equality, differing only in the degrees of Age. And as the Father that u&s;eth rigour and cruelty to|wards his Children, is judged a Tyrant, and no Father; &s;o that King, that by the oppre&s;&s;ion of the Subject endeavours to en|crea&s;e his private intere&s;t, contemning all Laws, and living di&s;honourably, puts off his King&s;hip, and is called Tyrant. A Hu&s;|band and Wife living in di&s;cord, either through negligence, or ob&s;tinacy, rejecting
<PB N="178" REF="94">
the care of their Children, and dome&s;tick affairs, do thereby abu&s;e their authority, and become unworthy the name of natural Parents; &s;o <HI>Optimacie</HI> abu&s;ed, de&s;erves not that title. In like manner Brethren di&s;a|greeing, neglecting their mutual profit, ad|dicting them&s;elves to &s;loath and la&s;civiou&s;|ne&s;s, are not to be accounted Brethren; no more is a Popular State &s;o to be e&s;tee|med, if of &s;uch a temper. Thus it is appa|rent, that through the default and incon&s;i|deratene&s;s of Superiors, true Common|weals are converted into fal&s;e and contrary Governments. Policy, which by the Grae|cians is called, <GAP DESC="foreign">, and by <HI>Plato</HI> and <HI>Ari&s;totle, Re&s;publica popularis,</HI> may be refer|red to all &s;orts of Republicks; becau&s;e that word is univer&s;al, and includes all civil Go|vernment. <HI>Plato</HI> adds another kind of Go|vernment, that is, a King &s;ubject to his Laws; making Monarchy of two &s;orts, and con&s;equently two Kings; the one bound and confined, the other free, and not re|&s;trained to any Law: this is his opinion of Monarchy, though not ours.</P>
<P>But now let us di&s;cour&s;e of the be&s;t &s;ort of Republicks, though it be a very hard task: to the accompli&s;hment of which in|tended work, it is requi&s;ite that a man
<PB N="179" REF="94">
under&s;tand the be&s;t kind and order of life; for otherwi&s;e a perfect Commonwealth cannot be conceived: but what &s;ort of life merits the reputation of the be&s;t, as yet <HI>la|tet in ob&s;curo</HI> among the major part of Phi|lo&s;ophers. The Epicures, Stoicks and Peri|pateticks are of different opinions concern|ing this &s;ubject, and have divided the world by the variety of their Sects and whim&s;ies. But our intent is to concur with the Peri|pateticks, becau&s;e their Schools have been the greate&s;t Nur&s;eries of good Governours. The Stoicks, that did ever wed them&s;elves to an au&s;tere life, ground their felicity up|on Vertue only; which we di&s;approve not, &s;o that they con&s;ent, that external goods, which both Nature and Fortune have made for the u&s;e of man, to the end he may thereby be the better accommodated, be joyned thereunto as nece&s;&s;ary additaments; otherwi&s;e he cannot be perfect: and &s;eeing that man's felicity is numbred among things that are perfect, and that thing is only perfect that wants nothing; &s;urely, who&s;oever de&s;ires to be happy, mu&s;t nece&s;|&s;arily be fully furni&s;hed, &s;o that his felicity may be ab&s;olute, and no way deficient. Riches are very nece&s;&s;ary; the liberal per|&s;on &s;tands in need of money to perform the
<PB N="180" REF="95">
actions of Liberality, and the ju&s;t man mu&s;t therewith reward and make &s;atisfaction. The Warriour wants it; for according to the Poet,
<Q><L><GAP DESC="foreign">.</L>
<L>Argent is pugna telis, ac omnia vinces.</L></Q></P>
<P>Now the Epicure, he placeth his <HI>&s;um|mum bonum</HI> in &s;en&s;ual delights and plea|&s;ures; which is more becoming a bea&s;t, than a man. Whereas <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> makes a joynt agreement of Vertue, and other additional ornaments, or external helps, mo&s;t nece&s;&s;ary for a well-regulated per&s;on.</P>
<P>Philo&s;ophers affirm, that there are three &s;orts of life: The fir&s;t, con&s;i&s;teth in Action; The &s;econd, in Contemplation; And the third, in Plea&s;ure. That which re&s;teth in Action, if not accompanied with wi&s;dom and vertue, proveth unprofitable, and is &s;ubject to many vices and imperfections. That which is employed in Contempla|tion, not being accompanied with Action, is vain and ineffectual. For, as he that boldly looks upon the Sun when in the Me|ridian of his lu&s;tre, is made blind with his vehement heat and tralucent &s;plendor: &s;o the mind of man, continually occupied
<PB N="181" REF="95">
with the &s;peculation of &s;ublime my&s;teries, becomes &s;tupid, heavy, and langui&s;hing. He therefore that de&s;ires the name of ver|tuous, mu&s;t lead a civil as well as a philo|&s;ophical, an active as well as a contempla|tive life; the mixture of which two, makes man happy and fortunate. But he that de|lights only in &s;en&s;uality, ab&s;olutely forget|ting that he was ever qualified with the gift of rea&s;on, may be &s;aid to repre&s;ent man, as to his outward complexion or blu&s;h; but he wants the true and proper nature of man.</P>
<P>Hence ari&s;eth the diver&s;ity of mankind; for &s;ome are born free, noble, wi&s;e, and fit for government; others, &s;ervile, boori&s;h, witle&s;s, de&s;tined to &s;ervitude and bondage. <HI>Plato</HI> hath it, that God in Man's Creation had &s;o ordered, that in the generation of tho&s;e that are apt to govern, he hath mixed gold; of them that are appointed as a&s;&s;i|&s;tant to Governours, &s;ilver; And the nature of Plough-men and Artizans is compoun|ded with Bra&s;s and Iron: which &s;imilitude <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> applies to the manners and capa|cities of men. For, although every man doth naturally de&s;ire that his children &s;hould re&s;emble him; yet it often happens, that &s;ilver is the i&s;&s;ue of gold, and &s;ome
<PB N="182" REF="96">
metal of a more inferiour allay, the i&s;&s;ue of &s;ilver. It is therefore very requi&s;ite, that Princes pry into the nature of their Chil|dren, that they may under&s;tand their di&s;po|&s;ition; and they that are like Iron may be converted into gold; or that proving impo&s;|&s;ible, the government may be allotted to others: for it hath been oraculou&s;ly pro|phe&s;ied, that tho&s;e Countries that are go|verned by Bra&s;s and Iron, &s;hould peri&s;h and come to confu&s;ion.</P>
<P>But now as to <HI>Optimacie,</HI> it con&s;i&s;ts in a certain number of vertuous Citizens (or at lea&s;t &s;hould) becau&s;e they govern the Republick according to the Rules and E|dicts of the Law; whereas in popular States all things are contrarily managed: for Liberty being the end thereof, the State is ruled according to will and popular fu|ry, without the con&s;ideration of vertue or rea&s;on. In &s;uch Cities, men are called good, becau&s;e they are profitable or bene|ficial to the Commonwealth, not for their being endowed with hone&s;ty, which con|&s;i&s;ts in the action of vertue; &s;o that vertue there is mea&s;ured by publike profit, not ho|ne&s;ty; for Popular Ju&s;tice, called <HI>Jus popu|lare,</HI> is where honour is conferred upon per&s;ons, not according to the vertue of him
<PB N="183" REF="96">
that receiveth, but the number of tho&s;e that give it; who think tho&s;e things to be mo&s;t equitable, that are &s;o according to the Vogue of the multitude, not as Ju&s;tice in|&s;tructs us; and that to be honourable, which hath the repute of popular fame, or approbation of the Multitude. And though it mu&s;t nece&s;&s;arily be granted, that there is corruption in all Republicks; yet is it frequently known in Popular States, and that more than in any other kind of Government: for if any man well-princi|pled chance to have his re&s;idence or abode in any &s;uch State, and he out of natural rea&s;on only di&s;gu&s;t the Plebeian in&s;olency, and by admonition, reprehen&s;ion and cor|rection &s;trives to reduce the Citizens or In|habitants to a more vertuous and religious cour&s;e of life, he is in&s;tantly branded with the name of an enemy to the State, and ar|re&s;ted by the Law of <HI>O&s;traci&s;me;</HI> and many times it falls out, that he comes to executi|on. Many famous Citizens of the popular States of <HI>Greece</HI> were hereby afflicted, as <HI>Aristides, Thucydides, Socrates, Themi&s;tocles</HI> and <HI>Damon;</HI> and at <HI>Rome, Camillus</HI> and <HI>Sci|pio</HI> had the &s;ame mea&s;ure dealt them. <HI>Ari|&s;tides</HI> de&s;erves a monument that may en|dure to perpetuity, for his &s;ingular vertue
<PB N="184" REF="97">
and wi&s;dom; who for his integrity of life and conver&s;ation, was &s;irnamed <HI>Ju&s;tus.</HI> And at that time when the Law of <HI>O&s;traci&s;me</HI> was in force among the Athenians, a rude, boori&s;h, beef-brain'd fellow, with a &s;crole of paper in his hand, chanced to meet him, who with much importunacy would have forced him to write his name therein. <HI>Ari|&s;tides</HI> being a&s;toni&s;hed at his earne&s;t and &s;trange reque&s;t; asked him, <HI>Whether any man could ever &s;ay he had injured any per&s;on? No,</HI> (replied the fellow) <HI>all the rea&s;on that prompts me to my demand, is only this, I &s;tomach your Sirname,</HI> Ju&s;tus. It is reported by <HI>Cicero,</HI> that the <HI>Ephe&s;i,</HI> at the bani&s;hment of their Prince, <HI>Hermodorus,</HI> pronounced this Sen|tence: <HI>Let us not excel one another; and if any do contrary to what is herein &s;pecified or mentioned, he &s;hall no longer re&s;ide among us, but must procure &s;ome other dwelling place.</HI> Strange Cu&s;toms of Popular States! <HI>Plato</HI> (as we have already in&s;tanced) &s;aith, <HI>That no State can be long liv'd that is governed by Iron or Bra&s;s;</HI> that is, by phanatick or infa|tuated per&s;ons; who being altogether unfit for Government, &s;eem to be born to di|&s;turb, rather than obey. For they, after &s;ome petty or imaginary &s;ucce&s;s at war, growing in&s;olent and tympanous, have
<PB N="185" REF="97">
alwaies &s;ome flattering Tutors, and collo|guing popular Captains to extol their Ver|tues, ready at hand; who immediately up|on this allured, or rather caught with the golden bait of glory, reject the authority of their wi&s;e governours, rebelling again&s;t their Superiours, and &s;o u&s;urping their lawful power, take it into their hands, and manage it according to their own corrupt wills and depraved judgements; which is the cau&s;e that &s;uch States &s;oon expire, and that oftentimes in their very infancy: for through the diver&s;ity of minds and opini|ons among them, they become void of coun&s;el; and after a continued &s;eries (if it la&s;t any con&s;iderable time) of in&s;olency, contention and faction, they become &s;ub|mi&s;&s;ive either to a few, or el&s;e to &s;ome &s;in|gle per&s;on. Thus did the Athenians, who having obtained the victory in a memora|ble Sea-fight again&s;t the <HI>Medes,</HI> bladder'd up with pride from their &s;ucce&s;s herein, it cau&s;ed &s;edition and tumultuation in that State, notwith&s;tanding the contrary endeavours of the more &s;ober to prevent it. Nay, the original of States Popular &s;ome|times ari&s;eth from rebellion attempted a|gain&s;t the Royal Party, as it frequently happened at <HI>Rome:</HI> and at other times it
<PB N="186" REF="98">
falls out, when the people through tyranny are exa&s;perated, and made de&s;perate by the rigour of their Princes or Governours; for then by force of arms again&s;t their King, they begin to mould a new-fa&s;hioned Government among them&s;elves; which the <HI>Swi&s;&s;es,</HI> not many years &s;ince, have done. As to Oligarchy or Tyranny, we &s;hall not extend our di&s;cour&s;e, but pa&s;s them by, be|cau&s;e we judge &s;uch kind of Government to be altogether unju&s;t, in&s;upportable, and quite contrary to a vertuous and civill life.</P>
<P>Now, as to the di&s;covery of the mo&s;t notable and imitable Commonweals and Kingdoms in the habitable World, that &s;hall be the &s;ubject of our en&s;uing Chap|ter.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="3" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. III.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Wherein is contained the various Forms of the mo&s;t memorable and famous Commonweals and Kingdoms in the World.</HEAD>
<P>THe excellency and pre-eminency of every Nation or Republick may ea&s;ily be under&s;tood by the Government and
<PB N="187" REF="98">
Laws therein practi&s;ed and exerci&s;ed: for tho&s;e are judged the be&s;t, that direct the cour&s;e of their life according to ju&s;tice and equity, and not the peculiar w<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">im&s;ies of their own natural fancy; and con&s;tantly per&s;evere therein, without &s;o much as the appearance of change or variation: it is an apparent and clear argument of female frailty, far derogating from the dignity of Man, to be &s;o fickle and incon&s;tant, as to &s;eek after variety; but to be fix'd and grounded, is an argument of a noble re&s;o|lution.</P>
<P>And fir&s;t, as for the Commonwealth of <HI>Plato,</HI> we &s;hall pa&s;s that by, becau&s;e it is u&s;ually &s;aid, that &s;uch a Government as his, neither is, hath been, nor &s;hall be hereafter.</P>
<P>The Athenian Republick was fir&s;t made as followeth: That People being di&s;per|&s;ed, and haunting the woods and fields like brute Animals, were fir&s;t by <HI>Cecrops,</HI> and af|ter by <HI>The&s;eus</HI> confined to a City, which was then called <HI>Cecropia,</HI> now <HI>Athens,</HI> and at length reduced to a Kingdom, de&s;cenda|ble to their Po&s;terity. But what authority the Senate had under tho&s;e Kings (which order did repre&s;ent the <HI>Optimacie)</HI> cannot be manife&s;ted or apparently known, by
<PB N="188" REF="99">
rea&s;on of the length of time, and multi|tude of years &s;ince elap&s;ed, as al&s;o the paucity of tho&s;e Writers that have any waies di&s;cour&s;ed thereon. Yet we mu&s;t be|lieve, that Kings had in tho&s;e daies their Sages or Wi&s;emen about them, and made u&s;e of their coun&s;el in the management of their political affairs. The Kings of that Age (as <HI>Thucydides</HI> writes) did rule by con&s;ent of People, and with their &s;uffra|ges did many times determine tho&s;e things whereof they them&s;elves were doubtful. Yet that Government was of &s;hort continu|ance; for, in tract of time (which alte|reth all things) it was committed to the multitude, who&s;e force and power did ut|terly &s;ubvert the Commonwealth.</P>
<P>The Lacedaemonian State &s;eemed to contain all the three &s;orts of Government, <HI>viz.</HI> King, Nobles, and People; the No|bles were their Senators, and the People were the <HI>Ephori;</HI> for they were alwaies elected out of the number of popular men. Now the Lacedaemonians are very much extolled, in that for the &s;pace of &s;even hun|dred years compleat, they have continued without any alteration of their Laws, Cu|&s;toms, or Government. But the Venetians in that re&s;pect may challenge a greater por|tion
<PB N="189" REF="99">
of glory, for they have till this very pre&s;ent Age of ours con&s;tantly lived under one Form of Government and Governours the &s;pace of one thou&s;and years, and better.</P>
<P>Now the Venetians in framing their Republick, do include within the name of People, Gentlemen and Citizens; being very careful to oppo&s;e any other, if he pre|&s;ume or dare u&s;urp that title, becau&s;e they only are capable of Magi&s;tracy. The Se|nate is cho&s;en out of that number that re|pre&s;ents an <HI>Optimacie,</HI> and is the foundati|on, as it were, of that State. The Duke is elected out of that number that re&s;emble Kings.</P>
<P><HI>Polybius</HI> doth very much extol the Ro|man Monarchy, becau&s;e it was made up of the King, Nobility and People; &s;uppo&s;ing that by this means the King for fear of the People dur&s;t not become in&s;olent; and the People, out of re&s;pect to the Senate, dur&s;t not di&s;obey the King. Which Form of Re|publick is accounted mo&s;t ju&s;t. For as per|fect harmony is made up of Treble, Mean, and Ba&s;e; &s;o the be&s;t and &s;ure&s;t agreement among men, and the mo&s;t &s;table Govern|ment, is e&s;tabli&s;hed by the mixture of the Be&s;t, the Mean, and the Ba&s;e people.</P>
<P><HI>Romulus</HI> (&s;aith <HI>Livy)</HI> being (as we have
<PB N="190" REF="100">
already mentioned) by con&s;ent both of God and men elected King, though the State was then but an <HI>Embryo,</HI> refu&s;ed to have the reins of Government lie altogether upon his own &s;houlders, and did therefore call unto his a&s;&s;i&s;tance one hundred Sena|tors, who out of re&s;pect to their Age and Gravity, were called Fathers. And le&s;t the People &s;hould &s;uppo&s;e that they were hereby deluded, mi&s;led, and defrauded of all honour, and thereby envy and maligni|ty might en&s;ue, to the prejudice of the King or Senate; He made them Judges, and gave them full power and authority to &s;it and determine War, and conclude peace, with many other priviledges there|unto annexed. And if this model of Go|vernment had &s;till continued in <HI>Rome,</HI> there had not been &s;o great an effu&s;ion of bloud in a&s;piring after Liberty and enlarging the Territories of the Roman Empire; Nor had the happine&s;s of that Country been &s;haken with &s;o many &s;editions, which did at length work her ruine and de&s;olati|on: for &s;he was ob&s;erved to be very little acquainted with peace all the time &s;he &s;tood upon her own legs, ever &s;ince &s;he was able to go alone.</P>
<P>But now let us take the Governments of
<PB N="191" REF="100">
our Age into con&s;ideration; and fir&s;t, of the French Monarchy; which owns a King, who rules <HI>ad placitum,</HI> at his own di&s;cretion: and although his authority come not under the la&s;h of the Law, yet like an honoura|ble and ju&s;t Prince, he acts nothing contra|ry to Law, or Honour. In his Kingdom, the Noblemen, which they call Peers, re|pre&s;ent an <HI>Optimacie:</HI> the People are divi|ded into three &s;orts; Gentlemen, Clergy-men, and the popular Multitude; and a choice number of the&s;e three a&s;&s;embled to|gether by the Kings Edict or Command, determine matters of greate&s;t importance in the Kingdom. This Council was anci|ently called <HI>Panceltium,</HI> as the <HI>Aetolians</HI> na|med theirs <HI>Panaetolium,</HI> and the univer&s;al Council of the Ionians was termed <HI>Panio|nium;</HI> though &s;ince, as we have already hinted, by rea&s;on of the Engli&s;h wars there, the King got all authority into his own hands, &s;o that his word carries as much force and validity with it, as the for|mer acts of Parliament, which were their three E&s;tates conven'd and met together.</P>
<P>As for the Spani&s;h Monarchy, the King there hath Soveraign authority and power; the Council-Royal repre&s;ents an <HI>Optimacie;</HI> and the three prime Orders of Knighthood
<PB N="192" REF="101">
may be compared to the popular State. For the Order of St <HI>Jago, Collatrava,</HI> and <HI>Alcantara,</HI> a&s;&s;embled with the King, decide the mo&s;t important State-controver&s;ies and affairs.</P>
<P>The Monarchy of <HI>Polonia</HI> con&s;i&s;ts like|wi&s;e of the&s;e three &s;orts, <HI>i. e.</HI> The King, No|bility and People; but it is to be noted, that this word People here, denotes only Knights and Gentlemen. The Union and Fellow&s;hip of the&s;e orders is &s;o admirable, that the King without the advice of his Council and their authority, can do no|thing; nor can the Council determine without the King's approbation, and the Peoples con&s;ent. In this Kingdom, the Laws are of &s;o great force, that every man religiou&s;ly &s;wears to keep and ob&s;erve them; and if any per&s;on act contrary to that Oath, he is accounted unju&s;t and im|pious. Now that Oath by which they &s;wear to be &s;trict in the ob&s;ervance of their Laws and Liberty, is in their vernacular language called, <HI>Captue;</HI> which is as much as <HI>Tegmen capitis</HI> in Latine: for, as the head is kept in health, and pre&s;erved from the injury of the nipping weather, by being covered; &s;o by vertue of that Oath, their Laws, Lives, and Liberties are con&s;erved; and to main|tain
<PB N="193" REF="101">
it, no man is &s;o fearful, as not to venture his life again&s;t Tyrants, and all &s;uch as en|deavour to cut the wings of publick Liber|ty and Happine&s;s. This people enjoy great freedom; being principled with this per|&s;wa&s;ion, that to live according to the dire|ction of the Law, is the mo&s;t ab&s;olute Li|berty in the World. In this Kingdom, the Prince follows not the <HI>dictamen</HI> of his own will and fancy, but &s;ticks clo&s;e to the Rule of the Law. In waging war, or concluding peace, he makes u&s;e of his Council; never tran&s;gre&s;&s;ing Law: which works this effect, that the Kings per&s;on is not only honoured among the people, but had in high reve|rence and e&s;timation; &s;o that he may be &s;aid to be adored, rather than obeyed. And who indeed is there, that would not entire|ly love, honour, re&s;pect, and reverence that Prince, that in governing &s;teers him&s;elf by the <HI>Cyno&s;ure</HI> of the Law, contented to be led by the Line of rea&s;on, directing him&s;elf in all his undertakings, according to the prudent and grave advice of his Senators? Authority thus u&s;ed, creates a general love, liking and con&s;ent among the Subjects. To conclude, the King of <HI>Polonia</HI> &s;eems &s;uch a Prince, as <HI>Plato, Aristotle, Xenophon,</HI> and o|ther Legi&s;lators have de&s;ired to bear &s;way
<PB N="194" REF="102">
in all well-regulated Commonweals and Kingdoms, and &s;uch as both God and Na|ture approve. The Senate here bears the Image of <HI>Optimacy,</HI> and hath much power and authority; for they being cho&s;en out of the wi&s;er &s;ort of Nobles, they only, I &s;ay, con&s;ult with the King about State-af|fairs. Their authority is not unlike the <HI>Ho|motimi</HI> of <HI>Per&s;ia,</HI> or the <HI>Ephori</HI> of <HI>Lacedaemo|nia.</HI> The Gentlemen of <HI>Polonia</HI> re&s;emble the Popular State; for on them is impo&s;ed a great part of the Government, and may be &s;aid to be as a Seminary from whence i&s;&s;ue both Coun&s;ellors and Kings.</P>
<P>The Empire of <HI>Germany</HI> con&s;i&s;ts of the Emperour, Princes, and People; which being governed by divers Potentates, and their policy being &s;cattered into &s;undry Governments, comes not ea&s;ily within the reach of a conci&s;e de&s;cription.</P>
<P>The quondam Kingdom of <HI>Britain,</HI> now called <HI>England,</HI> obeyeth one King; who ele|cteth Senators, unto whom the re&s;idue of Nobles, and &s;ome of the Popular Order being joyned, make one Common Coun|cil, which is called in our <HI>Idiom,</HI> a Parlia|ment. But native mode&s;ty forbids us to proceed any farther upon this &s;ubject; who&s;e <HI>Encomia's</HI> we judge to be a Theme
<PB N="195" REF="102">
far more &s;uitable to a forrain Pen.</P>
<P>One difficulty there remains &s;till, the re|&s;olution whereof we have re&s;erved for the clo&s;e of this Chapter; and that is this; What a Citizen is, which we have &s;o much all along di&s;cour&s;ed of? To which we an&s;wer:</P>
<P>That this word Citizen hath had &s;everal acceptations among Writers. Some have called the whole number of Inhabitants by the name of Citizens. Others, only tho&s;e that are de&s;cended of Noble and free-born Citizens. Some call them Citizens who&s;e Fathers were free-born within the City; Others would have them to fetch their Pe|digree more remote, from their ancient Grandfathers. And &s;ome are of opinion, that forrainers received into the Society of Citizens, and naturalized, or Denizen'd, de&s;erve the name of Citizens. <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> terms them Citizens, that are capable of publick Offices in State, and are de&s;cended of free and hone&s;t Parentage. In popular States, all they are u&s;ually called Citizens that dwell in the City, as well Poor, as Rich; Bad, as Good; none being Bond-men; for every one is capable of Govern|ment, becau&s;e there is an univer&s;al parity among them. Of this nature was the
<PB N="196" REF="103">
Athenian Commonwealth (before &s;poken of) &s;o long as it was &s;ubject to Popular Government; and the Cantons of Switzer|land &s;teer the &s;ame cour&s;e even to this very Day. And divers Cities in <HI>Germany</HI> there are, called free; where the Inhabitants live popularly, &s;ecluded from Gentlemen, and noble Citizens. In an Oligarchy, be|cau&s;e men are mo&s;t re&s;pected for their re|venues and &s;ub&s;tance, they that are mo&s;t rich are reputed Citizens, though they are di&s;honourable, becau&s;e carele&s;s of all ver|tue; and make it their whole &s;tudy to be rich <HI>Quo jure, quaque injuria,</HI> by hook or by crook (as we &s;ay) right or wrong, no matter which way they obtain it; to the end that they may come to dignity and preferment, not as wi&s;e and vertuous, but as rich and wealthy per&s;ons.</P>
<P>Among the Romans, there were &s;everal &s;orts of Citizens; Some were called <HI>Mu|nicipes,</HI> &s;ome <HI>Coloni,</HI> and others <HI>Latini;</HI> eve|ry one of them retaining tho&s;e conditions that were allotted them by the people of <HI>Rome.</HI> Some whereof were free, &s;ome Con|federate, and &s;ome Stipendiary. Some were created Citizens <HI>pleno jure,</HI> which was by voice; and they were thought wor|thy of all honours; Others, <HI>Jure honorario,</HI>
<PB N="197" REF="103">
which were of the number of tho&s;e that were admitted into the the City without the &s;uffrage of the people; and they were <HI>honoris gratia</HI> called Citizens, as the <HI>Cam|pani,</HI> and <HI>Equites.</HI> He likewi&s;e was counted a Citizen of <HI>Rome,</HI> who&s;e name was writ|ten in the Book of the Cen&s;ors, and was an Hou&s;e-keeper. By all which it is per&s;picu|ous and evident, that in all Republicks they were properly called Citizens that could plead a right to Office, and could give &s;uf|frage in the State; whereas he that wants the&s;e priviledges, is rather to be called In|habitant, or Client, than Citizen. In Mo|narchies and Ari&s;tocracies tho&s;e are Citi|zens that are vertuous. In the latter, good and vertuous men only govern; in the for|mer, one alone, that for Bounty, Liberali|ty, and Magnificency excels all others. Tho&s;e people which are naturally Slaves, or wickedly debauched, do for the mo&s;t part obey Tyrants, and that Government is cal|led <HI>Imperium de&s;poticum:</HI> Yet are not all they to be judged Slaves, that are encum|bred with the power and oppre&s;&s;ion of Ty|rants, if they be not withall ba&s;e minded and vicious. For we read of many Citizens that have freed them&s;elves and their Coun|try from &s;ervitude, by &s;laying or expelling
<PB N="198" REF="104">
the Tyrants; and if they found their ex|pectations were herein fru&s;trated, they cho&s;e rather to lo&s;e their lives than their Liberty, as <HI>Brutus</HI> and <HI>Cato</HI> did, with many other Romans. Thus we have given the de|&s;cription and divi&s;ion of the ancient States Popular, Republicks and Kingdoms; in the next Chapter we &s;hall demon&s;trate the new models of Government &s;et up by the rebellious &s;ince the late unhappy wars be|tween King and Parliament.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="4" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. IV.</HEAD>
<HEAD>The new-fangled Model of Modern Policy, be|ing of three &s;orts; a Protectordom, a Commit|teedom, and a Rumpdom; and fir&s;t, of the Pro|tectordom.</HEAD>
<P>AS for that helli&s;h mon&s;ter, that dam|nable Machiavilian that fir&s;t gave ri&s;e to this &s;ame &s;trange and unheard of Go|vernment; we &s;hall &s;ay nothing tending either to his Parentage, Birth, or Educati|on, becau&s;e we have re&s;erved that as a &s;ub|ject for another entire peece; only, that he might be &s;aid to be a man of blouds, in the plural number, as <HI>Zipporah</HI> &s;aid to her Hu&s;|band
<PB N="199" REF="104">
<HI>Mo&s;es:</HI> Who butcher-like made cru|elty his profe&s;&s;ion, and was never better than when he had his Sword &s;heathed in his Country-mens bowels; &s;o that we may affirm, what &s;ucceeding Ages will unque|&s;tionably maintain:
<Q><L>&mdash;Dicat de Tygride natum</L>
<L>Po&s;teritas&mdash;</L></Q>
An audacious Rebel, that dur&s;t a&s;pire from the mean condition of a private per&s;on, to the Throne, though he fir&s;t wa&s;h'd his hands in the bloud of his Soveraign! He repre&s;ented the real Tragedy of a King and no King; who&s;e mouth water'd after that Title, but that he dur&s;t not a&s;&s;ume it, being he had fought &s;o long again&s;t it, and was &s;worn to the depo&s;ition of all King&s;hip for the future.</P>
<P>He, to rai&s;e him&s;elf on the top of the Pyramid of honour, trampled over the heads of the mo&s;t Loyal Subjects of the Realm; made a foot-ball of a Crown, and endeavoured utterly to extirpate the Royal Progeny, Root and Kind, Stem and Stock: Nay, I will be bold to &s;ay, if that an inno|cent Babe had been born with <HI>Vive le Roy</HI> in his mouth, he mu&s;t have been food for his
<PB N="200" REF="105">
Sword, as well as the fir&s;t-born were for <HI>Herods.</HI> It is credibly reported, that <HI>Hugh Peters,</HI> that &s;piritual Dragooner, and <HI>Nol,</HI> hatch'd this Government as they were wal|king together in a field: a brace of pious Devils! They would carry the outward &s;hew of &s;anctity, whenas all their actions proclaim'd them diabolical. There was never &s;o furious an Incendiary, as this pi|ous Pulpit-cuffer; nor no <HI>Machiavel</HI> more apt to receive the impre&s;&s;ion of infernal Coun&s;el, who would &s;acrifice both &s;oul and body to accompli&s;h his own ends, or promote his &s;elf-intere&s;t. The whole Na|tion was enchained in a more than Aegypti|an Bondage; who were compelled to &s;ub|mit to this Tyrant <HI>Nol,</HI> or be cut off by him; nothing but a word and a blow, his will was his Law; tell him of <HI>Magna Char|ta,</HI> he would lay his hand on his &s;word, and cry <HI>Magna Farta:</HI> No Liberty was granted to the Subject, unle&s;s it were that of Con|&s;cience; and that too was denied the more Orthodox and Loyal Party. The People were rob'd of all Laws, Rights and Privi|ledges, and &s;ometimes of their Lives; whil&s;t he, like a Tyrant, in&s;ulted with a <HI>Quis contradicet?</HI> The Citizens were &s;o fleeced and pilled, that had this
<PB N="201" REF="105">
inhumane barbarous wretch continued much longer, he had &s;ent <HI>London</HI> into the Country a begging. To &s;ay <HI>God &s;ave the King,</HI> was a crime as black as any forbidden in the <HI>Decalogue:</HI> but &s;o long as that was prohibited publikely and privately, it was in vain to cry out, <HI>God &s;peed the Plough,</HI> or expect any ble&s;&s;ing from the &s;uperiour power. His infernal plots and machinati|ons had wrought the utter ruine and de&s;o|lation of the Country, had not Providence divine cut him off, to the general benefit and rejoycing of the Nation. Engli&s;h ground groaned with the burthen of this inhumane Tyrant. It was not enough that the Engli&s;h &s;hould be &s;courged, but the whip mu&s;t lye before them; it was not &s;ufficient that he &s;hould be the Author of all their woes while living, but they mu&s;t live &s;ubject to his Tyranny and oppre&s;&s;ion; and like &s;o many mutes, conde&s;cend to all his actions by &s;ilence, not daring to menti|on the lea&s;t di&s;like, though it thwarted their di&s;po&s;ition never &s;o much. He was a rod of their own making, and they were content to untru&s;s while&s;t he whipt them. In vain it was for the mo&s;t accurate wit to plead Rea&s;on or Law again&s;t the Sword: the Tongue is too weak a weapon for the
<PB N="202" REF="106">
Dagger. During the u&s;urpation of this &s;ame helli&s;h Tyrant, what a Chaos of con|fu&s;ion be&s;pread the face of the whole Na|tion? How was all the Land benegroed with more than the Egyptian darkne&s;s of per&s;ecution? The whole Country was en|veloped in clouds, and ruine hung over the heads of the people, by as &s;lender a thread, as the Sword over the head of <HI>Damocles</HI> at the Banquet. The whole Land was en|tombed in de&s;pair, and little or no hope of a re&s;urrection, till a divine hand wrought it by his long-expected death: and it is the Cordial wi&s;h and hearty de&s;ire of the loyal Pen-man, that all his Maje&s;ties and the Kingdoms enemies were as &s;tately interred as he was. Had he de&s;erved an Epitaph, we would have &s;tretch'd hard but our brain &s;hould have furni&s;hed him with one; but &s;ince he was &s;o unworthy, we hold it as great a di&s;paragement to our quill to be|&s;tow a Copy of Ver&s;es on him, as he was a grief and trouble to the Loyal Party of the Nation. And indeed, how can any Son of <HI>Phoebus</HI> employ his time &s;o ill, as to &s;alute his dead corp&s;e with an Epitaph, that was &s;o great an enemy to them when living; Who had a real de&s;ign to extirpate all li|terature, and implunge us into as deep a
<PB N="203" REF="106">
gulph of ignorance and profanene&s;s as the Turk is ca&s;t into? he hated all Learning, and the Learned, becau&s;e his crimes were &s;o black and horrid that they went far be|yond the mercy of the Book. He granted a toleration for all Religions, becau&s;e his own was to choo&s;e; and that he might not offend the tender Con&s;ciences of his pre|tended Zealots and Favourites, who were true Va&s;&s;als to the Lu&s;t and Villany of &s;uch an imperious U&s;urper. Hone&s;ty was &s;o much out of fa&s;hion, that he that was ver|tuous was a Malefactor, and de&s;erved death; for Knavery was <HI>&agrave; la mode;</HI> and you know the old Saying, <HI>It is as good to be out of the World, as out of the Fa&s;hion.</HI> An hone&s;t loy|all Subject was as much hooted and poin|ted at, and judged as ridiculous an Object, as a Spani&s;h <HI>Don</HI> in his Country Garb at <HI>Paris.</HI> An hone&s;t man was as &s;trange a &s;ight in <HI>England,</HI> as a Hor&s;e in <HI>Venice,</HI> or a Beggar in <HI>Holland;</HI> and he was as like to be pre|ferred to his favour, as a Spurrier was to Queen <HI>Elizabeth.</HI> But &s;ince he is in his grave&punc; we will not rake up his a&s;hes any farthe<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1+ letters"> if he can find any re&s;t there now dead, who living I am &s;ure had little or none in his con&s;cience; (for he ever carried a civil War in his brea&s;t, of fears, &s;u&s;picions and
<PB N="204" REF="107">
jealou&s;ies) he &s;hall lie &s;ecure; for we intend to di&s;turb him no farther.</P>
<P>After the death of this Briti&s;h Idoll, <HI>Ri|chard</HI> the fourth his Son peep'd out; who had no fault &s;o great, as that he had him to his Father; for it was generally believed, he would be but Tenant to the Right Landlord, or the <HI>Stuarts</HI> Steward, to &s;et all things in order till he was re&s;tored. But alas! he prov'd but a fortnights wonder; no &s;ooner up, but down; his depo&s;ition (if we may credit report) was the womani&s;h plot of weeping <HI>Fleetwoods</HI> Lady; who &s;to|mach'd it that his preferment &s;hould be greater than her Husbands, though it pro|ved to little purpo&s;e: &amp; indeed, it is &s;eldom known that female coun&s;el ever arrives to any better &s;ucce&s;s; nor is there any rea&s;on that the Di&s;taff &s;hould be a companion for the Scepter. A Kitchin was a great deal more fit for her than a Throne, though &s;he had ambition enough to per&s;wade her &s;elf that &s;he de&s;erved the name of a Prince&s;s.</P>
<P>Yet had <HI>Richard</HI> been heir of his Fathers parts (though it was well he was not) he would &s;oon have fru&s;trated all their de|&s;igns, and come to as much height and greatne&s;s: But he had not enough of the Rogue in his Compo&s;ition, to make up a
<PB N="205" REF="107">
damned Politician. He was fitter to bear a Hawk on his Fi&s;t, than to hold a Scepter in his hand. A &s;edentary, retired, Country-life, was far more &s;uitable to his temper and di&s;po&s;ition, than a tumultuous City-life. He was altogether ignorant in that &s;o much practi&s;ed profe&s;&s;ion of piecing the Lion with the Foxes tail; which no doubt he might have done, had he been as well read in <HI>Machiavil</HI> as his Sire was. He was not much read in Politicks, as appears by the &s;mall term of time that was allotted him to play the Protector. But no matter, it was well it fell out &s;o: he is like to fare the better for it, in the judgement of the mo&s;t cen&s;orious. Be&s;ides, it was what &s;uited with his phancy (according to relation) better than all the u&s;urped power and au|thority of his Predece&s;&s;or. <HI>Exit</HI> Protector, he was but like a Pageant, a King in a Play; he only appears upon the Stage, makes a leg, and takes his leave of you: but what comes next? The State<HI>-Grote&s;coes</HI> will &s;oon re&s;olve you, the bu&s;ine&s;s is already hatch'd; room for a Committteedom, which being the &s;econd branch of this tripartite Anar|chy, challenges a place in the fifth Chap|ter.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="5" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="206" REF="108">
<HEAD>CHAP. V.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Of a Committeedom.</HEAD>
<P>WHen <HI>Richard</HI> (as the Major part of the Gentry do) had retired him&s;elf to his Country-hou&s;e for a mouth-full of fre&s;h Air, there &s;tarts up another kind of Government, hatch'd by a Committee of Safety; (of &s;lavery, they meant) who were a rude rabble of Factious, Illiterate, Phanatick, Di&s;loyal Rebels; a knot of <HI>Knipperdolings;</HI> of the &s;ame &s;tamp with that German Botcher, <HI>Jack-a-Leyden:</HI> the very <HI>merdaille</HI> and excrementitious off|&s;couring of the Nation: during which time we might be &s;aid to be the true <HI>Anti|podes;</HI> for the Shooe was placed above the Head: and the Nation troubled with &s;uch a State-Apoplexy, or Political Meagrim, that it would &s;oon have reel'd to its de&s;tru|ction (being drunk with Rebellion) had not the Heavens made a re&s;tautation of our pri&s;tine Laws and ancient Liberty, by the re-e&s;tabli&s;hment of our mo&s;t gracious So|veraign, <HI>Charles</HI> the Second. Thus did they wheel about the Circumference of Go|vernment,
<PB N="207" REF="108">
till they hit upon the Center, <HI>viz.</HI> Monarchy. How like a &s;en&s;ele&s;s bo|dy did the Nation lie, during this &s;trange unheard-of Government? Nor was it a wonder; for how can the Members live without their Head? Mi&s;erable and de&s;pi|cable was the condition of the Natives, &s;o that they became ridiculous to their Neighbours; Law lay bleeding, and Ju|&s;tice run quite contrary to her In&s;titution. Learning was of &s;o &s;mall e&s;teem and ac|count, that it was thought an incumbrance and prejudice to him that could boa&s;t of it. Divinity was quite out of date; Churches were pulled down for Edification; To rob Cathedrals &s;acrilegiou&s;ly, was Piety; The Temple was converted into a Stable; &s;o that it might well be &s;aid, that Hor&s;e and Man &s;erv'd God alike. The Pulpits were hung with blew Aprons, and <HI>Cheap&s;ide</HI> pro|duced better Preachers than <HI>Cambridge.</HI> No Order nor <HI>Decorum</HI> in Gods hou&s;e, but all things &s;lutti&s;hly handled; as if the Queen of Sciences, Divinity, mu&s;t be cloathed in filthy rags. As if the Father of Langua|ges under&s;tood no Language but Engli&s;h, the Latine and Greek Fathers mu&s;t not be quoted, but were almo&s;t come to the Chandlers &s;hops to make wa&s;te Paper.
<PB N="208" REF="109">
No Prayer but what was by the Spirit: Bold audacious Villains, that dare a&s;cend the Pulpit, and there talk with God <HI>ex tem|pore.</HI> And indeed, mo&s;t of the&s;e Spirit-mongers made moving Sermons: for not a man of under&s;tanding in the Church, but would go out before they had done. The Orthodox Clergy were di&s;-re&s;pected, ca|lumniated, reviled, impri&s;oned, and execu|ted, what not? But why, or wherefore, no one knew: as &s;queami&s;h as the&s;e Sectaries &s;eemed to be, they could &s;wallow down fat Benefices, and never di&s;gorge them. The Steeple-Hou&s;es mu&s;t down, they were &s;u|per&s;titious bu&s;ine&s;&s;es; They &s;ay, their ten|der, I &s;ay, their large Con&s;ciences promp|ted them to the&s;e &s;acrilegious actions; and all for the promoting of their own filthy lucre and &s;elf-intere&s;t; which made them convert tho&s;e Church-Uten&s;ils that were con&s;ecrated to Sacred u&s;es, to their own be|nefit and profit. The&s;e foul fiends haunted &s;acred grounds mo&s;t, not out of devotion, but gain; Thus was it their dayly practice to learn to leap over Steeples: and whereas we u&s;ed to &s;ay, <HI>Lord encrea&s;e our Faith;</HI> we might then heartily cry out and &s;ay, <HI>Lord decrea&s;e our Faiths;</HI> for we had then &s;o many among us, that if a Jew or Pagan had come
<PB N="209" REF="109">
to be converted among us, he would have found as much difference in the outward ceremony and preaching of the Word, as there is between our Tenets and theirs: Outward &s;hew and o&s;tentation had almo&s;t worm'd out the Sub&s;tance of Religion. But this Cockatrice (thanks to Heaven) was cru&s;ht in the Shell; this prodigious birth prov'd abortive, almo&s;t as &s;oon confoun|ded as conceived. Had we &s;uffered tho&s;e Birds of prey to have been fledge (for they were but pin-feathered) it might have been &s;aid in our Proverb, that <HI>we brought up Birds to pick out our own eyes.</HI> But they were all &s;oon got by Lowbelling; the&s;e &s;illy Wood-cocks were en&s;nared in a Gin laid by the Royal Party. Well may <HI>Albion</HI> acknow|ledge St <HI>George</HI> her Patron, &s;ince we have a Trinity of them to protect us; one St <HI>George,</HI> and a brace of Sir <HI>Georges.</HI> This Commit|tee-Conventicle of <HI>Cacodaemons</HI> was &s;oon crackt and di&s;&s;olved; which hapned very &s;ucce&s;sfully, for el&s;e the whole Nation had &s;oon come to its di&s;&s;olution. If ever there was a Tower of <HI>Babel,</HI> &s;ure it was here then; for what could be &s;aid of <HI>England</HI> more ju&s;t|ly, than that it was a Land of Confu&s;ion? Now the Anabapti&s;ts &s;trutted it <HI>en cuerpo;</HI> they domineered as if they had been &s;ole
<PB N="210" REF="110">
Ma&s;ters of the Univer&s;e: And had liberty to broach their damnable and erroneous opinions in all places without controule: <HI>Six days &s;halt thou labour,</HI> that part of the Commandment they allowed; and <HI>the &s;e|venth thou &s;halt teach,</HI> that was their own addition; at work all the week, and a preaching on Sundaies. Surely the leaven of the&s;e Phari&s;ees mu&s;t be very &s;trong, that can work a Cobler out of the Stall into the Pulpit; where you might &s;ee him thumb the Bible with his ma&s;&s;ey fi&s;t, and begins to pitch on a portion of Scripture, though he begin at the wrong end of the Book; and then like a Fugitive, runs away from the Text (and how can he do otherwi&s;e? for he is be&s;ide the La&s;t.) <HI>Ne &s;utor ultra crept|dam,</HI> was an ancient Proverb; but they neglected all antiquity &s;o much, that they pulled down all Churches who&s;e out&s;ide pronounced them ancient, and crept in holes and corners; which is enough to evince that they can never be regi&s;tred <HI>inter Angelos,</HI> who were found &s;o often <HI>in Angu|lis:</HI> but their deeds of darkne&s;s required &s;uch dark corners, who if they had appea|red in the Light, had &s;oon manife&s;ted their imbecility and villany: But now we may in the Juglers Dialect &s;ay, <HI>Pre&s;to! Jack</HI>
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<HI>Lambert</HI> and his Legion of Hobgoblins are vani&s;hed; <HI>Ingoldsby</HI> routed his Forces, and &s;ecured his Per&s;on; where now in the Tower he hath &s;o much liberty (though confined) as to &s;ing a <HI>Palinode</HI> for his fore|pa&s;t mi&s;demeanors, if he have but the grace to do &s;o: his helli&s;h crew may wait for his deliverance by an Angel, as long as the Turks did for the Re&s;urrection of their <HI>Mahomet,</HI> and find them&s;elves at length mi|&s;erably deluded. All which may afford them matter of repentance, if they have but the knowledge to make a &s;piritual im|provement of &s;o gracious an opportunity. But as their reign was &s;hort and of &s;mall continuance, &s;o will we be, &s;uiting the di&s;|cour&s;e to the matter di&s;cour&s;ed on, and come to the third &s;ort of this new-fangled Government, which will take up the la&s;t Chapter.</P>
</DIV3>
<DIV3 N="6" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. VI.</HEAD>
<HEAD>Of the Rumpdom.</HEAD>
<P>THe Subject of this di&s;cour&s;e being concerning the Rump, we thought fit to place it in the Buttock of our Book, that
<PB N="212" REF="111">
&s;o we may come to an end by di&s;cour&s;ing of an End, a Fag-end of Parliament, the Rump. It is credibly reported, that noble <HI>Brown</HI> was their Godfather, and be&s;towed this name upon the&s;e Ar&s;e-worms; which proves him to be as good a <HI>Nomenclator</HI> as <HI>Adam,</HI> who gave names according to the nature of the Bea&s;ts that came before him; and &s;o did he; which was, and will conti|nue to be a brand upon them (notwith&s;tand|ing the Vote that pa&s;t in the Hou&s;e for a fifty pound forfeiture on every per&s;on that &s;hould call them by that name) and their po&s;terity, &s;o long as the Sun and Moon en|dures. Had he &s;earched all the Dictionaries that ever were extant, he could never have found out a term more &s;uitable for them. Had the&s;e bea&s;ts been to enter the Ark, it would have puzzled <HI>Noah</HI> him&s;elf to have &s;uited them into pairs.</P>
<P>This Rump was made up of a Rabble of rude, illiterate, rebellious fellows; a heap or clu&s;ter of Mechanicks; that intended to reduce the Nation to as much &s;lavery and &s;ervility, as they them&s;elves were born to. And fir&s;t of all, let us nip <HI>He&s;ilrig;</HI> that wide-mouth'd fellow, that could &s;wallow down Church and Bi&s;hops Lands without any &s;cruple or con&s;cience: &s;o furious a Vil|lain,
<PB N="213" REF="111">
that he was able to &s;et a whole King|dom in combu&s;tion: One, that would have made a Bonefire of the City, &s;o that he might but have warm'd his hands thereby, rather than fail. So horrible a Mammoni&s;t, that he was re&s;olved to cram his Coffers, though he &s;tarved his Con&s;cience: &s;o that <HI>Lord have mercy upon rich Sir A. He&s;ilrig a &s;in|ner,</HI> might have been the &s;um of his Letany.</P>
<P><HI>Desborow,</HI> that bloudy beef-brain'd wretch falls under our de&s;cription next; who was a State <HI>Hay-gee-ho,</HI> or Carter; and never &s;hall come to the honour to be Waggoner to <HI>Charles his Wain;</HI> who &s;till thought, when he &s;ate in the Parliament, that he was whi&s;t|ling to the Country Teem; and therefore alwaies endeavoured to ride the Citizens, and make A&s;&s;es of them. But indeed, to &s;peak truth, we cannot much blame the Man; for he was ever &s;o much u&s;ed to the Whip, that he mu&s;t &s;till be la&s;hing where|ever he came. Yet one would have thought he might have &s;pit in his hand and took better hold; for now his Whip may prove like a Rod for his own Breech: But no mat|ter, every School-boy could have told him, that the Rump u&s;ed to pay for all faults; And he might have remembred that we have a Proverb runs thus, <HI>The Pot goes not &s;o</HI>
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<HI>often to the water, but it comes broke home at la&s;t;</HI> which no doubt he will &s;oon be made &s;en&s;ible of. But I am weary with whi&s;tling to this Brawny Boor.</P>
<P>Enter <HI>Scot:</HI> his very name implies trea|chery; <HI>As treacherous as a Scot,</HI> is old, though true; and may be appliable to him: for they are as true Types one of the other, as the Dragon of the Devil. A bitter enemy to King&s;hip he was, and one that had the im|pudence to affirm publikely (&s;o report in|forms me) that he was one of the chiefe&s;t that &s;ate in the Highe&s;t Court of Inju&s;tice for the executing of <HI>Charles</HI> the fir&s;t; and were it to do again, he would be as ready upon that de&s;ign as ever. Sure he was &s;ome kin to a Tinker, he proves him&s;elf &s;uch a man of metal.</P>
<P><HI>Surge Harry Martin;</HI> &s;hew thy &s;mock|face: well might he be a Rumper, he de|lighted &s;o much in the Tail. A lewd di&s;&s;o|lute fellow; fitter to walk before a party of Whores, than to lead up a Regiment of Hor&s;e. This is one of that &s;anctified Crew, that would procure any bu&s;ine&s;s to be done, if a female, from whom he might but ex|pect a kindne&s;s, put up the Petition. But he was once hand&s;omly fitted by a hand&s;ome Girl; which action made the name of Tre|pan
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fir&s;t known in <HI>England:</HI> His lu&s;tful de|&s;ire, though unaccompli&s;hed, co&s;t two hun|dred pounds in &s;awce; only they were &s;o ci|vil to be&s;tow a dinner of him, inviting &s;ome other of the Members of this mock-Parlia|ment, only to divulge the frollick. Hence|forth, <HI>Harry,</HI> take this advice as from a friend, Beware of all &s;uch co&s;tly petitions, if ever it be thy hap to prefer any more.</P>
<P>But to dwell upon particulars thus, would require a Volume: I mu&s;t ha&s;ten, fince I am come to the end. Thus did <HI>Nol</HI> and the Rump play at No&s;e in a&mdash;with the Na|tion, intending (as it is thought) to &s;tink the People out of their dominions, and to remain with their Confederates Lords of Great <HI>Britain.</HI> (As for the Rumpers, they provided a Scavenger) to &s;weep <HI>London-</HI>&s;treets; and he hath &s;wept them away, and made the hou&s;e clean for more de&s;erving Per&s;ons. I wonder what benefit did ever accrew to the Nation by their Acts and Ordinances; or when did they ever at|tempt any thing, but, Tinker-wi&s;e, in mend|ing one hole they made three? All their con&s;ultations tended only to their own preferment. A knot of gnawing Vermine, that fed upon the fat of the Land; A Com|pany of Book-worms, who, becau&s;e igno|rant
<PB N="216" REF="113">
them&s;elves, were re&s;olved to de&s;troy all Learning, and implunge the People into an Aby&s;s of Bruti&s;hne&s;s and Barbari&s;m: and make them &s;ub&s;cribe to, and approve of what&s;oever their dunghil &s;pirits promp|ted them to. But I mu&s;t draw to a period. This New-fangled Model you have under the notion of <HI>Modern Policy</HI> (though it is a favour to call it &s;o) for <HI>Rebellion</HI> it &s;hould be; but I was unwilling to front my Page with &s;o formidable a Title. For the Nati|on hath been too too long &s;en&s;ible of the heavy effects of Rebellion; which have lighted &s;omewhat hard upon their &s;houl|ders. The latter part of this Piece, I con|fe&s;s, differs from the former, as much as <HI>Heraclitus</HI> from <HI>Democritus;</HI> yet it is no of|fence, I pre&s;ume, (if I may be thought a &s;ufficient Apothecary) to put a &s;cruple of mirth into a do&s;e of &s;eriou&s;ne&s;s; wherefore I &s;hall conclude with what I ever made my Motto,
<Q>&mdash;Non &s;eria &s;emper.</Q></P>
</DIV3>
</DIV2>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
<PB REF="113">
</DIV1>
</BODY>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
