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<DATE>2014-06-04</DATE>
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<NAME>Olivia Bottum</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<P>THE PRINCE.</P>
<P>VVritten in <HI>French</HI></P>
<P>By <HI>Moun&s;ier du Balzac.</HI></P>
<P>NOW Tran&s;lated into Engli&s;h.</P>
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed for <HI>M. Meighen,</HI> and <HI>G. Bedell,</HI> and are to be &s;old at their &s;hop at the <HI>Middle-Temple</HI> gate. 1648.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="dedication">
<PB REF="2">
<PB REF="2">
<HEAD>To my worthy friend Colonell <HI>Gervas Holles.</HI></HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>SIR,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>_I Have &s;ent you <HI>Balzac's Prince</HI> made Engli&s;h: Tho&s;e that have read the Authour in his owne words; (which indeed is a hand&s;ome piece,) will judge it a &s;trange pre&s;umption to make a Frenchman, (&s;o much that Mode is doted
<PB REF="3"> on) &s;peak any other lan|guage then his owne: But your acceptance will countervaile their Cen|&s;ure, which you will ex|treamly a&s;&s;ure me of, if, in ca&s;e it venture further abroad, you will give it leave to be happy in this Addre&s;&s;e it de&s;ires to ap|peare under. You have placed all hazards below the &s;ervice to your King, you may the better there|fore protect a Prince: Not that I would entitle you to tho&s;e faults the Tran&s;lation may labour
<PB REF="3"> under; a friend is to bee made u&s;e of in a more noble employment; &s;uch I have found you, who&s;e patience, when you fir&s;t read the&s;e papers, hath engaged you to this &s;e|cond trouble of accep|ting them wholly for your owne, from him who is</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Your mo&s;t affectionate friend <HI>H. G.</HI></SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="dedication">
<PB REF="4">
<HEAD>To my LORD the Cardinall of <HI>Richelieu.</HI></HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>My Lord,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>_I Am very &s;or|ry that my indi&s;po&s;ition cannot per|mit me to o|bey the com|mand which you have in|joyn'd mee, and to bee my &s;elfe the Bearer of the Booke which I &s;end you. Yet &s;ince you receive it from better and more worthy hands then mine, and that <HI>M.</HI> the Bi&s;hop of <HI>Nantz</HI> hath done mee the honour to carry it, I need not fear it &s;hould run any hazard in my ab&s;ence.
<PB REF="4"> If the King vouch&s;afe to ca&s;t his eyes upon it for the te&s;timony you beare it, I dare promi&s;e <HI>my Lord,</HI> that he will finde &s;ome|thing that will plea&s;e him for the remembrance of what is pa&s;&s;'d, and that his vertue being without example, he will take plea&s;ure to &s;ee that I &s;peake thereof after a manner which is not altogether common. I pro|te&s;t freely that the con&s;iderati|on of &s;o high a vertue, hath gi|ven me thoughts which I can|not expect from the mediocrity of my wit: and I have bin &s;o extraordinarily tran&s;ported, that oftentimes I knew not what I was about to write. It alone, hath di&s;covered to mee the <HI>Idaea</HI> of this Art which commands all others, which excites and calmes the pa&s;&s;ions
<PB REF="5"> as &s;eemeth good to it; which is not content to plea&s;e by the pu|rity of the Style, and the graces of language, but which under|takes to per&s;wade by the force of learning and abundance of rea&s;on. I have &s;ought it hither|to unprofitably; the Life of the King hath taught me more then all the precepts of the <HI>Rhetori|cians;</HI> and I owe all the merit of my work to the happine&s;&s;e of his raigne. It is at lea&s;t one advantage which I have above tho&s;e who have lived before me. Their memory is other|wayes venerable to mee; and &s;ince I honour men of three|&s;core yeares, I have no mind to contemne the Antiquity of ma|ny Generations. For &s;trangers that believe them&s;elves to have the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of wit, we are not
<PB REF="5"> bound to yield them the &s;ame re&s;pect; and I think I may &s;ay without offence, that as they have not a Ma&s;ter of &s;o much worth as ours, neither would it be rea&s;onable for us to be infe|riour to them; and that the worthie&s;t <HI>Prince</HI> of the world &s;hould command a people of le&s;&s;e worth then others: In my opinion you will &s;tate this que|&s;tion in our Favour: But I hope more <HI>My Lord,</HI> if you take notice of the carriage of the di&s;cour&s;e, and con&s;ider how I get out of ill pa&s;&s;ages, you will do me the honour to avow, that though I walk upon thornes I am not prick'd, and that in the mo&s;t dangerous matters I have kept that temper which ought to be held <HI>Inter abruptam audaciam, &amp; deforme ob&s;equium:</HI> Between
<PB REF="6"> pre&s;umptuous boldne&s;&s;e and deform'd flattery. If &s;ometimes I have mo&s;t free expre&s;&s;ions, me thinkes my Libertie is like that of well polliced Repub|lickes, where they leave not off to obey the lawes, and together withall to pre&s;erve their Liber|tie.</P>
<P>When I &s;hall be at <HI>Milan</HI> or at <HI>Bru&s;&s;els,</HI> I &s;hall not know how to handle the <HI>Princes</HI> of the hou&s;e of <HI>Au&s;tria</HI> with more re|&s;pect and reverence then I doe; and it is in my opinion all that they can expect from the di|&s;cretion of a man that is not their Subject. For not to dare to &s;peak of the Ambition of the <HI>Spaniards,</HI> of the Maximes of the <HI>Coun&s;ell</HI> of <HI>Spaine,</HI> and of the De&s;igne to conquer, which the King will change when he &s;hall
<PB REF="6"> plea&s;e, into a nece&s;&s;ity of defen|ding them&s;elves; would be al|ready one beginning of &s;lavery which wee &s;hould pay them; and they are, I a&s;&s;ure my &s;elfe, too ju&s;t to be willing that wee &s;hould thanke them for the wrong they have done us.</P>
<P>There may be &s;ome other pa&s;&s;ages which ill Interpreters will wrong in the explication, chiefly where it is &s;poken of <HI>Mini&s;ters</HI> and Favourites: But keeping my &s;elfe in generall The&s;i&s;e's, and not de&s;igning the per&s;ons in particular, my proceeding &s;eemes to mee very innocent. Neither can I hinder tho&s;e that find them&s;elves guil|ty to have remor&s;e, or that wounded faces &s;hould not &s;ee their &s;carres when they behold them&s;elves in a gla&s;&s;e. If it were
<PB REF="7"> forbidden to make profe&s;&s;ion of Truth, I &s;hould not pre&s;ent|ly turne Rebell, nor oppo&s;e my &s;elf to an e&s;tabli&s;hed order: I would obey &s;o perver&s;e a Law, becau&s;e I am a good Citizen, but it &s;hould be by my &s;ilence, and not by my cowardline&s;&s;e, and at the charges of not &s;peak|ing at all, but not of &s;peaking a|gain&s;t my con&s;cience. God be thanked, we are not upon the&s;e tearmes; and I al&s;o injoy the good fortune of the times, and knowing well, that whatever falls out, &s;ervile &s;pirits are &s;u|&s;pected, that their Te&s;timony is not received, and that they do injury to Rea&s;on it &s;elf when they make u&s;e thereof, I would be bold &s;ometimes, to be cre|dible alwayes, and to make that pa&s;&s;e for ab&s;olute Truth, which
<PB REF="7"> otherwi&s;e might be di&s;puted.</P>
<P>There are that accu&s;e mee of a contrary vice, and who &s;ay that I flatter becau&s;e in &s;ome places I &s;trive to adorn truth: I would not do an ill office to a|ny per&s;on; But a&s;&s;ure your &s;elf, <HI>my Lord,</HI> that the&s;e kind of Peo|ple are Enemies rather of my Subject, then of my Book, and wi&s;h more again&s;t the <HI>Prince,</HI> then again&s;t the Oratour. I pro|te&s;t, had I bin able to expre&s;&s;e my &s;elf in a loftier &s;train, I could have made it appeare in this oc|ca&s;ion; neither had it beene as was &s;ometime &s;aid to imploy the Arrowes of <HI>Philoctetes</HI> to kill birds, nor to rai&s;e &s;tormes upon a Rivulet: It is not fit to &s;peake meanly of that which is the highe&s;t next under Heaven, and Soveraignty which is ado|red
<PB REF="8"> all alone, de&s;erves without doubt a double veneration when it hath vertue for a Com|panion. One cannot write of the King in tearmes too high nor too magnificent; and wee may for many ju&s;t rea&s;ons al|low him that, which heretofore hath been conferr'd upon wick|ed <HI>Princes</HI> meerly in re&s;pect of their <HI>Character.</HI> I will not re|pre&s;ent you <HI>My Lord,</HI> with what honour and what humility, or rather with what wor&s;hip and religion the <HI>Romane Princes</HI> have been entertained by their Subjects. I will not trouble my &s;elfe to make you con&s;ider that they be&s;tow'd upon them <HI>Eter|nity</HI> and <HI>Divinity;</HI> as wee give our <HI>Soveraignes, Maje&s;tie</HI> and <HI>Highne&s;&s;e,</HI> that what is now cal|led the <HI>Crime of Felony,</HI> was in
<PB REF="8"> tho&s;e times called the <HI>Crime of Impiety,</HI> and that our Rebels were their Ungodly ones.</P>
<P>I will not alleadge that in the <HI>Code</HI> of <HI>Theodo&s;ius,</HI> the An|&s;wers of the Emperours are &s;ti|led Oracles; their Edicts Di|vine Letters, their A&s;pects a Cele&s;tiall &s;plendour, their Pal|lace, the Divine Hou&s;e, their Clo&s;et the Sanctuary: I onely intreat you to remember that this Style is the Style of the <HI>Ro|mane</HI> Empire, which had alrea|dy received Chri&s;tianity, and that not only the Courtiers and the Oratours have &s;poken thus, but al&s;o the Holy Fathers and the Councels. Saint <HI>Gregory Nazianzen</HI> in his fir&s;t Invective again&s;t <HI>Julian,</HI> calleth <HI>Con&s;tance</HI> mo&s;t Divine <HI>Prince,</HI> though this mo&s;t Divine <HI>Prince</HI> had per&s;e|cuted
<PB REF="9"> the faithfull, driven the Popes out of their Seate, and dyed in the <HI>Arrian</HI> Here&s;ie. <HI>Ana&s;ta&s;ius</HI> was al&s;o an Heretick Emperour, and was &s;lain with a Thunderbolt by a ju&s;t puni&s;h|ment of Heaven; and yet <HI>Sabas</HI> the good &s;ervant of God &s;peak|ing of this wicked <HI>Prince,</HI> &s;aid, that he was come to adore the &s;teps of his Imperiall Piety: and an Hi&s;torian of his time called him Saint <HI>Ana&s;ta&s;ius.</HI> The Fa|thers of the &s;ixth Councell of <HI>Con&s;tantinople,</HI> do call <HI>Ju&s;tinian,</HI> Saint <HI>Ju&s;tinian,</HI> and his Wife Saint <HI>Theodora,</HI> though the Life of both of them was fuller of <HI>Mon&s;ters,</HI> then of <HI>Miracles,</HI> and that <HI>Theodora</HI> particularly made u&s;e of the power of the Empire onely to doe mi&s;chiefe to the Church: After the &s;ame man|ner
<PB REF="9"> <HI>Theodorick</HI> the <HI>Arrian</HI> is called Saint <HI>Theodorick</HI> by the Councell of <HI>Rome,</HI> and accor|ding to the relation of <HI>Eu&s;ebius; Dennis</HI> of <HI>Alexandria,</HI> the Mar|tyr of our <HI>Lord,</HI> gave the Title of mo&s;t Holy, to <HI>Valerian</HI> the <HI>Pagan</HI> Emperour, though wee attribute it now only to the Su|preame Head of Chri&s;tian Re|ligion.</P>
<P>Now if this be &s;o, and that the Fathers and the Councels have &s;poken of the holine&s;&s;e of <HI>Heretiques</HI> and <HI>Pagans,</HI> which proceeded only from the Cha|racter and unction which they received, and which con&s;e|quently was externall and came from without; why is it not lawfull for me to acknowledge another holine&s;&s;e joyned to this? a Holine&s;&s;e which is not
<PB REF="10"> &s;uperficiall and borrowed; but which hath its foundation in the innocency of life; which is not tyed to the Dignity, but in|herent in the Per&s;on; which is not an impre&s;&s;ion of the finger of <HI>God</HI> upon a fortuitous mat|ter, but an effu&s;ion of his grace in a &s;oule cho&s;en and pre|de&s;tin'd. Whoever finds ex|ce&s;&s;e in my words, knowes not what is the duty of a Subject, nor has that opinion which he ought to have concerning his own <HI>Prince.</HI> He carries his &s;ight too boldly upon &s;o elevated a greatne&s;&s;e, and mea&s;ures not the di&s;tance which is betweene his Judgement and the worth of the King. Provided that the honour which is rendered to the&s;e Sacred Per&s;ons be not in|jurious to <HI>God,</HI> there can be no
<PB REF="10"> exce&s;&s;e in honouring them; pro|vided that the Prai&s;es which are given them, do not offend a greater <HI>Maje&s;tie</HI> then theirs, they cannot be immoderate; wee ought to reverence even their &s;hadow, &amp; bow the knee before their picture: All that comes near them ought to ap|pear to us more pure, and more full of lu&s;ter by the participati|on which it receives from their rayes. The re&s;pect which is born them ought to proceed e|ven to their Liveries and ordi|nary Servants, and with grea|ter rea&s;on to be extended to their Affaires and <HI>Mini&s;ters:</HI> For whom you may remember if you plea&s;e, that the ancient Chri&s;tians were wont to pray publikely, and to ask of God their pre&s;ervation, though thereby they intreated for the
<PB REF="11"> pre&s;ervation of their per&s;ecu|ters, and of tho&s;e who expo&s;ed them daily to Lions in the <HI>Am|phitheater.</HI></P>
<P>After this Example I have no mind to murmure again&s;t the Government of my Coun|trey, nor to find fault with that which pa&s;&s;eth over my head. I am alwayes content with the pre&s;ent hone&s;ty, and the wi&s;e|dome which is in u&s;e; I never di&s;pute again&s;t the Pilote that carries me, nor am curious af|ter a novelty, to which, though it may chance prove good, I &s;hall have much trouble to ac|cu&s;tome my &s;elfe. I &s;uffer Ty|rannie, and de&s;ire the upright admini&s;tration of Ju&s;tice: When my Superiours are froward and perver&s;e, I have docility and patience; when they are &s;uch
<PB REF="11"> as they ought to be, I have thankfull acknowledgement, &amp; love. To tho&s;e that are bad I give my &s;ilence and di&s;cretion, but neither do I forbeare to &s;peak well of tho&s;e that are good, nor to prai&s;e things that are prai&s;e|worthy. For what concernes you, <HI>My Lord,</HI> I know that you endeavour more for the &s;olidity of vertue, then for its pompe, and that you had rather fight, then triumph. Yet &s;ince your mode&s;ty is &s;uch, that it often|times rejects truth, you ought not to be believed in your own cau&s;e, and I lawfully except a|gain&s;t you. Your Moderation mu&s;t not hinder our acknow|ledgement, nor mu&s;t wee be ungratefull, becau&s;e you are &s;hamefa&s;t. It is true, there are certaine bounds within
<PB REF="12"> which the mo&s;t violent affecti|ons ought to containe them|&s;elves, and becau&s;e I have be|gun to quote Latine, I will owe you that &s;aying of <HI>Tacitus, Pe&s;&s;i|mum Inimicorum genus Laudan|tes:</HI> Pray&s;ers are the wor&s;t kinde of Enemies. But communica|ting to no other what is due to the King alone, nor be&s;towing the honour of &s;ucce&s;&s;es el&s;e|where; they cannot take it ill that I repre&s;ent you as a wi&s;e and faithfull <HI>Mini&s;ter,</HI> that acts by the orders and commands of a great <HI>Prince,</HI> and who &s;eeks for no other glory but that of o|beying and &s;erving well. Men need not be a&s;toni&s;hed, that a|mong &s;o many unju&s;t pa&s;&s;ions and groundle&s;&s;e murmurings, there are found free judgements and voices that ble&s;&s;e your car|riage
<PB REF="12"> of bu&s;ine&s;&s;es. And cer|tainly, in a time when you are &s;o powerfully and &s;o violently a&s;&s;aulted, there would be a want of the duties of humanity not to &s;tudy to finde out &s;ome con|&s;olation for your di&s;plea&s;ures, and to &s;ee an Innocent &s;uffer without giving him one &s;igh, or comforting him with one word. It is not enough, <HI>My Lord,</HI> that you are a&s;&s;ur'd of the Protection of your <HI>Ma&s;ter,</HI> and of the good &s;tate of your Con|&s;cience, you have &s;till need of the opinion of men, and of the Te&s;timony of the Publicke. You apprehend not the danger of your Per&s;on, nor the ruine of your fortune, but you ap|prehend blame, and evill repu|tation; You are afraid of di&s;ho|ne&s;t things though you con|temne
<PB REF="13"> dangerous ones. And therefore this ought to bee a &s;weet &s;adne&s;&s;e, and a misfor|tune, which you may &s;tile glo|rious; to know, together with all good men, that you &s;uffer for Ju&s;tice, and that your cau&s;e is that of the <HI>King,</HI> and of the State. If it grieves you that you are not in the favour of a great Prince&s;&s;e, at lea&s;t you have not any remor&s;e for being unfaith|full to her; and if you have not had complacencie enough to performe all her de&s;ires, wee know that you have too much hone&s;ty to have done any thing again&s;t her &s;ervice. It is no &s;mall comfort to your mind, that the taking of <HI>Rochell,</HI> where you did mo&s;t profitable &s;ervice; and the reliefe of <HI>Cazal,</HI> to which you contributed very much, are
<PB REF="13"> the onely Crimes which make you guiltie; and that the lu&s;ter of what you have done abroad being not able to be &s;upported at the Court, &s;trangers are come to mingle them&s;elves in this dome&s;tick Jealou&s;ie, and to try to ruine him, whom they could not gain.</P>
<P>This is the fountaine of our la&s;t evils. The Credulity of the be&s;t Queene in the world hath &s;erv'd for an innocent In&s;tru|ment for the malice of our ene|mies, and the Reque&s;t &s;he made to the <HI>King,</HI> to remove you from his affaires, was not &s;o much an effect of her indigna|tion again&s;t you, as the fir&s;t blow of the Con&s;piracie framed again&s;t <HI>France,</HI> and which was di&s;gui&s;'d to her under the vaile of devotion, that &s;he might be|lieve
<PB REF="14"> &s;he merited in ruining you. The King would have given her all the rea&s;onable &s;atisfa|ction hereupon that &s;hee could de&s;ire. Hee was many times your Advocate, and Interce&s;|&s;our towards her: Hee would have bin your &s;urety, and have an&s;wered for your fidelity. On your part <HI>My Lord,</HI> you have forgot nothing wherby to en|deavour to a&s;&s;wage her &s;pirit; &s;he hath &s;eene you at her feete a&s;king her favour, though you might have demanded ju&s;tice: &s;he hath &s;eene you make your &s;elfe guilty and wronging your owne Innocency to give her place to pardon you. You have put your &s;elfe in all po&s;tures of duty to move her, and if &s;he would have believed no body but her &s;elfe you had prevail'd
<PB REF="14"> with her: But tho&s;e evill &s;pirits which environ'd her, and who more de&s;ired your de&s;truction then her contentment, made new batteries, thereby to har|den her heart, which began to be mollified: They hindered the effect which wee expected from your &s;ubmi&s;&s;ions and from the Kings intreaties, they wrought upon her good di&s;po&s;ition which began to yeeld and re|lent, and had it not beene for their devili&s;h &s;lights we &s;hould have &s;een her full of glory and Maje&s;tie, bearing a part in all the thoughts of her Son; and wee &s;hould &s;ee you again receiving ordinarily from her mouth the commands of your Ma&s;ter: But &s;he di&s;relli&s;heth the one and the other, and will remain &s;till in her former per&s;wa&s;ion. The
<PB REF="15"> King, who hath granted her the pardon of more then forty thou&s;and guilty per&s;ons, could not obtain from her the favour for one Innocent; and hee that is come to the end of the ob&s;ti|nacie of the Rebels, nor hath undertaken any thing without &s;ucce&s;&s;e, hath petition'd his Mo|ther to no purpo&s;e. This made Him oppo&s;e a nece&s;&s;ary con&s;tan|cy again&s;t &s;o &s;trange a re&s;oluti|on, and to re&s;olve not to plea|&s;ure his Enemies with the ba|ni&s;hment of his &s;ervants. Hee retain'd you then, when you pre&s;&s;'d him to give you leave to retire; and being ready to yeeld to the times, and to give place to envie, hee made it appeare that he was &s;tronger then ma|lice, and that he could change the time when he pleas'd: Hee
<PB REF="15"> did not believe that hee offen|ded Nature not to abandon ver|tue, nor that it was a &s;in again&s;t maternall Duty, not to violate friend&s;hip: and remembring perhaps that our Lord called his di&s;ciples his Mother and his Brethren, and &s;aid in the &s;ame place, <HI>That he that doth his will, the &s;ame is his Brother, and Si&s;ter, and Mother,</HI> He con&s;i|dered that Kings ought not &s;o to re&s;pect Proximity, as to make no account of affection; and that to raigne, they have indeed need of Alliances and Kindred, but neither mu&s;t they let pa&s;&s;e &s;ervants and obedi|ence.</P>
<P>Behold then your &s;elfe, <HI>My Lord,</HI> maintain'd by the nece&s;|&s;itie of your Services, and the Intere&s;ts of State, behold your
<PB REF="16"> &s;elfe above the winds and tem|pe&s;ts. The complaints made a|gain&s;t you have onely a&s;&s;ured your <HI>Ma&s;ter,</HI> that you are more to him then they could de&s;ire; The blow wherewith they thought to make you fall, &s;erv'd onely to &s;et you the fa|&s;ter, and that force which gave the &s;hock to your fortune, with|out being able to &s;hake it, &s;hew'd us the &s;olidity of its matter. Neverthele&s;&s;e being good and vertuous as you are, I imagine you are not content with this Fortune if you po&s;|&s;e&s;&s;e it not with the con&s;ent of the whole world: It cannot be more powerfull and more firm then it is, but it may be more &s;weet and delightfull. You ne|ver received &s;o great honours, but you have ta&s;ted purer joyes:
<PB REF="16"> Never were there more victo|ries nor more advantages over the Stranger, and never more inte&s;tine mi&s;chiefs and tumult in the Hou&s;e. This di&s;order which you have no way caus'd greatly afflicts you, and I know you would with all your heart that every thing were in its place. I doubt not but you be|waile the misfortune of a Mi|&s;tre&s;&s;e whom you have condu|cted by your Services to the ut|mo&s;t degree of felicitie, and that having laboured &s;o long and &s;o affectionately the perfect Union of their Maje&s;ties, it is a &s;en&s;ible di&s;plea&s;ure to you at this day to &s;ee your labours ruin'd, and your worke fallen to the ground: You would be willing I a&s;&s;ure my &s;elfe, you had dyed at <HI>Rochel,</HI> becau&s;e till
<PB REF="17"> then you were in the Queenes good opinion. I believe amid&s;t the complaints that &s;he makes, all the prai&s;es that come to you from el&s;ewhere are importu|nate, and that even your merit is in &s;ome &s;ort odious to you, &s;ince it hath not her approbati|on. God will di&s;pell one day the&s;e clouds, and will &s;end her more upright thoughts of your fidelitie.</P>
<P>But expecting till this bee brought to pa&s;&s;e, and that bu|&s;ine&s;&s;es receive &s;ome accom|modation, it &s;hall not trouble you if for &s;ome houres I turne your eyes from the&s;e &s;ad ob|jects which afflict you, and pre|&s;ent you with the Image of a happier &s;ea&s;on then this here pre&s;ent. I thinke I am in&s;pir'd by my good Angel to bound
<PB REF="17"> my de&s;ign with the fir&s;t voyage for <HI>Italy;</HI> Before, <HI>My Lord,</HI> that your pro&s;peritie was envied, that your friends fail'd of their fidelitie, that the Queene had changed her affections, and that the exploits of the Armie were weakened by the clo&s;e dealings of the Clo&s;et. I meddle not with the&s;e hatefull Subjects, nor have the heart to handle wounds &s;o fre&s;h and bleeding. I will onely &s;peak of what hath preceded our mi&s;eries, and in all this I will onely warrant my intention. It is very good, <HI>My Lord,</HI> and hath nothing for its object but the &s;ervice of the <HI>King,</HI> but perhaps it is ill ma|naged, and arrives not whither it tends. I know I am a good <HI>Frenchman,</HI> and extreamly love my Countrey; but I know not
<PB REF="18"> whether I am a good Politi|cian, or &s;ufficiently acquainted with our affaires; without doubt I have more courage, then &s;trength, and more zeale then knowledge: And this pro|te&s;tation I made at the entrance into my worke; that no body might de deceiv'd, and that they might &s;earch there rather for &s;omething which may ex|cite love towards their Coun|trey, then which &s;hould in&s;truct them with things new and cu|rious. I declare from the be|ginning that I have not any bo|dies a&s;&s;i&s;tance, that I have recei|ved neither Notes nor in&s;tru|ctions, and that I walke with|out a guide or a Companion; And therefore if I commit any faults, I have onely done what I &s;hould, and they mu&s;t be ta|ken
<PB REF="18"> as proceeding from a man who &s;ees things afar off, and from without, and &s;tayes at the appearance of publicke af|faires, without penetrating into their inward parts which are hid from him.</P>
<P>I could enter pre&s;ently upon my matter, and take a &s;horter way then that which I have fol|lowed; but I had a de&s;igne to prepare their minds by a plea|&s;ant di&s;cour&s;e to one more &s;e|rious, and to deferre &s;omething after the manner of the Anti|ents. You know <HI>my Lord,</HI> that the mo&s;t part of them, make <HI>Proems</HI> to their bookes which have no agreement with their Subject, and which are like heads fa&s;tened on, which you may put upon all bodies. And this is &s;o true, that <HI>Cicero</HI> writes
<PB REF="19"> of him&s;elfe that hee had a vo|lume of re&s;erves whence hee drew out when hee had any need for the beginning of his workes. So that by chance ha|ving prefix'd before his booke of Glory, the &s;ame Preface which hee had already put to his third booke of the <HI>Acade|mickes,</HI> hee reque&s;ted <HI>Atticus</HI> very plea&s;antly to cut off that fir&s;t booke, and put another which he &s;ent him in its place. In the&s;e Prefaces they did ordi|narily di&s;cour&s;e of the affaires and Government of the Com|mon-wealth, they complain'd of the corruption of the Age, they related to the world their imployments in the City, and their exerci&s;es in the field; and after that, in&s;tead of de&s;cen|ding gently, and as it were by
<PB REF="19"> degrees into their matter in hand, you would &s;ay that they precipitated them&s;elves, &s;o &s;ud|denly and all at once doe they fall upon it. All the <HI>Exordiums</HI> of <HI>Salu&s;t</HI> are of this kinde, and would as well fit <HI>Cicero's</HI> Books, as his: After hee hath declaim'd of vice and vertue, and has thrown him&s;elf upon an infinite rea&s;oning, hee goes not out at the doore, where he &s;ees him&s;elf &s;hut up, but e&s;capes forth by a breach, and breaking off on a &s;uddaine where they thought hee would have gone on; let us come &s;aith he to the bu&s;ine&s;&s;e in hand; The <HI>Greekes</HI> are more licentious herein, then he. <HI>Dion Chry&s;o&s;tome</HI> en|ters not ordinarily upon his &s;ubject till the end of his di&s;|cour&s;e; and if we take from his
<PB REF="20"> Ma&s;ter <HI>Plato</HI> his long Prefaces, his fabulous narrations, his im|portunate Digre&s;&s;ions, we &s;hall make him &s;horter by halfe then he is: Both of them are like lit|tle women undre&s;t, who having put off their Tyres and their Cheopines, are but a piece of them&s;elves. <HI>Plutarch</HI> doubtle&s;&s;e is one of the mo&s;t advi&s;ed and mo&s;t judicious of the latter <HI>Greeks,</HI> but yet he is fallen into the vice of his age and of his Countrey; and he who can rid him&s;elf of the Treati&s;e which hee hath made of the Familiar &s;pirit of <HI>Socrates,</HI> &s;hall ea&s;ily be able to get out of a Labyrinth. Chri&s;tian Authours ought to be more au&s;tere, and le&s;&s;e cu|rious after &s;trange ornaments, yet they cea&s;e not to give &s;ome|thing to cu&s;tome, and to wan|ton
<PB REF="20"> it out of their Subject.</P>
<P>And not to trouble you with a tedious ennumeration: The Dialogue which <HI>Minutius Felix</HI> hath made to ju&s;tifie our Reli|gion again&s;t the Calumnies of the <HI>Pagans,</HI> hath a beginning no whit at all &s;erious, and very far from the gravity of his matter. And Saint <HI>Cyprian</HI> in that letter &s;o much e&s;teemed which hee wrote to <HI>Donatus</HI> being a very &s;evere Cen&s;ure of the manners of his age by a de&s;cription purely Poeticall, and by a Di&s;cour&s;e as gaudy and florid as if hee would have &s;poken of Love or rehear&s;ed a Fa|ble.</P>
<P>As for mee who have un|dertaken a labour of a long breath, I would not altoge|ther imitate the Antients,
<PB REF="21"> which to their workes fa|&s;ten others, neither would I altogether avoid them. I have made a Preface where I have &s;poken as plea&s;antly as I could of the plea&s;ures of the <HI>Autumne,</HI> becau&s;e it was the time of the concep|tion of my <HI>Prince:</HI> Neither have I forgotten the Coun|trey where I was, becau&s;e it is the place of his birth, I have beene very glad to give account upon occa&s;ion of the entertainment of my Soli|tude, and to ju&s;tifie the lei&s;ure of a retired per&s;on again&s;t tho&s;e that accu&s;e him of &s;loth and idlene&s;&s;e. Be&s;ides that by the Conclu&s;ion you may &s;ee the whole bu&s;ine&s;&s;e is to my purpo&s;e, and the adventure which gave occa|&s;ion
<PB REF="21"> to my de&s;igne, and which is Hi&s;toricall and true, happening to mee at the River &s;ide which I de|&s;cribe, whereof my de|&s;criptions which are not per|haps tedious, are &s;ometimes nece&s;&s;ary, and may be con|&s;idered as Circum&s;tances of the Action which I repre&s;ent, &amp;c.</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>De&s;unt caetera.</SIGNED>
<DATELINE><DATE><HI>March</HI> 3. 1631.</DATE></DATELINE></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="dedication">
<PB REF="22">
<HEAD>To my LORD the Cardinall of <HI>Richelieu.</HI></HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>My Lord,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>_BEing &s;till detained here by &s;ome affaires which I cannot neg|lect without loo&s;ing them; I &s;uffer with much griefe &s;o hard a nece&s;&s;ity, and e&s;teem my &s;elfe as it were bani&s;hed in my own Countrey, &s;eeing I am &s;o long &s;eparated from you. I deny not but the victorious and trium|phant Newes, which comes daily to us from the Armie, gives mee &s;ome motion of Joy, and that I am very &s;en&s;ibly affected with the noi&s;e which your Name makes on
<PB REF="22"> all &s;ides. But my &s;atisfaction can|not be intire to learne from the re|lations of another, tho&s;e things whereof I my &s;elfe &s;hould bear wit|ne&s;&s;e. And I conceive &s;o much plea&s;ure to con&s;ider you in your Glo|ry, that there is not any Souldier beyond the Mountaines under your Command, who&s;e good fortune I do not envie.</P>
<P>I forbeare not therefore, <HI>My Lord,</HI> &s;ince I cannot &s;erve you with my body and my actions, to adore you night and day in my thoughts, and to employ &s;o de&s;er|ved a wor&s;hip the noble&s;t part of my &s;elfe. You are next after the King the Eternall object of my mind; I &s;carce ever divert it from the cour&s;e of your Life; and if you have more diligent Courtiers then I, and which render you their re|&s;pects with more &s;hew and o&s;tenta|tion,
<PB REF="23"> I am certaine you have not a|ny &s;ervant more faithfull, nor who&s;e affection comes more from the heart, or is more lively and na|turall: But that my words may not &s;eem vain and groundle&s;&s;e, I &s;end you the proofe of what I &s;ay, where|by you &s;hall know, that a man per|&s;waded has a great inclination to per&s;wade others, and that di&s;cour&s;e grounded upon things, and anima|ted with truth, moves the minds of men with more force, and pro|cures more credit and beliefe, then that which bu&s;y's it &s;elfe to coun|terfeit only and declame.</P>
<P>It is a part <HI>My Lord,</HI> drawne from its body, a piece which I have &s;natched from the labours I have undertaken: To who&s;e perfection I prote&s;t freely, that all the houres of lei&s;ure more quiet then mine, and all the powers and faculties of
<PB REF="23"> a Soule more elevated then ordi|narily, had found enough where|with to be imployed. Here are handled the vertue and victories of the <HI>King;</HI> the Ju&s;tice of his Armes: Royalty, and Tyranny: 'Tis a di&s;cour&s;e of u&s;urpers and of lawfull <HI>Princes,</HI> of Rebellion cha|&s;tis'd, and Libertie maintain'd: But &s;eeing the <HI>Prince,</HI> of whom I &s;peak, makes no &s;top, and that fol|lowing him I mu&s;t needs ingage my &s;elfe into an infinite &s;ubject, I have pre&s;crib'd my &s;elfe &s;ome bounds which I could not meet with in his actions; And after the Example of <HI>Homer,</HI> who ended his Iliads with the death of <HI>Hector,</HI> though then there was not an end of the warre, I would not proceed further then the ta|king of <HI>Suza,</HI> though it was but the beginning of tho&s;e wonders
<PB REF="24"> which we have &s;eene. Now, your <HI>Lord&s;hip</HI> knowes, that this wa<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> of writing which I have propo&s;ed to my &s;elf, is, without compari&s;on the barrenne&s;t that is, and which can hardly continue active, o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> make any durable on&s;ets. This pray&s;e is given to Oratours; t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> tho&s;e I &s;ay that know how to per|&s;wade; who can plea&s;e with profi|ting; who render people capable of the &s;ecrets of civill pollicie. For as for Philo&s;ophers who hav<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> written thereof, their di&s;cour&s;e i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> commonly &s;o dry and &s;aple&s;&s;e; tha<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> their intention &s;eemes to be rather to in&s;truct, then to plea&s;e; and be|&s;ides their &s;tyle is &s;o intricate and thorny, that it &s;eemes they are wil|ling to teach none but the learned. This hath no more difficulty in it, then to heale tho&s;e that are well; and to be ob&s;cure there is no more
<PB REF="24"> requir'd then to &s;tay at the fir&s;t no|tions which wee have of truth, which are never very neate nor well extracted, and which fall from the fancie upon the paper in the &s;ame confu&s;ion they are fir&s;t pre&s;ented to it, re&s;embling rather deformed abortions, then perfect productions. Be&s;ides, in the com|po&s;ure of a Hi&s;torie where the Poli|tician beares rule, an Authour is carryed by his matter, and the things being done ready to his hand, which ea&s;eth him of the trou|ble of Invention, as the progre&s;&s;e of time gives him his order, hee is &s;carce bound to any thing el&s;e then to contribute words: which &s;ome have accounted &s;o &s;mall; that <HI>Me|nander</HI> being pre&s;t to put forth a piece that hee had promi&s;ed, It is already, &s;aid he, there wants one|ly the words. But in the per&s;wa|&s;ive
<PB REF="25"> way, be&s;ides that wee mu&s;t make u&s;e of the choi&s;e&s;t words, and place them with greater evenne&s;&s;e then in bare narrations, which for all their lu&s;ter and richne&s;&s;e of ex|pre&s;&s;ion de&s;ire onely the per&s;picuity and propriety of the tearmes. Tho&s;e that de&s;ire to &s;ucceed effectually herein, force them&s;elves to put in u&s;e, &amp; to reduce into action the mo&s;t &s;ubtile Ideas of Rhetoricke; to rai&s;e their rea&s;on to the highe&s;t point of things; to &s;eek out in every mat|ter things lea&s;t expo&s;ed to the com|mon view, and to render them &s;e<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> familiar, that tho&s;e that cannot perceive them, may yet touch them. Their de&s;igne is to joyne plea&s;ure with profit, to mingle delight with plenty, and to fight not onely with good and &s;trong armes, but al&s;o with faire and glittering ones. They try to civilize Learning,
<PB REF="25"> changing it from the fa&s;hion of the Colledge, and delivering it out of the hands of <HI>Pedants</HI> who &s;poile, and defile it in the handling; who are, as we may &s;o &s;ay, its Corrupters and Adulterers, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">d abu&s;e in the face of all the world a thing &s;o faire and excellent: They never defend them&s;elves from rockes, by turning from them, but try to &s;lide gently over them: to e&s;cape out of difficult places and not to avoid them: to goe before malicious In|terpreters by a word which de|&s;troyes the conclu&s;ion they thought to draw thence; and to make it ap|peare that there is nothing &s;o har&s;h, nothing &s;o di&s;ta&s;tfull which is not tempered and made &s;oft by di&s;|cour&s;e. At la&s;t they &s;uffer them|&s;elves &s;ometimes to be carried a|way with that rationall fury which Rhetoritians know very well;
<PB REF="26"> but which is beyond their rules and precepts: which moves the Ora|tour with &s;uch &s;trange pa&s;&s;ions, that they &s;eeme rather in&s;pir'd then naturall, and with which <HI>Demo&s;thenes</HI> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nd <HI>Cicero</HI> being po&s;&s;e&s;&s;'d, the one &s;wore by tho&s;e that dyed at <HI>Marathon,</HI> and dei|fied them by his owne private Au|thoritie: The other a&s;k'd the Hills and Forre&s;ts of <HI>Alba,</HI> as if it had been their duty to an&s;wer him. But if I were arrived to &s;o noble a height, which I neither dare, nor can believe, and could I &s;hew &s;trange Nations, that in <HI>France</HI> all things are changed into the bet|ter under &s;o happy a raigne as that of the Kings, and that hee aug|ments our wit, as well as increa|&s;eth our Courage, I &s;hould not for all this de&s;erve the glory, but I mu&s;t referre it wholly to the felici|ty,
<PB REF="26"> of my times and to the force of my &s;ubject.</P>
<P>If in all ca&s;es <HI>My Lord,</HI> I can|not obtain a place among knowing and skilfull men, I will not be deny|ed one among&s;t hone&s;t and affectio|nate Servants; and if my Capa|citie be not worthy to be had in con|&s;ideration of, by you, my zeale at lea&s;t de&s;erves not to be rejected. Certainly I am many times &s;o mo|ved, that I doubt not but my re|&s;entments plea&s;e you, and it is a plea&s;ant recreation for you to be|hold a Philo&s;opher in anger. And though true love bee &s;ufficiently content with the Te&s;timony of the con&s;cience, and I render you many proofes of my mo&s;t humble &s;ervice, that I a&s;&s;ure my &s;elfe you could ne|ver know, I de&s;ire neverthele&s;&s;e &s;ome times for your &s;atisfaction, that you could heare me from the
<PB REF="27"> place where you are, and &s;ee with what advantage I di&s;pute the pub|like cau&s;e: How I confute the fal&s;e Newes which are made currant, and how I &s;top their mouthes that would &s;peake di&s;advantageou&s;ly of our affaires: It is certain they cannot be more flouri&s;hing, nor the &s;ucce&s;&s;e of the Kings Army more glorious, nor the re&s;t of the people more a&s;&s;ur'd, nor your admini&s;tra|tion more judicious. And yet wee meet with &s;ome &s;pirits who are vexed at their own good, who can|not indure their happine&s;&s;e, nor be kept in a good beliefe but by &s;uper|naturall pro&s;perities, who have no more faith a&s;&s;oone as there cea&s;eth to be a miracle. When the pre&s;ent affaires are in good condition they make evill judgements of the fu|ture, and in pro&s;perous events their pre&s;ages are alwaies tragicall; they
<PB REF="27"> &s;weare they e&s;teeme nothing but &s;trangers and forraigne things: They admire <HI>Spinola,</HI> becau&s;e he is an <HI>Italian</HI> and not of their Par|ty; and they are troubled to prai&s;e the King becau&s;e hee is a <HI>French|man</HI> and their Ma&s;ter; they will &s;carce confe&s;&s;e hee hath conquer'd after &s;o many Cities taken, &s;o ma|ny Factions ruin'd, who are the e|ternall Monuments of his Victo|ries, and it hath been ea&s;ier for him to merit e&s;teeme over all <HI>Europe,</HI> then to gain their approbation. They would per&s;wade us if they could, that he had rais'd the &s;iege from before <HI>Rochell,</HI> and made a di&s;honourable peace with the <HI>Hu|genotes;</HI> that he hath been beaten by the <HI>Engli&s;h,</HI> and that the <HI>Spa|niards</HI> have made him flee: If they could they would blot out his Hi&s;tory, and quench the greate&s;t
<PB REF="28"> &s;plendour which ought to enligh|ten po&s;terity. I doubt not but they looke with evill eyes in any Booke upon the Images of things which &s;o greatly offend them: And tho&s;e that believe Fables &amp; <HI>Romances,</HI> and grow extream pa&s;&s;ionate for a <HI>Hercules</HI> or an <HI>Achilles,</HI> who it is po&s;&s;ible never were; who are tran&s;ported when they reade the Actions of <HI>Roland,</HI> and <HI>Ren|nould,</HI> which were acted onely up|pon the paper, will not relli&s;h Truth becau&s;e it beares witne&s;&s;e to the vertue of their <HI>Prince.</HI> They will be content, that again&s;t the faith of all Antiquity, <HI>Xenophon</HI> who was a <HI>Grecian,</HI> and no <HI>Per|&s;ian</HI> hath dreamt out a life of <HI>Cy|rus</HI> according to his fancy, and that he makes him dye in his bed, a|mong his friends, though the truth is, that he dyed in the warre and
<PB REF="28"> was overcome by a woman.</P>
<P>They allow that <HI>Pliny</HI> &s;hould lye in a full Senate, and prai&s;e <HI>Trajan</HI> for his Temperance and Cha&s;tity, though it be true that he was gi|ven to wine, and to another vice &s;o foule, that it cannot hone&s;tly bee named; and yet they take it ill that being born the Kings Subject, I &s;peak of him what no body can de|ny, and that re&s;olving to pre&s;ent an example to <HI>Princes,</HI> I chu&s;e ra|ther his life, then <HI>Cyru&s;'es</HI> which is fabulous, or then that of <HI>Trajan</HI> which is not very cleane: Not to &s;peake of <HI>Cae&s;ar Borgia's</HI> all black with Crimes and lazi|ne&s;&s;e: Heaven cannot make the&s;e people a Superior to plea&s;e them; He that was after Gods own heart, would not bee after theirs: They would not find <HI>Solomon</HI> wi&s;e e|nough, nor <HI>Alexander</HI> valiant
<PB REF="29"> enough. They are generally ene|mies to all <HI>Ma&s;ters,</HI> and the Ac|cu&s;ers of all pre&s;ent bu&s;ine&s;&s;es; they will breake a mans head with cry|ing, that it was not nece&s;&s;ary t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> make warre in <HI>Italy;</HI> but if you had &s;taid at <HI>Paris,</HI> they had cryed louder, that it had bin di&s;hone&s;ty to &s;uffer his Allyes to be lo&s;t. Be|cau&s;e &s;ome of our <HI>Kings</HI> have made unfortunate voyages beyond the Mountaines, therefore they main|tain that he who followes not the &s;ame Coun&s;els, mu&s;t neverthele&s;&s;e fall into the &s;ame misfortunes They fight again&s;t your managing of bu&s;ine&s;&s;es with old Proverbs, be|cau&s;e they cannot touch it with good rea&s;ons: They alleadge that <HI>Italy</HI> is the buriall place of the <HI>French,</HI> and being not able to ob|&s;erve one fault that you have com|mitted in that Countrey, they re|proach
<PB REF="29"> you with that of our Fa|thers, and accu&s;e you of the im|prudence of <HI>CHARLES</HI> the eight. I &s;uppo&s;e they &s;inne rather out of infirmitie, then malice; that they are rather pa&s;&s;ionate through their opinions, then Pen|&s;ionaries of our Enemies; and that they have more need of the Reme|dies of Phi&s;ick, then of tho&s;e of the Lawes.</P>
<P>Therefore it is a vexation to &s;ee the Impertinents of this Age hold the &s;ame language with the Rebels of the pa&s;&s;'d, and to abu&s;e the benefit of Liberty again&s;t him that hath procured it for us. They come every day to tell me that wee &s;hall receive much di&s;advan|tage from the di&s;content of a <HI>Prince</HI> which is &s;eparated from us; and I an&s;wer them, it is much better to have a weake Enemy to
<PB REF="30"> combate with, then a querulous friend to pre&s;erve.</P>
<P>They will have the King at any rate to relieve <HI>Cazal,</HI> and I &s;ay he hath done it already by the Con|que&s;t of <HI>Savoy,</HI> and in the condi|tion hee hath now put his affaires, at the wor&s;t, it will be taken onely to be &s;urrendred againe. They are not content to have you execute extraordinary actions, They would have you doe impo&s;&s;ible ones: And though there grow &s;ometimes &s;uch difficulties in things which cannot be &s;urmounted by rea&s;on of the repugnancy of the Subject, and not for the default of the under|taker, they are not an&s;wered with tho&s;e rea&s;ons wherewith wi&s;e men re&s;t &s;atisfied, and many times would have the <HI>King</HI> doe that which the great <HI>Turke</HI> and the <HI>Per&s;ian</HI> joyn'd together cannot d<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">.</P>
<PB REF="30">
<P>All this, <HI>My Lord,</HI> would cau&s;e in mee a great indignation, neither &s;hould I bee able to indure that exce&s;&s;e of Ingratitude, but that I know there was a malicious &s;pirit which found fault with the workes of God, and was not afraid to &s;ay, that had he bin of his Coun&s;ell, as well in the Creation of the world, as in the Government of it, he could have given him better advice then he had taken, and then u&s;ually he followed. Af|ter &s;o high a folly you neede not think it &s;trange that &s;ome men are extravagant; The <HI>Common People</HI> have alwayes beene an unequall Judge of vertue; but yet &s;he hath never wanted admi|rers; and if tho&s;e who have no|thing but a little In&s;tinct, and can onely murmure are not favour|able to her, it is our part <HI>My
<PB REF="31"> Lord</HI> to beare witne&s;&s;e that rea&s;on|able men, and tho&s;e that know how to &s;peake are of the good Party.</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Your mo&s;t humble and mo&s;t obe|dient Servant <HI>Balzac.</HI></SIGNED> <DATELINE><DATE><HI>Aug. 4. 1630.</HI></DATE></DATELINE></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="preface">
<PB REF="31">
<HEAD>The Preface.</HEAD>
<P>_I Have beene long enough in the world, but have lived onely during the la&s;t Autumne; and becau&s;e it is not po&s;&s;ible to recall tho&s;e happy dayes which were &s;o deare to me, I &s;hall en|deavour to retain &s;ome relli&s;h of them by remembrance and di&s;cour&s;e. The liberty where|in I found my &s;elf after 3. years Captivity, (for &s;o I call my a|bode in the City) the purity of the ayre which I began to
<PB REF="32"> breath, and as eagerly drew in, as if it had beene &s;ome new-found nouri&s;hment; the &s;mi|ling face of the field, which yet &s;hewed forth &s;ome part of its riches, and dre&s;t it &s;elfe with the la&s;t pre&s;ents it would be|&s;tow on us mortals, all the&s;e rendered my thoughts &s;o de|lightfull and calme, that not at all &s;tirred with the pa&s;&s;ion of joy, I remain'd po&s;&s;e&s;&s;'d of its plea&s;ure.</P>
<P>Tho&s;e other more importu|nate maladies of the &s;oule, which torment the Court, and &s;olemne A&s;&s;emblies, did not at all approach our village; I knew not what it was to hope or feare; nor was I any longer acquainted with &s;u&s;picion, di&s;tru&s;t, or jealou&s;ie. All my owne pa&s;&s;ions were at re&s;t, and
<PB REF="32"> tho&s;e of others reach'd not me. Envie and hatred which are &s;o cruelly fa&s;tened to that &s;mall &s;hadow of good, which &s;ome men &s;eemed to di&s;cern among my many faults, a&s;&s;aulting me where I was not, did mee no hurt that I felt; and the pre&s;ent objects did &s;o fill my &s;pirits, and &s;o cleerely deface the im|pre&s;&s;ion of what had pa&s;&s;'d, that as they left no place for future apprehen&s;ions, &s;o there remai|ned no di&s;quietne&s;&s;e to trouble my memory.</P>
<P>In this condition, farre diffe|rent from the tumult from whence I departed, and under the &s;erenity of &s;o benigne an In|fluence of heaven, I &s;eemed to be really new borne, and to a&s;&s;i&s;t at this new production of all things. And truly had wee,
<PB REF="33"> during that &s;ea&s;on, obtain'd the Government of the world, and bin our &s;elves permitted to make the dayes; we could not have had fairer; nor have di|&s;pen&s;ed &s;hade and light, cold and heate with a more equall mea&s;ure.</P>
<P>There aro&s;e a &s;mall thin mi&s;t from the neighbouring River which wrapp'd up as it were in a bottome, thence di&s;per&s;'d it &s;elfe over the &s;urface of the earth. But for a&s;much as it tarryed not for the Sun to di&s;|pell it, neither could abide its fir&s;t rayes, it never had &s;o much &s;trength as to a&s;cend as high as our lowe&s;t windowes; and we injoy'd a mo&s;t faire calme and lively brightne&s;&s;e, whil'&s;t there was &s;ome trouble and &s;moake below us. Before wee
<PB REF="33"> were dre&s;t and had &s;aid our prayers, that moy&s;ture which had bedewed onely the tops of the gra&s;&s;e, was wholly wi|ped off, and the fre&s;hne&s;&s;e of the morning was no longer moi&s;t or &s;harpe, &s;o that there was left a convenient time to take a walke till noone, and to do tho&s;e exerci&s;es, which re|create the body without wea|rying it, and which moderate|ly awaken the appetite with|out carrying it to a di&s;or|derly hunger, which com|monly followes violent mo|tions, and retaines &s;omething of a di&s;ea&s;e.</P>
<P>The former part of the after|noone, was pa&s;&s;'d over in fami|liar di&s;cour&s;e; from whence we bani&s;h'd all affaires of State, controver&s;ies of Religion, and
<PB REF="34"> que&s;tions of Philo&s;ophy. There none eagerly di&s;puted whether the Pope was above a Coun|cell; no body troubled him&s;elf to unite the <HI>Princes</HI> of Chri|&s;tendome; to make a league a|gain&s;t the <HI>Turke;</HI> It was not violently debated, who was the greate&s;t Captaine, <HI>Marque&s;&s;e Spinola,</HI> or <HI>Count Tilly:</HI> No bo|dy reformed Kingdomes, nor would change their Govern|ments; It was not permitted &s;o much as to name the publicke, nor the age; we talk'd of no|thing but the goodne&s;&s;e of our Melons, the reaping of our corne, the hope of our vintage. Our di&s;cour&s;e once ended, the Company parted, and of foure which wee were, one went to the Groves, another to the Garden, a third to a Gallery
<PB REF="34"> where there were Cards and Tables; for me, I retir'd to my Chamber, and tryed to &s;lum|ber over a booke, as little &s;eri|ous as our former di&s;cour&s;e had bin: But the day beginning to decline, and the remainder of the heate being now no more trouble&s;ome to be indured then the &s;team of a luke-warm Bath, I u&s;ually went a hor&s;eback, and rode from my lodging thorow a long alley of white mulber|ries, which led mee to the Ri|ver; then who&s;e Chry&s;tall &s;treames nothing could be &s;een more cleare and plea&s;ant; and <HI>Ron&s;ard</HI> doth great wrong to derive it from <HI>Acheron,</HI> and to conceive that it is an arme of that di&s;mall Lake, who&s;e wa|ters are repre&s;ented to us &s;o black and muddy: It is rather
<PB REF="35"> a continued fountaine from its fir&s;t ri&s;e till it empties it &s;elf into the Sea; where, after it hath run 30. Leagues, it entereth &s;o fre&s;h and pure, as if but then it i&s;&s;ued from the Spring head: It generally manures all that it watereth, and if the &s;ame Countrey be extreamly barren and extreamly fertile, they are the effects of its remotene&s;&s;e &amp; of its pre&s;ence. At that part of it where I did chiefly re&s;t my &s;elf, it runs beneath certain lit|le hills, which are green from the top to the bottome with a bru&s;hie wood which they bear; and the de&s;cent being very &s;teep, you would &s;ay the trees are not planted there but tyed, or that they creep there, and not grow, they &s;eem to have &s;uch &s;lender hold. In &s;ome pla|ces
<PB REF="35"> the river is broad enough in others the channell &s;o thru&s;ts it &s;elfe together, that the Pop lars which grow on each &s;id &s;eem to ki&s;&s;e, and joyning thei boughes toge her, embrace one another with &s;o hand&s;ome an evenne&s;&s;e, that an Arbour can|not bee better made if art and the workmans violence had twi&s;ted them.</P>
<P>There, not being able to do what <HI>Scipio</HI> and <HI>Laelius</HI> did at the Sea-&s;ide, where they onely counted the waves and gathe|red Cockles; I had the plea|&s;ure to behold in the bottome of the water tho&s;e things which pa&s;&s;ed in the ayre, and to &s;ee that &s;wim, which looking up I &s;aw fly above.</P>
<P>This med<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">tation entertained me while&s;t I expected the &s;et|ting
<PB REF="36"> of the Sun, at what time I never failed to be in the middle of the meddow that I might con&s;ider at my ea&s;e that rich effu&s;&s;ion of Colours which it &s;heds abroad at its withdraw|ing, and wherein the beames &s;eem to be temper'd and allayd, thereby to render them&s;elves &s;upportable, &s;weetly mollify|ing its lu&s;ter, if by that meanes it may favour the &s;ight of the earne&s;t beholder.</P>
<P>But having but a very &s;hort time to injoy the contentment I received every evening in ad|miring this faire &s;pectacle, and viewing tho&s;e precious tracks it leaveth behind in the heaven, at its farewell, together with that diver&s;ity of Colours, which are produced at the di&s;|&s;olution of its rayes; there was
<PB REF="36"> no way to make me returne to my lodging, but that night came on, and drawing a cur|tain over this glory, put a pe|riod to the magnificence of the &s;ight which detained me a|broad. And becau&s;e &s;o happy a &s;ea&s;on could not be long, I was willing to enjoy every in|&s;tant; and I had &s;o well mana|ged the &s;malle&s;t parts of its &s;tay, that I cho&s;e rather to take the coolene&s;&s;e of the Even, then to lo&s;e the re&s;t of the day. And as we double our embraces to per&s;ons whom wee love, when we are pre&s;ently to part; and as old men more earne&s;tly de&s;ire that life which they are now bidding adieu to: &s;o had I the mo&s;t violent pa&s;&s;ions for a Good which began to de&s;ert me, and which the neer ap|proach
<PB REF="37"> of the winter threatned every houre to ravi&s;h from me. When I &s;aw it begin to ap|proach, I was not &s;een any lon|ger to follow my former kinde of life, nor to do as I did here|tofore many pieces of the after|noone. I was &s;ociable but till noone, pre&s;ently after I went abroad all alone, and had no patience till I came to my deare river; along which as I walk|ed one day after my u&s;uall cu|&s;tome, (and it was, if I remem|ber, the very &s;ame day that w<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> received the newes of the &s;ur+render of <HI>Rochel</HI>) I perceive<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> on a &s;uddain beyond the river I know not what yellow and blue, which appeared among the poplars, and made th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> weeds to &s;hake. <HI>Virgils Aeneid</HI> which by chance I had in my
<PB REF="37"> hands, and where I was reading the Apparition of <HI>Tyber</HI> to <HI>Ae|neas,</HI> which happened much after this manner, had &s;o filled my &s;pirits with the follies of Poetry, that I began to imagine that the fanta&s;me which I di&s;|covered might be the God of our river: But I quickly cor|rected the extravagancy of my fancy, and &s;aw di&s;tinctly a &s;laxen hair'd man which held toward me a blue plu&s;h bonnet: Whereat knowing that hee &s;tood in need of my charity, &amp; the channell being not narrow enough in that place to throw him that almes I would give him, I beckoned to a Fi&s;her|man, who was &s;preading his nets &s;ome twenty paces from me, to go fetch him over in his boate. He was a Gentleman of
<PB REF="38"> <HI>Flanders</HI> who came from <HI>Spain,</HI> and though very poore and ill clad, did notwith&s;tanding give proofe he was well borne, and of good education, though at pre&s;ent he were in very bad equipage. He told me that comming from <HI>Loretto,</HI> he was taken by a <HI>Turki&s;h</HI> ve&s;&s;ell, and carried to <HI>Algiers</HI> with &s;ome o|ther Chri&s;tians; who, to &s;ave the charges which they &s;hould have made by land, hired a Barque at <HI>Ancona,</HI> which was to carry them to <HI>Mar&s;eilly.</HI> He told me a long &s;tory of his mis|fortunes; the bad entertaine|ment he received from diffe|rent Ma&s;ters, which had bought him one from another, and the in&s;upportable humour of the La&s;t, who, having neither rea|&s;on nor humanity, doubled all
<PB REF="38"> the imployments of his &s;ervice, and at la&s;t put him in &s;uch a condition, that being altoge|ther unprofitable, he was con|&s;trained to leave him, for a Pi&s;to|let, to a Religious man of <HI>Mer|cy.</HI> He did not forget to de|&s;cribe to me tho&s;e two terrible Pri&s;ons which are under the City of <HI>Algier,</HI> and which may very well be called the Sepul|chers of the living; for there they interr every night twelve thou&s;and Slaves, and let them out in the morning, to &s;end them to their ordinary Labour. And certainely he did &s;o plea&s;e him&s;elfe with this mat|ter, and was &s;o overwhelmed therewith &s;ometimes, that I perceived very well, that his pa&s;&s;ed paines were his pre&s;ent contentments; and that the
<PB REF="39"> good which we hope for doth not more flatter our imaginati|on, then the evill which wee have &s;uffered contenteth our memory. I gave him then to oblige him, the mo&s;t quiet and favorable hearing that he could de&s;ire from &s;o curious an au|ditor: I intere&s;&s;ed my &s;elfe in his di&s;graces by the frequent exclamations wherewith I ac|companied that which he &s;aid, and &s;uffered him to &s;ay the &s;ame thing over and over with|out interrupting him, that I might not &s;eem to deprive him of that liberty, which he onely came to recover.</P>
<P>Thus having long heard him with content, I as'kd him ma|ny que&s;tions for my particular &s;atisfaction, and perhaps wea|ried him to an&s;wer &s;o many in|terrogatories.
<PB REF="39"> I de&s;ir'd to know what pollicy the <HI>Moores</HI> u&s;e, what cu&s;tomes they ob&s;erve, and to what exerci&s;es they are addicted. Among&s;t other things he told mee, that every <HI>Friday</HI> they made publick prayers to God, to re&s;tore to them the Kingdome of <HI>Granada,</HI> and cur&s;'d the memory of the la&s;t King, who could not defend it again&s;t <HI>Ferdinand.</HI> He informed me of many &s;uch particulars, which Hi&s;tory never taught me, and though it were impo&s;|&s;ible to retain him longer then two dayes, whatever intreaty I made him, I received at my ea&s;e during that time all the profit he had drawn from a &s;ad expe|rience, and the multitude of his misfortunes.</P>
<P>But truly that which plea&s;ed
<PB REF="40"> me mo&s;t in his di&s;cour&s;e, and left me fully &s;atisfied for the chance of meeting with him, was that after I had ask'd him if the <HI>Moores</HI> had as much curi|o&s;ity as I, or if like other barba|rous people, they lived in a pro|found ignorance of forraigne affaires; he made me an&s;wer, that there was no other di&s;|cour&s;e at this day in <HI>Affrica,</HI> but of the victories of our <HI>King,</HI> and that <HI>Rochel</HI> had been the Cau&s;e, that yeare, of a thou&s;and wa|gers, and almo&s;t of as many quarrels; &s;o far, that among the Slaves, a <HI>Frenchman</HI> being in|cen&s;ed again&s;t a <HI>Spaniard,</HI> who maintain'd it would never be taken, and that the <HI>King</HI> could never compa&s;&s;e his end without the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of the <HI>King</HI> of <HI>Spaine,</HI> the <HI>Frenchman</HI> not able
<PB REF="40"> to indure that word, and ha|ving nothing to repul&s;e it, made his chaines &s;erve for weapons, wherewith he &s;trook his fellow &s;o violently, that he &s;tretch'd him &s;tarke dead at the feet of their Common Ma&s;ter.</P>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="text">
<PB REF="41">
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="1" REF="41">
<HEAD>CHAP. I.</HEAD>
<P>_CErtainely that action &s;eemed to me &s;o extra|ordinary, that if he that told me had not a&s;&s;ured me of the truth thereof by mo&s;t great and religious oathes, I mu&s;t needs prote&s;t there was too much gallantry in it to be true. But I had no rea&s;on to &s;u&s;pect the te&s;ti|monie he gave me, partly, for that it proceeded from the mouth of a Gentleman originally a <HI>Spaniard</HI> of <HI>Flanders,</HI> and con&s;equently a Subject to the &s;ame <HI>Prince</HI> with him that was &s;lain, as al&s;o for other &s;uf|ficient con&s;iderations. I was ravi&s;hed with content to &s;ee in the extreame
<PB N="2" REF="42"> old age of the world, and in the de|cay of all things, <HI>France</HI> &s;hould yet bring forth Children worthy the fir&s;t vigour of their Mother. One &s;o generous an example produced in me at the &s;ame time Love and Jealou&s;ie, I was extremely moved, and &s;aid within my &s;elf; Since poor Captives, who can hardly breath under the weight of their Irons, love a <HI>Prince</HI> &s;o dearly, who hath not delivered them from &s;lavery; and to &s;ay truly, ha|ving neither hands nor &s;trength, do kill the enemies of his Crown by their bare courage: Since the Slaves of <HI>Algier</HI> become the Souldiers of <HI>Lewis the Ju&s;t,</HI> and tho&s;e that par|take not at all in his pro&s;perity, &s;hare neverthele&s;&s;e in his glory; What pretence is there, that living in a Pro|vince, whereof he is more particu|larly the Freer then of the re&s;t of <HI>France;</HI> and the principall fruit of his travels belonging to my Coun|trey, that I &s;hould behold with an indifferent mind &s;o many good deeds
<PB N="3" REF="42"> which he hath done, and &s;ecretly in|joy, without &s;peaking a word, a lazie and &s;tupid felicitie? What &s;hew of rea&s;on is there, that living in the field of victory, and &s;eeing nothing round about me but people ran|&s;omed, and Enemies vanqui&s;hed, that the pre&s;ence of &s;o glorious an object cannot &s;tirre up my idle dul|ne&s;&s;e, and furni&s;h me with one gene|rous thought? What colour is there, that I am not awakened at this great noi&s;e, which ri&s;ing here, makes it &s;elf to be heard to the utmo&s;t parts of the earth, and that I receive no impre&s;&s;ion of a light &s;o neer and full of lu&s;ter; which &s;preading it &s;elfe already over the Sea, &s;hines forth even to the very Dens and Caves of the Barbarians.</P>
<P>We mu&s;t be more lively touched with the good fortune of the Com|mon-wealth, and take more know|ledge of our proper happine&s;&s;e; we mu&s;t produce &s;ome act of our joy, if there be now no more time to give
<PB N="4" REF="43"> proofes of our courage, and give te|&s;timonie that wee love the State, though we have not bin in a condi|tion to &s;erve it. We mu&s;t no longer re&s;t in the &s;lumber and &s;ilence of ad|miration; Neither ought I to be the onely mute among the acclamations of the people, nor the onely unpro|fitable Arti&s;an in the preparations for this triumph.</P>
<P>Yet now that I con&s;ider the&s;e things more calmely, and that I am return'd out of that exta&s;ie where|with I was tran&s;ported, I am afraid that the poverty of the place where I am, will not furni&s;h mee with any thing wherewith I may worthily e|nough take pains in &s;o noble and glo|rious an employment: We have no quarreys of Marble, nor mines of gold, whence I may take out tho&s;e ornaments which I de&s;ire.</P>
<P>The wealth of <HI>Paris</HI> is not found in our village; our Land &s;ufficeth for nece&s;&s;ity, but affords us no delicates. In vain al&s;o do I &s;eek for the conver|&s;ation
<PB N="5" REF="43"> of another, and look after the helps of conference, beholding no objects but tho&s;e that &s;peake not at all; and pa&s;&s;ing my life among dead things and inanimate. What can trees and rocks teach me? what a|greement is there between Husban|dry and the Politickes? whom can I con&s;ult where I find no body? Since the Court is &s;o farre di&s;tant, Newes growes old before it comes to our hands? Am not I one of the la&s;t to whom the renown is brought? or do I know any thing till it is publi&s;h|ed and in print. I have gained the knowledge of many things in the world no otherwayes. No body hath furni&s;hed me with Commenta|ries and in&s;tructions to &s;upply the want of that knowledge which I have not. I walke without a guide and without company. All the ad|vantages which another might have I am de&s;titute of, and I prote&s;t, I am very ill provided of nece&s;&s;ary abi|lities to undergoe the dignity of that
<PB N="6" REF="44"> de&s;igne I now take in hand. Yet I feele my &s;elf, as it were, compelled to venture abroad in this occa&s;ion. It is not po&s;&s;ible for me to re&s;i&s;t that in|ward motion which driveth me for|ward.</P>
<P>I cannot hinder my &s;elfe from &s;peaking of the <HI>King</HI> and of his ver|tue: to cry aloud to all Princes, that this is the example which they ought to follow; to aske all people and all ages of the world, if they have ever &s;een any &s;uch like thing. A <HI>Her|mite</HI> is about to &s;peak his advice of the mo&s;t magnificent and &s;tatelie&s;t thing in an active life. I will throw my &s;elfe with my &s;ingle common &s;en&s;e into the greate&s;t affaires of Chri&s;tendome: I will cro&s;&s;e the Se<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> in a wicker-boate. Wherefore I doubt not what extreame hazard I run, and how much I am in danger to be &s;hip-wrack'd in the very Ha|ven. My ra&s;hne&s;&s;e cannot prove &s;uc|ce&s;&s;efull but by a miracle; I can only make my &s;elfe remarkeable by my
<PB N="7" REF="44"> errours: It will ea&s;ily be &s;een by the mi&s;takes in my writings, that I am a &s;tranger to the world, and the inha|biter of a de&s;art.</P>
<P>Yet fora&s;much as herein I exerci&s;e no civill nor military charge; I give no arre&s;ts nor leade men to warre, and a private man may faile and his errours not be dangerous, I comfort my &s;elfe, that mine &s;hall no wayes injure my Countrey, and that my gro&s;&s;e&s;t ignorance &s;hall not co&s;t her the life of the mo&s;t unprofitable Ci|tizen. I utterly renounce whatever I have pretended to in the art of &s;peaking well, to acquit me of an action of pietie: my reputation is not &s;o deare to me as my duty; and I had rather you &s;hould blame my zeale then my roughne&s;&s;e, my vio|lence then my lazie &s;lackne&s;&s;e: I aime not at glory, I only &s;atisfie my con&s;cience. And if it be true, that no body is more &s;en&s;ible of the in|joyment of re&s;t, then he that can ta&s;te it by the rules of Philo&s;ophie,
<PB N="8" REF="45"> which teacheth one his dutie well enough, though it give nothing wherewith to be di&s;charged of it; I &s;hould commit a fault if making pro|fe&s;&s;ion of &s;o noble a &s;tudy, I did not ri&s;e from the effects to the Cau&s;e, and did not give in &s;ome proofe of ac|knowledgement toward the &s;econd founder of this State; By who&s;e be|nefit I live here in &s;afety upon the borders of <HI>Charante:</HI> I con&s;ider at my ea&s;e the diver&s;e beauties of na|ture, and po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e without trouble all the riches of the Countrey.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. II.</HEAD>
<P>THo&s;e formidable fortre&s;&s;es which hindered us from behol|ding the heavens; which were built with the bloud and teares of our Fa|thers, and who&s;e &s;hadow was &s;o tragicall to three neighbouring Pro|vinces, do now no more threaten our libertie. The <HI>A&s;ylum</HI> of wicked men is fallen to the ground, there remains
<PB N="9" REF="45"> nothing but ruines which are &s;hewed to pa&s;&s;engers: The Church hath its revenge for tho&s;e holy places which were beaten down, and for tho&s;e Images which were broken to pieces. There is not &s;o much as a hole or Cave for that furious bea&s;t to retire into, which brake in even to our ve|ry gates, and returned proud and fierce with the trophies of our &s;poiles. She is now expo&s;ed to the &s;ports and laughter of children, &s;he is become the wonder and a&s;toni&s;h|ment of the people. She hath onely her heart left to defend her &s;elfe with, her teeth and nayles are broken off. It was certainly no &s;mall enter|pri&s;e, and which needed no le&s;&s;e courage then that of the <HI>King:</HI> And when I con&s;ider that our own Bro|thers were our naturall Enemies, and that there was more difference be|tween two <HI>Frenchmen,</HI> then between a <HI>Frenchman</HI> and a <HI>Mo&s;covite;</HI> and that now this brave <HI>Prince</HI> hath re|conciled us by his victorie, and we
<PB N="10" REF="46"> are all united in his &s;ervice, I &s;ee <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Conque&s;t which can offer it &s;elfe <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> his ambition, able to countervai<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> this he hath already obtained.</P>
<P>The advantages which ari&s;e hence have very much lu&s;tre to dazzle th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> eyes of the vulgar, and they hav<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> as much &s;olidity to content th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> judgements of the wi&s;e. The glor<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> which accrues to him carryeth a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> much true weight as glitterin<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> pompe; it is the perfect Cure of th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Kingdome, and no vain ornamen<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> to the Hi&s;torie of our <HI>King.</HI></P>
<P>And indeed, be&s;ides that he hat<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> taken more Townes then are in the Kingdome of <HI>Naples,</HI> and <HI>Sicilie</HI> that he hath &s;o often weakene<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the <HI>Stranger,</HI> and &s;o often made him return with di&s;honour, that he hath alwayes made him receive lo&s;&s;es o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> affronts: Be&s;ides that he hath put a yoake upon the proude&s;t part of Na|ture; that he hath planted artificiall rocks in the Sea to &s;hip-wracke the Fleets of his Enemies; and that the
<PB N="11" REF="46"> &s;trength of his re&s;olution, hath &s;ur|mounted the violence of the Ele|ments and of the Starres: We may further adde this truth, that he hath made all the world wi&s;e, and hath got other Subjects, and another peo|ple; and that the conditions to which he hath reduced the factious, are &s;uch, that the wor&s;t they can do, is to wi&s;h ill, and to de&s;ire that the times may change.</P>
<P>The Peace which he hath procured us, is certainly a more &s;ub&s;tantiall and durable good then all tho&s;e we have &s;een. It is neither the nece&s;&s;itie of affaires, nor the weari&s;omne&s;&s;e of the warre, nor the con&s;ideration of his divers events which hath obliged him to be&s;tow it upon us; It hath flowed freely from his owne good di&s;po&s;ition, after an intire and full victorie; after the la&s;t roote of evill was cut, and that things were put out of the power of Fortune. It is built upon the de&s;truction of whate|ver could trouble it, and our re&s;t is
<PB N="12" REF="47"> &s;o firmely and &s;ecurely e&s;tabli&s;hed that if the Admirall of &mdash; and the Mar&s;hall of &mdash; &s;hould return into the world, with all their &s;ubtleties, and cunning plots, they would not be able to give us one fal&s;e alarme. We need not feare then that tho&s;e great Spirits, who have kept the age in per|petuall unquietne&s;&s;e, who have rai&s;ed &s;tormes in the &s;erenity of the mo&s;t halcyon dayes, and who now would remain idle knowing not how to doe us hurt, have left Schollers more cunning then them&s;elves, and more ingenuous, for the ruine of their Countrey.</P>
<P>We need not feare (as hereto|fore) that the di&s;contents of &s;ome particular men &s;hould beget publick mi&s;eries, nor that the fir&s;t motion of their anger &s;hould be followed with the taking of Townes, and the de&s;olation of the Countrey. All their ill humours will &s;pend them|&s;elves for the future in their clo&s;et, and again&s;t their dome&s;tick &s;ervants:
<PB N="13" REF="47"> They will grow angry at le&s;&s;e char|ges then they did, when there were not offices and governments enough to appea&s;e them. The State will be no more trouble&s;ome to be governed, then a well ordered hou&s;e: All will obey from the children to the hire|lings, and that multitude of <HI>Kings</HI> who have &s;o long &s;hared <HI>France,</HI> will at la&s;t be brought to the common right, and render to one that Sove|raignty which was divided among many.</P>
<P>Who is there thinke you, that would adde his own misfortunes to tho&s;e of another, and follow the example of tho&s;e men who have lo&s;t them&s;elves, or who appear yet wet, and come forth dropping from the wrack? who can &s;o much as dreame of new &s;tirres and tumults if he but call to mind what he hath &s;een, which he may hope to do if he have not al|together lo&s;t his memory? what ra&s;hne&s;&s;e &s;hall he be guiltie of who &s;hall place him&s;elf before that impe|tuous
<PB N="14" REF="48"> pro&s;perity which hath ma&s;ter the <HI>Bearne, Guienne, Languedoc</HI> a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> <HI>Dauphine?</HI> or where &s;hall a poo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Rebell hide him&s;elf, when neithe<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> on the one &s;ide, the labour of <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> yeares, and the indu&s;try of all t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Mathematicians of <HI>Europe;</HI> nor, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the other &s;ide, the Sea and <HI>Engla<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> were able to protect <HI>Rochel</HI> in i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> di&s;obedience? There is nothing <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> &s;trong by nature, nor of &s;uch perfe+ction by the art of men, that can re+&s;i&s;t the pre&s;ence of the <HI>King.</HI> There is no greatne&s;&s;e but humbleth it &s;elf before his: There is not any cun|ningne&s;&s;e of contrivance, whic<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> proves not weake again&s;t his pru|dence.</P>
<P>Tho&s;e places which have indu|red the fury of the Cannon the&s;e 1<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> yeares, will &s;urrender them&s;elves a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the fir&s;t view of his &s;ummons: Two lines &s;igned with his hand, and car|ried by a Lackey, will make them o|bey, who the other day would have required Treaties of peace, and Ar|ticles
<PB N="15" REF="48"> of Conference to enter with ceremony into their duty. Let him but command any one to come and render him account of his actions, he will not deliberate whether he ought to go or no, though he may very well feare the &s;ucce&s;&s;e of his journey; he will bring his head, and not &s;end a Declaration. Let him when ever he plea&s;eth relea&s;e Pri&s;oners; they are not le&s;&s;e in his power for being at li|bertie, he will not di&s;&s;ei&s;e him&s;elf of their per&s;ons, he will onely enlarge the circuite of their pri&s;on; He will only hold them by a longer chaine then formerly he did, and permitting them to live with the re&s;t of his Sub|jects, he will only increa&s;e the num|ber of their keepers; &s;o that tortures and puni&s;hments will bee no more needfull in his Kingdome; Men will not make u&s;e any more of tho&s;e har&s;h remedies which the weakne&s;&s;e and impotency of &s;ome have put in execution, and which cannot pre&s;erve the whole without the lo&s;&s;e of &s;ome
<PB N="16" REF="49"> one part. The State will maintaine it &s;elf by the reputation of the <HI>Prince,</HI> and the <HI>Prince</HI> will be reverenced by his &s;ole autho|ritie.</P>
<P>I &s;peak of that which remains for him to do in <HI>Languedoc,</HI> as of a thing already done; His fortune is too well known to us to doubt of the &s;ucce&s;&s;e of an action, which, as things now &s;tand would be ea&s;ie for an unfortunate man to compa&s;&s;e; things would throng to be &s;urrendred to him.</P>
<P>Wi&s;e men will not &s;earch for glo|ry in a fal&s;e reputation of con&s;tancy: They will take coun&s;ell of their pre&s;ent condition, without remem|bring them&s;elves to no purpo&s;e o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> their pa&s;t pro&s;peritie. They will no<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> &s;tay till nece&s;&s;ity force them to beg peace in a white &s;heet, and wil<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> chu&s;e rather to tru&s;t a word that cannot faile, then walls which may be taken. Let the wor&s;t come, hee will fight again&s;t people, whom he
<PB N="17" REF="49"> hath bin u&s;ed to conquer, and being no longer upheld but with &s;ome &s;mall de&s;paire which &s;upports them, they will pre&s;ently &s;inke under his forces, and lye pro&s;trate before his courage and good fortune. There is no need that our Heretickes make any more account of Heads of Par|ties, of Townes, nor of A&s;&s;emblies, they will have nothing left them but their here&s;ie, which being &s;tript na|ked, and de&s;poil'd of the&s;e humane advantages which covered its natu|rall deformity will every day loo&s;e its old Patriots, and get no new ones.</P>
<P>Some may perhaps hold up &s;till for commodity; and becau&s;e it trou|bleth lazie people to remove from one place to another; yet no body will &s;tand &s;till to be knock'd in the head, and the mo&s;t ob&s;tinate will not torment them&s;elves to di&s;pute an unfortunate cau&s;e, &s;o often and &s;o &s;olemnly lo&s;t; for&s;aken of God and men, <HI>M.</HI> the Mare&s;chall of&mdash;
<PB N="18" REF="50"> and <HI>M.</HI> the Mare&s;chall of &mdash; the mo&s;t advi&s;ed and con&s;iderable of that Sect, are inhabitants of <HI>Paris,</HI> and the King is not le&s;&s;e a&s;&s;ured of them then of the <HI>Provo&s;t</HI> of the Merchants. One of them is glutted with civill warre; the other would never yet ta&s;t it, and both of them know well enough what &s;lavery it is to command Rebels, among&s;t whom, be&s;ides that the be&s;t actions have need to be aboli&s;hed, and that their victories are parricides, and that there is no hope to receive an honou|rable death; they can moreover neither bring nor find confidence, becau&s;e it is an act of merit to de|ceive them, and in de&s;erting the<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters"> party men do their duty.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="3" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. III.</HEAD>
<P>FOr <HI>M de</HI> &mdash; I doe not be|lieve that hee is of an incurable di&s;po&s;ition, and that he followes e|vill by election: The Tempe&s;t hath
<PB N="19" REF="50"> thrown him into the Revolt, and he knowes very well, that the wor&s;t place about the King is better then the General&s;hip of his Army. Hee doth well to be active and laborious, his enterpri&s;es are like the &s;tartings of a man in a dreame, he takes pains and troubleth him&s;elf to no purpo&s;e. We cannot do things in de&s;pite of heaven; he &s;eeth a &s;uperiour power, which overturnes from on high all his de&s;ignes, and all humane prudence brought down by the force of de&s;ti|nie.</P>
<P>Furthermore in what place &s;oever he is, he is &s;lave to a world of <HI>Ma|&s;ters,</HI> and feares as much his owne &s;ide as his Enemies; his authoritie which hath no foundation but the pa&s;&s;ion of the Common people, is built upon the mudde; it depends upon the fancy of an <HI>Arti&s;an</HI> which believes he hath right to demand rea&s;on of whatever he doth, or lea|veth undone, and to call him tray|tour as often as he &s;hall be unfortu|nate.
<PB N="20" REF="51"> The firme&s;t &s;ervant that he hath is not made triall of under a thou&s;and crownes pen&s;ion: Hee hath not one man under his com|mand which yields him true obedi|ence, and to whom he mu&s;t not pro|mi&s;e one thing to obtain another: They all generally thinke to be e|quall to him by the &s;ociety of the &s;ame fault, and that every one hath an equall &s;hare in that power which belongeth lawfully to no body: So that to pre&s;erve this vain Image of a fancyed command, hee mu&s;t go|verne them with di&s;hone&s;t arts, and at fir&s;t mu&s;t allow of licence even again&s;t his own per&s;on.</P>
<P>He mu&s;t be the Flatterer and corrupter of his own Army, and mu&s;t every day invent newes to en|tertain their hopes; He mu&s;t com|po&s;e Prophe&s;ies to amu&s;e the credu|lous, and a&s;&s;ure them that the <HI>Ca&s;i|mirs</HI> &s;hall pa&s;&s;e the <HI>Loyre,</HI> and over|runne <HI>France</HI> once more with their <HI>Lan&s;quenets</HI> and <HI>Rei&s;ters.</HI> And
<PB N="21" REF="51"> after this he mu&s;t counterfeit let|ters from <HI>Bethlem Gabor,</HI> &s;ignifying that the <HI>Turke</HI> is making ha&s;t to|wards them, becau&s;e <HI>England</HI> and <HI>Germany</HI> have failed; and in the ve|ry apprehen&s;ion of his approaching ruine, and amid&s;t all the horrors of de&s;peration, hee mu&s;t have all the countenances and appearances of a contented man. In the meane time I am confident for the&s;e two yeares he hath received no other joyes but tho&s;e which mi&s;erable men feele be|tweene their &s;entence and execution. The bad dayes that he &s;pends are not followed with better nights; and if he would take any re&s;t, in the meane time his imagination which wake|neth, repre&s;ents to him a mutiny in the Campe, or a &s;edition in the Ci|ty, which &s;ei&s;eth him to make their peace more advantageous, or one of his own who holds a ponyard at his bre&s;t, or the angry incen&s;ed counte|nance of his <HI>Ma&s;ter,</HI> who reproach|eth him with his Felony, and at la&s;t
<PB N="22" REF="52"> abandons him to the ordinary cour&s;e of Ju&s;tice. Certainly if one could &s;ee the torments and Agitations of his poore &s;oule, I doubt not but it would move him to compa&s;&s;ion.</P>
<P>Wee have not one Voluntiere in all our Troopes who would change conditions with this unfortunate Generall; and who under&s;tands not in this &s;en&s;e the words which <HI>Homer</HI> &s;peakes to his <HI>Achilles,</HI> That tho&s;e who obey in this world are better then tho&s;e that command in hell.</P>
<P>It is no hard matter then to be|lieve, if he were to beginne againe but he would preferre a voluntary bani&s;hment before the condition of being head of a party, and that now looking at the future, which pre&s;ents nothing but what is &s;ad and Tragi|call, he already envieth the pri&s;o|ners of <HI>Bois de Vincennes</HI> which ex|pect at lea&s;t in re&s;t the mercy of the King. He looketh on all &s;ides how he may get out of this confu&s;ion of various misfortunes, and &s;eeketh for
<PB N="23" REF="52"> a pa&s;&s;age to returne to his duty: But there are no degrees in a pre|cipice; We never &s;ee them go up againe who have throwne them|&s;elves downe thence, and there is no le&s;&s;e danger for a man to be di&s;char|ged of Tyranny, then there was to beginne it. <HI>Phalaris</HI> was ready to de&s;ert it, but he demanded a God for Caution, who &s;hould bee re|&s;pon&s;able for his life, if he di&s;poiled him&s;elfe of his authority. And it hath ever been a common opinion that tho&s;e that have taken up armes again&s;t their Country or their Prince, are in &s;ome &s;ort reduced to a nece&s;&s;ity to do ill, by rea&s;on of the little &s;ecurity they can find in doing well: They dare not become inno|cent for feare of putting them&s;elves to the mercy of the Lawes which they have offended, and do continue their faults, becau&s;e they conceive no body is &s;atisfied with their repen|tance. Yet the goodne&s;&s;e of the King may a&s;&s;ure the &s;pirits whom
<PB N="24" REF="53"> the&s;e <HI>Maximes</HI> would have af|frighted; It is not &s;ubject to the rules of vulgar pollicy, and is in a condition to &s;weeten, and change them at his plea&s;ure.</P>
<P>The rigour and courte&s;ie which is u&s;ed in the uncertainty of events, and in the violence of doing ill, are the ef|fects rather of nece&s;&s;ity then of vertue. There are, to &s;peake truely, hone&s;t and &s;pecious feares which give te&s;timony that we would not have powerfull enemies, when wee do the wor&s;t we can to ours; and when we deale gently with them, that we expect al&s;o like entertain|ment: But the continuall pro&s;peri|ty of the King, leaves no place for &s;uch thoughts, it taketh away all &s;u&s;picion of hypocri&s;ie from his ver|tue, and leaveth it to his choice to u&s;e ju&s;tice or mercy as &s;eemeth him be&s;t. He onely can recover <HI>M. de</HI>&mdash; from the extremity he is fallen into, and affoord him a meanes, how hee may purcha&s;e a glorious death in
<PB N="25" REF="53"> &s;ome forraine occa&s;ion, which look|eth at his &s;ervice, or to pa&s;&s;e a quiet old age in the fea&s;ts and tryumphs of the Court. His hands are not &s;hortned &s;ince his la&s;t deeds of Cle|mencie. And if they extend them|&s;elves towards one that &s;inneth with remor&s;e; who hath not forgotten his name nor his birth, and who certainly de&s;erves to be pre&s;erv'd; Men will prai&s;e him every where, for that after he hath &s;uppre&s;'d the pride of the Rebels, he doth not quarrell with the misfortune of the afflicted.</P>
<P>I dare not &s;ay that the Authors of the revolt who have denied their <HI>Prince,</HI> and would &s;ell their Coun|trey to a &s;tranger, ought to receive &s;o favourable an entertainment, or that there &s;hould faile to be &s;ome example to appea&s;e the &s;oules of the dead, and to give &s;atisfaction to the publike.</P>
<P>The <HI>King</HI> neverthele&s;&s;e can doe herein that which no body can aske
<PB N="26" REF="54"> him a rea&s;on of; and the &s;weetne&s;&s;e of his di&s;po&s;ition hath oftentimes corrected the &s;everity of the office he di&s;chargeth: But when he would be liberall of his injuries, in pardon|ing tho&s;e who have &s;o &s;en&s;ibly offen|ded him, what &s;hould they do with that Grace, which they cannot po&s;|&s;ibly injoy, in the mid&s;t of a provo|ked Nation? What u&s;e could they make of liberty if it were more dan|gerous to them then a pri&s;on? Or what good were it to e&s;cape the Ju&s;tice of the <HI>Parliament</HI> to be ex|po&s;ed to the vengeance of the peo|ple? They are &s;o odious in the whole Kingdome, that they can onely goe abroad in the night. The mo&s;t tendere&s;t natures are not touched with their di&s;graces, and though it be the nature of misfor|tune to move compa&s;&s;ion in tho&s;e that behold it, they are hated as if they were not at all mi&s;erable.</P>
<P>It comes into mens minds that they have alwaies kindled tho&s;e
<PB N="27" REF="54"> combu&s;tions which we have &s;een; that they have been the fir&s;t per|jur'd, and the fir&s;t breakers of the publike faith, that they ray&s;'d com|motions when trouble it &s;elfe was at re&s;t, and have advanced the in&s;ur|rection of their party by the impa|tiency of their own Rebellion; It will be remembred, how in a full peace they they were the Pirats of our Seas, and the violators of the freedome of our Havens; That they oppo&s;'d them&s;elves to the greatne&s;&s;e of <HI>France;</HI> That they en|vied the glory of the <HI>King,</HI> and a|verted his inclination from a noble enterpri&s;e out of this Kingdome, by dome&s;ticke hinderances which they rai&s;'d within. We know that they have divided Kings, and broken the Alliances of the Crown; That their &s;editious &s;peeches have &s;pread the fire, and blown it on all &s;ides; That they endeavoured to &s;tirre up all <HI>Europe</HI> again&s;t their Country; That they have been at the end of
<PB N="28" REF="55"> the world to &s;eek enemies for us; and have made &s;o &s;mall account of the name of <HI>France,</HI> that they were not a&s;hamed to waite the ri&s;ing of a <HI>Favorite</HI> of <HI>England,</HI> and to bow the knee before a forraine power. The Rebels abroad do look upon them as the evill Angels which tempted them, and in&s;pired them with the fir&s;t fury of Arms, which have &s;ucceeded &s;o unluckily.</P>
<P>It is very true that they pre&s;&s;ed the &s;uccours which came to them, and have made u&s;e of our Neighbours with affection and care; But they have not been &s;o good Conductors of their Troops, as good Soliciters of their affaires; and af|ter they had prepared the War and engaged Souldiers, they have for the mo&s;t part alwaies contented them|&s;elves to give bold coun&s;ells, and to deliberate couragiou&s;ly; Thus they have thru&s;t tho&s;e upon dangers whom they &s;hould have led thither; who reproach them continually
<PB N="29" REF="55"> with their wounds and their lo&s;&s;es, and believe they commit a crime to live after the ruine of their Party.</P>
<P>They are in no better e&s;teeme among &s;trangers, and if it were po&s;|&s;ible to gather the voices of all peo|ple together, they would be con|demned by the Common Jury of mankind, and driven from all the Sanctuaries of the earth.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="4" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. IV.</HEAD>
<P>NOw without doubt, as I con|ceive, the extreame hatred which is born them comes from the extreame love men have to the <HI>King.</HI> The injuries which are done to a ju&s;t <HI>Prince</HI> excite univer&s;all re&s;entments, and appertaine to the whole Com|mon-wealth. Every man is a Soul|dier again&s;t the Enemies of mo&s;t excellent vertue; there is none &s;o unintere&s;&s;ed whom it doth not in|gage into her party; none &s;o cold, in whom &s;he doth not move pa&s;&s;ion;
<PB N="30" REF="56"> nor &s;o contrary that &s;he changeth not: In what place &s;oever &s;he &s;hew|eth her &s;elfe, &s;he gaines e&s;teeme, which is the foundation of autority; afterward &s;he produceth more plea|&s;ant and tender longings, and never leaveth, tho&s;e that &s;he combates and pur&s;ues the liberty not to love her. Wee &s;ee the inhabitants of &s;acked Cities, reverencing the vertue of their de&s;troyers; who ble&s;&s;e the thunder that &s;mote them, and acknowledge that the warre which was made a|gain&s;t them, was neither any head|long motion of anger, nor any effect of an evill will towards them; but a nece&s;&s;ary conclu&s;ion of all the prin|ciples of wi&s;edome, and the only re|medy which could put them in a bet|ter condition: They confe&s;&s;e they injoy in the lo&s;&s;e of <HI>Rochel</HI> that &s;ecu|rity which they could not find in her prodigious fortifications, and com|plain no more of their fall &s;ince they lye in the bo&s;ome of their Father. They make it not &s;trange to prote&s;t
<PB N="31" REF="56"> that they are obliged to the victory of the <HI>King</HI> for their peace and tran|quility, who hath given them lei&s;ure to attend their particular imploy|ments, in di&s;charging them of tho&s;e of their party: And &s;ince neither their life, their liberty, nor their for|tune was touched, in ridding them of tho&s;e places which did not belong to them, they are freed from nothing but cares, unquietne&s;&s;es and trou|bles.</P>
<P>As the mo&s;t impetuous and colde&s;t winds grow milde and gentle &s;ome|times pa&s;&s;ing thorow a temperate region: &s;o the mo&s;t &s;evere and har&s;h|e&s;t actions retain &s;omething of the quality of the per&s;on that undertakes them, and loo&s;e &s;ome part of their &s;harpne&s;&s;e and au&s;terity in the mana|ging of &s;o prudent and well advi&s;ed a <HI>Prince;</HI> The <HI>King</HI> hath handled this matter with &s;o much di&s;cretion, that in doing ju&s;tice he received pray&s;es from the mouths of the guil|ty; and hath carryed his re&s;entment
<PB N="32" REF="57"> to a full &s;atisfaction of the offence which he had received, without an<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> bitterne&s;&s;e in his proceeding, or mo+tion in his mind. He acted no mo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> then the Lawes, which ordain tor|tures and puni&s;hments without being at all in anger, and are never pa&s;&s;io|nate, though they may be har&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> and inflexible.</P>
<P>All the world admired the &s;ubtle|ty of that hand which at the &s;ame time &s;aved the body and &s;lew the Serpent twi&s;ted about it; who hath innocently imployed the &s;word, and the fire, rigour and vengeance; wh<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> hath exerci&s;ed &s;o charitable an ho&s;ti|lity, that the vanqui&s;hed do at thi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> day give thanks to the victor. He<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> enjoyeth therefore by good right th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> favour of the Univer&s;e, and the goo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> will of both &s;ides: In &s;o ju&s;t an af|fection the <HI>Hugenote</HI> is a rivall with the <HI>Catholique;</HI> all <HI>France</HI> is equally in love with her <HI>King:</HI> And thoug<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> in parting &s;o far from her he hath left her peace and other precious in|gagements;
<PB N="33" REF="57"> Though he acquires no glory but only for her, and every day &s;ends home Trophies of honour, yet &s;he cannot comfort her &s;elf with his ab&s;ence, who hath placed her in &s;o high a degree of reputation in &s;e|perating her from him. She envies the good fortune of his Enemies, who at lea&s;t behold that face which makes them tremble, and enjoy that light which dazzleth them.</P>
<P>Our eyes which are never &s;atis|fyed with the &s;ame objects, but would alwayes have change of beau|ties, and which are &s;ometimes trou|bled at the day, and light it &s;elfe, are never weary in looking upon our <HI>Prince.</HI> When he hath pa&s;&s;ed one &s;treet, the people runne to another to have a &s;econd &s;ight of him; and yet it is not the externall forme which we &s;o earne&s;tly follow after, though Philo&s;ophers e&s;teeme it the third part of the &s;upreame good. Our affection is more &s;pirituall, and more remote from &s;en&s;e; we are at|tracted
<PB N="34" REF="58"> by a farre nobler force: I have already &s;aid that he hath gained us by his merit: By this he raigne in the hearts of his Subjects, and con|&s;equently po&s;&s;e&s;&s;eth the place of the true&s;t affections, that where mee be&s;tow their wives and children, and other things which are deare unto them; The place which hath re&s;i&s;ted the power of Conquerours, which hath held out again&s;t <HI>Cae&s;ar,</HI> which is &s;hut to tho&s;e to whom the gates of Ca&s;tles &s;tand open, which retain|eth its liberty when Tyranny over|whelmes the whole earth.</P>
<P>Certainly if people have &s;ome times had violent pa&s;&s;ions for tho&s;e <HI>Princes</HI> whom they could never know, and who had done them nei|ther good nor hurt: If <HI>Rome</HI> idoli|zed young <HI>Marcellus</HI> who yet &s;hew|ed forth only &s;ome &s;ignes and pre&s;a|ges of a future greatne&s;&s;e, and which was extingui&s;hed a&s;&s;oon as it began to &s;hine.</P>
<P>If for this end he were the &s;hort
<PB N="35" REF="58"> and unhappy loves of the people of <HI>Rome,</HI> who bewail'd his death mo&s;t bitterly, and was extreamly afflicted for loo&s;ing only that which they hoped to injoy, that is to &s;ay, for loo&s;ing what they never had; it would be a &s;hame if benefits already received &s;hould find le&s;&s;e acknow|ledgement then &s;uch as are in a po&s;&s;i|bility of being received; That wee &s;hould make le&s;&s;e reckoning of a true and reall po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion, then others have of an imaginary and de&s;ired one. That <HI>Rome</HI> admired the buds and blo&s;&s;omes of an inclination to good, and <HI>France</HI> not be ravi&s;hed to ga|ther the fruit of a ripe and con&s;um|mated vertue.</P>
<P>It would be a great inju&s;tice if a <HI>Prince</HI> who hath conquered and travelled &s;o much for us, have not bin able to make him&s;elf acceptable by his pains and victories; if Crowns and acclamations &s;hould be wanting to him after the &s;afety of the State, and quiet of the Church which
<PB N="36" REF="59"> he hath procured, and if per|fect obligations &s;hould produce but ordinary and vulgar re&s;ent|ments.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="5" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. V.</HEAD>
<P>I Suppo&s;e no body will accu&s;e me for playing the Oratour, or being willing to aggravate &s;mall things. I offend rather in defect then exce&s;&s;e, and am farther from extreams which they la&s;h into who abu&s;e their wit, then from that lowne&s;&s;e which they fall into who have none at all. My de&s;igne is neither to gain beliefe to a fal&s;hood, nor to bring blandi&s;h|ments to a truth: We live not un|der tho&s;e unfortunate Raigns where to &s;peak well of their <HI>Ma&s;ter</HI> it is nece&s;&s;ary to &s;peak improperly; and to call every thing by another name.</P>
<P>In tho&s;e times when a <HI>Prince</HI> exerci&s;ed great cruelties, they &s;aid he made great examples; he received
<PB N="37" REF="59"> thanks for all actions for which he de&s;erved blame: When he paid Tri|bute to his Enemies they would per|&s;wade him that he gave pen&s;ions to his neighbours, and changed an effect of bondage into a marke of &s;uperio|rity. They prai&s;ed his valour for ha|ving once put his hor&s;e into a rage, or &s;eeming to &s;igne with regret a treaty of peace.</P>
<P>There was no flight &s;o &s;hamefull but had the reputation of an honou|rable retreat: They cal'd him Lyon whom they dur&s;t not call Wolfe, and generally turned all words from their true and ancient &s;ignification, that &s;o they might di&s;gui&s;e all things. An Emperour hath triumphed over the Ocean for having led an Army from <HI>Rome</HI> to <HI>Calais,</HI> and for being content, having looked upon the Sea, to make his Souldiers gather Cockles upon the &s;hore.</P>
<P>There have bin who have tyed to their Charrets of gold white men whom they had black'd over, with|out
<PB N="38" REF="60"> taking pains to go and conque<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> <HI>Ethiopia:</HI> others have cloathed <HI>R<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">+mans</HI> in the habite of <HI>Per&s;ians</HI> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> make a &s;hew of Pri&s;oners from tho<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Provinces which they never van|qui&s;hed: and all &s;orts have not wan|ted Oratours who have conjur'd them in the name of the Publick, not to hazard their Per&s;ons any more is &s;o dangerous occa&s;ions, and to u&s;e their courage for the future, with more &s;taidne&s;&s;e and moderation Flattery hath given <HI>Maje&s;tie</HI> t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> tho&s;e Soveraigns that would hav<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> had much adoe to find their State i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the Map: It ble&s;&s;eth the unju&s;t do|minions, and makes vowes for th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> pro&s;perity of the wicked: It build|eth Temples to tho&s;e who have no<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> de&s;erved Sepulchers; and they flat|ter their memory when they can n<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> longer flatter their Per&s;ons. On<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> &s;wears that he &s;aw <HI>Romulus</HI> a&s;cen<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> into heaven armed at all points, an<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> that he commanded him to go an<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> give the <HI>Senate</HI> notice thereof.</P>
<PB N="39" REF="60">
<P><HI>Claudius the weake,</HI> is made a God, as well as <HI>Augu&s;tus the wi&s;e;</HI> one and the &s;ame authoritie hallow|eth their a&s;hes and de&s;igns them Ce|le&s;tiall honours: <HI>Prie&s;ts</HI> are ordain|ed, Incen&s;e burnt, Sacrifices offered to the &s;oule of a dull &s;tupid <HI>Emperour;</HI> to him, who in the judgement of his own mother, was but the abortive beginning of a man.</P>
<P>There is not at this day any <HI>Prince</HI> &s;o mean, in whom the Prophe&s;ie of the ruine of the <HI>Turke</HI> mu&s;t not be fulfilled, if we mu&s;t believe &s;ome paultry book which hath bin made in favour thereof. There have ever bin in Courts Idols and Idolaters; There hath bin lazine&s;&s;e where ever there hath bin Tyranny: Authoritie, though never &s;o unju&s;t and odious, hath at all times bin adored; But ob&s;erve al&s;o it hath bin by Per&s;ons who were fearfull, or had need of it; who were either Subjects, or Dependants; For el&s;e the&s;e forced
<PB N="40" REF="61"> honours have la&s;ted no longer then their &s;lavery, and have bin payed only there, where it was dangerous to withhold them.</P>
<P>The fir&s;t beame of <HI>Liberty</HI> hath laid the foundation of all <HI>Statua<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> which have bin erected to wicked <HI>Princes.</HI> That ambitious man who had filled the Capitall City of <HI>Greece</HI> with his own, outlived all tho&s;e faire Monuments of his vanity, and had the grief, before he dyed, to &s;ee them made uten&s;iles for a Kit|chin. In many places, at the &s;ame time when they cry, <HI>God &s;ave the King,</HI> they wi&s;h him dead. Often|times they mock that privatly, which they admired in publick, and &s;tran|gers have given the lye to tho&s;e Hi|&s;tories which Dome&s;ticks have publi&s;hed.</P>
<P>Being to &s;peak of the <HI>King,</HI> we &s;hall not runne this fortune; the <HI>E&s;curiall</HI> values him as much as the <HI>Lovire.</HI> His reputation obtaines re|verence afarre off, as well as neere:
<PB N="41" REF="61"> He is prai&s;ed even in the Clo&s;et of his Enemies; and this voice is heard loud enough among our neighbours: <HI>Who can re&s;i&s;t us if we have &s;o brave a Ma&s;ter?</HI> So that I &s;peak nothing that's new to any, nothing but what is confirmed upon common reputation, which the <HI>Germans</HI> and the <HI>Spa|niards</HI> will &s;ay, as well as I. It is no <HI>Elegie</HI> nor <HI>Panogyrick</HI> which I write; It is a te&s;timony which I pay this Age and Po&s;teritie. It is a Confe&s;&s;ion which the right of Na|tions, and Univer&s;all Ju&s;tice will ex|tort from the mouths of all men: Even tho&s;e men who are &s;eparated from us the breadth of the Sea, who behold another day and other &s;tars, are not ignorant of this truth, and are a&s;toni&s;hed, that there is in <HI>Europe</HI> &s;omething more excellent and more perfect then the power that they o|bey.</P>
<P>I am not troubled to inlarge the &s;ubject of my di&s;cour&s;e; it is &s;o dif|fus'd and va&s;t, that I know not
<PB N="42" REF="62"> where to be&s;tow that which re|mains: I leave much more then <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> take, and find fewer words the<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> things.</P>
<P>This encounter at once di&s;cover the barrenne&s;&s;e of my wit, the po|verty of my language, the weakne&s;&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> of my Rhetoricke; It is a Scienc<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> which hath deceived me, and from whence I expected greater helps. Its livelie&s;t Colours are too dull to repre|&s;ent &s;o glorious and bright a life as that of the <HI>Kings:</HI> Its &s;tronge&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Figures can but &s;lowly follow, and at a di&s;tance, the progre&s;&s;e of &s;o active a courage; All termes are inferiou<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> to his actions, and therefore let <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> acknowledge the advantage whic<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> our matter hath, as well over o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> under&s;tanding, as our art. They be|&s;tow blandi&s;hments upon others, b<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> we mu&s;t take away &s;ome from hence and endeavour not to &s;poile tha<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> which cannot po&s;&s;ibly be adorned.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="6" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="43" REF="62">
<HEAD>CHAP. VI.</HEAD>
<P>I Will not prevent the judgement of the Church, nor an&s;wer for a vertue, which God hath not yet re|warded with the felicities of another life. I only &s;ay, there is no body in the world that knoweth that the <HI>King</HI> &s;ins, and the bolde&s;t and mo&s;t unju&s;t reproach, which can be fa&s;te|ned upon holy things, can find no|thing to object again&s;t his actions, with any colour.</P>
<P>Are there any children that com|plain that the <HI>Prince</HI> is heire to their fathers? Are there any Fathers who beg for tho&s;e children which the <HI>Prince</HI> hath ravi&s;hed from them, and who weep over them before they are dead? Where is that beauty which he permits not to be cha&s;t? where are the Mini&s;ters of his cruelty and of his plea&s;ure? In what place hath he &s;hed one drop of innocent blood? where are the cryes and groans heard
<PB N="44" REF="63"> of tho&s;e families which he hath mad<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> de&s;olate? Shew me at la&s;t but ot<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> mark by which Po&s;terity may kno<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> that he was young. When you<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> and power meet together, they ar<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> capable of producing &s;trange effects even to &s;et the whole world in <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> combu&s;tion: It is a Conjunctio<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> much like that in the heavens, whe<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> two &s;tars equally malignant meet <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> and if the violence which ordinarily accompanieth this age, is not <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="3 letters">|portable in a private condition, though the fear of the Lawes re&s;tra<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> it, and though it be bound in wit<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> a thou&s;and chaines; I leave you t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> think what it may do being arme<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> with the forces of a great King|dome, having Magi&s;trates and Ju&s;tice at its feet, and finding no hinderance for its de&s;ires, nor limits to its power.</P>
<P>Behold yet a man, who in the flower of his age, and in a &s;overaigne fortune, allowes his pa&s;&s;ions no more liberty then what wi&s;edome or|daines,
<PB N="45" REF="63"> and &s;huts up from them that large pa&s;&s;age which <HI>Maje&s;tie</HI> &s;ets open. Behold a man who can ab|&s;taine in the mid&s;t of plenty, and when he hath an appetite; who by his vertue knows how to &s;et bounds to a power which hath none at all; and though a <HI>Prince,</HI> leades a more mode&s;t and regular life then the meane&s;t Citizen in the &s;malle&s;t Re|publick! Behold under the Lawes and in his Duty, him, who &s;eeth no|thing but Heaven above him, who can &s;inne again&s;t none but God one|ly; Who weares a Crown as Inde|pendent as any in the world can be; and f r whom, the Church, which &s;pends her thunders upon all others heads, hath nothing but ble&s;&s;ings and graces: He, I &s;ay, payes &s;o perfect an obedience to rea&s;on; and mana|geth his actions with &s;o exact an ho|ne&s;tie, that I &s;eem, in &s;tead of the King of <HI>France,</HI> to &s;ee the King of <HI>Lacedemon,</HI> who had no other ad|vantage above his Subjects, but that
<PB N="46" REF="64"> he was &s;uffered to be more valiant, and to commit fewer faults.</P>
<P>I wonder not that &s;inne is &s;o little known in Villages, and that men pre&s;erve their innocence where it is hard to lo&s;e it. That man is ve|ry unfortunate that drownes him|&s;elf where there is &s;carce water e|nough to quench his thir&s;t; and who falls down when no body pu&s;heth him. But when al the powers of hell ri&s;e up at once to a&s;&s;ault him; when his eies, his eares, and all the other in|lets of his heart are be&s;eiged, and that the enemy &s;eeks to enter at every gate, he doth certainly, as it were, more then he ought, if he with&s;tand &s;uch violent on&s;ets, and re&s;i&s;t &s;o many a&s;&s;ailants.</P>
<P>When plea&s;ant objects pre&s;&s;e him and pur&s;ue him on all &s;ides, and the end of the faire&s;t things is to render them&s;elves worthy of his love. When the &s;parkling of Diamonds kindles in his &s;oule a de&s;ire to have them, and the bigne&s;&s;e of the Jewel
<PB N="47" REF="64"> &s;ets him a lingring after it; and for the &s;mall account he makes of wronged Maje&s;tie, all that is ano|thers may pre&s;ently become his. When Fortune her &s;elf opens him a pa&s;&s;age to the conque&s;t of the Uni|ver&s;e, and di&s;po&s;eth all things &s;o for him, that for all the paine of the ex|ecution &s;he leaveth him only the glory of the &s;ucce&s;&s;e; when it de|pends only upon him&s;elf that he turnes not his Neighbour out of hou&s;e and home, and that within fifteen daies he removes not the Frontiers of his State fiftie leagues: He mu&s;t needs love vertue very well who will not for&s;ake her, in an en|counter where vice offereth &s;o large a reward, if he will follow her, and when he hath great pretences in ano|ther world, to contemne the ble&s;|&s;ings and hopes of this here.</P>
<P>Philo&s;ophie, though never &s;o pre|&s;umptuous, hath not been able to arrive thus far, and whatever vanity &s;he boa&s;ts of; She promi&s;eth much
<PB N="48" REF="65"> but often breaketh her word. She hath courage enough to a&s;pire t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> perfection, but wanteth ability t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> compa&s;&s;e it; This force is prop<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> and particular to the faithfull, wh<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> can do all in Him that helpeth them It is nothing but the <HI>Morality</HI> of <HI>Je&s;us Chri&s;t</HI> which can forme &s;o ex|cellent an habite; and it is This which rai&s;eth the <HI>King</HI> &s;o much a|bove the great ones of the world and placeth him &s;o neer the begin|ning of all greatne&s;&s;e; that though apparantly there be nothing more eminent then &s;overaignty, yet he mu&s;t de&s;cend from a higher place, and deba&s;e him&s;elf as often as he will &s;it upon the Throne of his Fa|thers, and communicate with Mor|talls. He already beholds the earth as tho&s;e that look down upon it from Heaven; Nothing appeare great to him in &s;o &s;mall a &s;pace: He finds nothing worthy whereon to re&s;t his thoughts, or to take up his de&s;ires: All that it containes will
<PB N="49" REF="65"> but half fil him; The only enjoyment of God is capable to &s;atisfie &s;o large a heart; which &s;o is it, to &s;ay no more, his love and Ambition, his part and inheritance. The People and States which he governes are but con&s;e|quences to this, and Acce&s;&s;ories.</P>
<P>That which takes plea&s;ure to crown <HI>Shepheards,</HI> and to put <HI>Kings</HI> in chaines, (which is equally cur&s;ed and adored in the world;) Fortune I meane, cau&s;eth all her di&s;orders be|low him, and is too weak to attach his con&s;tancy, too poor to tempt his moderation. He knows no pro&s;pe|rous, or ill fortune, but a good and bad con&s;cience. He is much more glorious by his Bapti&s;me then his Coronation, and values more the lea&s;t priviledge of Grace, then all the advantages of Nature. Never was any mind better per&s;waded of what we expect hereafter, then his; nor ever did any receive more lively impre&s;&s;ions of Truth, or think higher of the dignity of Chri&s;tianity, or ex|hibite
<PB N="50" REF="66"> fairer and more glorious de|mon&s;trations of h<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">s Beliefe.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="7" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. VII.</HEAD>
<P>LEt no man talk to me of that dull imitation of Piety which only looks for Spectators; which amu&s;eth the world with countenan|ces, and bu&s;ieth it &s;elf rather to or|der the motions of the head, and to appear in certain po&s;tures of the face, then to regulate the affections of the &s;oule: This is a meer action of the body, and of very ea&s;ie performance; the greate&s;t di&s;&s;ability is corrected at the fir&s;t tryall; There needeth nei|ther &s;trength nor indu&s;try, and re|quires no more pains then tho&s;e ea&s;ie &s;ports which recreate without wea|rying, and are learnt without a Ma&s;ter.</P>
<P>It is a kind of lazine&s;&s;e di&s;gui&s;ed under an hone&s;ter name then its own; or at mo&s;t, but a faint and idle imployment, which a man may very
<PB N="51" REF="66"> worthily di&s;charge, when he can do nothing, and which is wholly taken up either in mumbling &s;ome confu|&s;ed words, or in a meer moving of the lips, or la&s;tly in a &s;oft glance of the eyes after a counterfeited &s;ad|ne&s;&s;e.</P>
<P>There is another kind of fal&s;e Devotion more dangerous then this; I mean that fearfull trembling devo|tion, which imagines that God is bu&s;ied in his Ble&s;&s;ed re&s;t, only to pre|pare pain and puni&s;hments for him; and that he afflicts Kingdomes and &s;ends pe&s;tilence and famines, only for the hatred he bears them. Vi&s;ions go forth as in a throng of his troubled imagination, which afterward come before him as &s;o many &s;trange and unknown Mon&s;ters.</P>
<P>There pa&s;&s;eth no night but the Gho&s;ts of dead men appear unto him, with &s;trange &s;hapes and fear|full attendance, which his fancy be|&s;towes upon them. He never heares a cry in the night but he believes it to
<PB N="52" REF="67"> be the complaint of a departed &s;oule; If he &s;ee one part of the ayre blacker and more thick then another, he pre|&s;ently conceives it a phanta&s;me. All maladies are with him Po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ions, and where there is need only of a Phy&s;itian, he makes u&s;e of <HI>Exor|ci&s;ts.</HI></P>
<P>This &s;o weakens the &s;pirit and a|bates the courage, that tho&s;e that are &s;mitten with it, dare not injoy them&s;elves in time of peace, nor de|fend them&s;elves in the nece&s;&s;ity of warre. One fooli&s;h dream is enough to make them de&s;i&s;t from a good de|&s;igne; of five dayes they reckon foure unluckie, and make choi&s;e of tho&s;e houres and moments, which they have marked with white, before they undertake any the lea&s;t bu&s;ine&s;&s;e; &s;o that oftentimes the opportunity &s;lips over before they have fix'd their re&s;olution. They are half-over|come at the croaking of a Raven, or at the meeting of a Weezell, and they &s;o fondly cheri&s;h their errour, that to
<PB N="53" REF="67"> keep up the credit of their opinion, they will rather deliver them&s;elves to their Enemies, then &s;uffer one omen to prove fal&s;e.</P>
<P>The&s;e men adore all their &s;u&s;pici|ons, and their doubts; They make Saints by their own private authori|ty, without tarrying till they are dead, or for the Oracle of the &s;u|pream Bi&s;hop. They give Divine ho|nours to tho&s;e that are yet &s;ubject to humane infirmities; who are lyable to the inqui&s;ition, and know not whether they are worthy of love or of hatred; yet the&s;e &s;uper&s;t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">tious ones canonize them in their hearts, in de&s;pite of <HI>Rome</HI> and the Con&s;i&s;to|ry; and pa&s;&s;ing from an extream fear to an extream ra&s;hne&s;&s;e, and from the de&s;paire of their own &s;al|vation to the di&s;tribution of glory to another, they addre&s;&s;e their vows to them, and pray unto them as if already they were in a &s;tate to hear their petitions, and being guilty them&s;elves could notwith&s;tanding
<PB N="54" REF="68"> pardon their companions.</P>
<P>After this the gro&s;&s;e&s;t and the fulle&s;t bodies appear to them tran&s;|parent and full of light; There's not a haire of the head which they re|verence, but &s;eemes to them a ray of its Crown; They think that to be a Saint in an exta&s;ie, which is but a woman in a &s;woone: They &s;wear that they have revelations of things to come, and yet they &s;carce know the ordinary news of the time when one hath told them. In their opini|on, it is as ea&s;ie to rai&s;e a dead man, as to awaken one a&s;leep.</P>
<P>If you will believe them, the world is continually troubled with prodigies, and they can more ea&s;ily per&s;wade them&s;elves, that &s;omething happens contrary to the ordinary cour&s;e of nature, then that he that relates it &s;hould be a lyar. The calm|e&s;t fits of &s;o trouble&s;ome a maladie are not without much extravagancy. There are who to marry more Chri|&s;tianly, have taken wives out of the
<PB N="55" REF="68"> Stewes, that &s;o (as they &s;ay) they may gain &s;ouls to our Lord.</P>
<P>Some being to receive money which was due to them, have bin &s;crupulous to receive it in <HI>Jacobi&s;&s;is,</HI> becau&s;e they come from an excom|municated Countrey: Others have confe&s;&s;ed they &s;erv'd the State in its troubles, and yet were not of the league; And I know &s;ome who believe, they are bound in con&s;cience to betray their Countrey, and give advice to the contrary Party, becau&s;e the holy &s;cripture hath commanded them to do good to their Ene|mies.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="8" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. VIII.</HEAD>
<P>YEt the mo&s;t of the&s;e contain them&s;elves within the bounds of an innocent folly; their will is en|tire, though their judgement be cor|rupted: They are deceived by &s;ome &s;hadow and Image of Religion which is pre&s;ented to them, but they
<PB N="56" REF="69"> make not u&s;e of Religion to deceive others; nor &s;ubject to their particu|lar de&s;ignes that which ought to be the Queen and Mi&s;tre&s;&s;e of all hu|mane things. We &s;ee then Chea|ters in the world, who appear to be what they are not, and prai&s;e ju&s;tice that they may be more unju&s;t after|wards. There are <HI>Phari&s;ees</HI> who make clean the out&s;ide of the cup, be|ing full of rapine and filth within; who build the Sepulchres of the Prophets, and erect Monuments of Saints, whom they are &s;till ready to kill, if they &s;hould returne into the world again to tell them the Truth, and reprove their wicked life. The judgement which is made of the goodne&s;&s;e of things by their meer out&s;ide and externall appearance, is not alwaies infallible: Sometimes a lye is more likely then Truth, and wickedne&s;&s;e makes a fairer &s;hew then goodne&s;&s;e it &s;elf. No man doubts but that it is a work of mer|cy to redeem pri&s;oners, to pay the
<PB N="57" REF="69"> debts of mi&s;erable men, to di&s;tribute corne to the people in time of dearth; and yet in well-ordered Common-wealths, men have been puni&s;hed for exerci&s;ing &s;uch works of mercy, and many wicked Citizens have by this meanes made them&s;elves Tyrants.</P>
<P>How many fal&s;e Philo&s;ophers have there been, who under an au|&s;tere vi&s;age have concealed mo&s;t in|ordinate affections; who have de&s;pi|&s;ed glory out of pride not humility; who have profe&s;&s;ed poverty to make <HI>Princes</HI> reverence them. In the &s;crip of that famous <HI>Cynick</HI> who lived in the dayes of <HI>Lucian,</HI> where one would have thought there was nothing but beanes and cour&s;e bread, were found a bale of Dice, a box of Perfumes, and the portraiture of a woman. He that you think is fled into the wilderne&s;&s;e to be at lea&s;ure to contemplate, with le&s;&s;e di&s;tur|bance, is gone thither, perhaps, to make fal&s;e money with more &s;ecuri|tie.</P>
<PB N="58" REF="70">
<P>We have heard of a <HI>Prince</HI> who retired him&s;elf very orderly every Holy-day into religious hou&s;es, and there, while people thought that he examined his con&s;cience and perfor|med other &s;pirituall exerci&s;es, he was taken many times making di&s;patches, and entertaining &s;ecret audiences. Do not tru&s;t a feigned humility, not the evill deportment of that dire|ctor of con&s;ciences, who alwaies &s;eems prepared to die; for within he is cloathed with purple; he hath the ambition of four <HI>Kings;</HI> he hath de&s;ignes for another age. But above all, defie tho&s;e workers of iniquity, powerfull in malice, who lift up pol|luted hands to Heaven, and are not afraid to approach our our mo&s;t &s;a|cred my&s;teries being yet bloody with their parricides.</P>
<P>They are cruell, Ince&s;tuous, Sacri|legious, and yet cea&s;e not to be de|vout: Their devotion corrects their ge&s;tures, reformes their haire, but doth not at all touch their pa&s;&s;i|ons,
<PB N="59" REF="70"> nor meddle with thir vices. They make it all their vertue to prai&s;e <HI>Catholikes</HI> and &s;peak evill of <HI>Hugenotes:</HI> Oh what great exploits would they do in a ma&s;&s;acre, and how valiant would they be again&s;t men a&s;leep, and invited to a mar|riage.</P>
<P>Their zeale, which according to the meaning of the Holy Gho&s;t, ought to devoure them&s;elves, de|voureth their Neighbour, and burn|eth Towns and Provinces; They gain nothing by frequenting holy things, but the contempt which grows from familiaritie, &amp; the cu&s;tome to violate them. They became more bold to commit wickedne&s;&s;e, and not at all more hone&s;t, they lo&s;e the &s;cruple, and leave not the &s;in; &s;o that we may believe they come not &s;o much to Church to ask pardon for their faults, as leave to commit more, and to &s;in with authoritie.</P>
<P>And as &s;ome of the <HI>Primitive Chri&s;tians</HI> made nothing of it to
<PB N="60" REF="71"> drink overmuch, &s;itting upon the Tombs of the <HI>Martyrs;</HI> they fancy al&s;o, that all wickedne&s;&s;e is permitted them, provided they retain &s;ome &s;hew of Pietie,</P>
<P>The mo&s;t part of great men have alwaies had this &s;pecious devotion; and though it be a u&s;uall vizard, and known to every one, yet they cea&s;e not to make u&s;e of it, thereby to a|bu&s;e the people.</P>
<P>Do we not know tho&s;e that mingle God among their pa&s;&s;ions, who in|gage him in their Intere&s;ts, and em|ploy him upon all occa&s;ions? If they u&s;urpe a Kingdom, over which they have no right but that of convenien|cie or force, they &s;ay it is to hinder the Enemies of the Church from &s;ei&s;ing upon it, and to prevent an e|vill, which po&s;&s;ibly would never fall out.</P>
<P>If their Avarice makes them cro&s;&s;e the Seas, and run to the worlds end, they publi&s;h, it is for the good of &s;ouls, and the de&s;ire they have to
<PB N="61" REF="71"> &s;ave Infidels, that drawes them thi|ther; and yet it is very true, that the charitie of the&s;e good Chri&s;tians, carries them only to tho&s;e Countries where the Sun warms the earth into gold; and is not at all employed to|wards the furthe&s;t part of the North, where are &s;oules enough to be converted, but where they can only get fro&s;t and Snow. They are &s;ollicitous only for the &s;alvation of the people of <HI>Peru</HI> and <HI>Mexica,</HI> and being arrived thither, they &s;peak &s;o little to them of our faith, and &s;ell a confus'd and imperfect picture at &s;o dear a rate, that it is ea&s;ie to &s;ee, the pretence which they make is not the cau&s;e of their voyage; At their fir&s;t landing, they lade their ve&s;&s;els with all &s;ort of riches which the Countrey affords, and &s;pend whole ages to &s;eek more which are hid in Mines, in&s;omuch, that there &s;carce comes one <HI>Pi&s;tole</HI> into <HI>Europe,</HI> which doth not co&s;t the life of an <HI>Indian,</HI> and is not the &s;inne of a <HI>Catholique.</HI>
<PB N="62" REF="72"> In the mean time, they &s;uffer antient Divinitie to cry in the Schooles and Pulpits, where &s;he is li&s;tened to only by women and children. She &s;aith &s;ufficiently, that the lea&s;t evill is forbidden, though it produce ne|ver &s;o great a good. That if the world cannot be pre&s;erved without a &s;in, let it peri&s;h: That it is not for us to trouble the cour&s;e of <HI>Provi|dence,</HI> and to intere&s;&s;e our &s;elves in things above: That God hath put in our hands his Commandements, and not the guidance of the Uni|ver&s;e; and bids us do our Duty, and let God alone with his own work.</P>
<P>There is &s;prung up &s;ince, another Divinity more &s;weet and plea&s;ant, which can better fit it &s;elf to the hu|mour of great ones, which accom|modates all the&s;e <HI>Maximes</HI> to their Intentions, and is not rude and uncivill as that former.</P>
<P>The Court hath brought forth &s;ome Doctors, who have found
<PB N="63" REF="72"> out the means, to make vice agree with vertue, and to unite extreams &s;o farre oppo&s;ite. They allow expe|diences for tho&s;e who have taken other folks goods, for a power to keep them with a &s;afe con&s;cience. They teach <HI>Princes</HI> to enterpri&s;e up|on the life of other <HI>Princes,</HI> after they have declared them Hereticks in their Clo&s;et. They teach them to &s;horten warrs, which they appre|hend long and chargeable, by A&s;&s;a&s;|&s;inats, where they hazard only the per&s;on of a Traytor, and to di&s;|charge them&s;elves of their children without any legall proceeding, pro|vided it be with the con&s;ent of their Confe&s;&s;our.</P>
<P>Be&s;ides, as if our Lord were merce|narie, and would be corrupted with gifts: as if he were the <HI>Pagans Ju|piter,</HI> whom they call to &s;hare in their &s;poiles and Booties; after a number of infinite crimes whereof they are guiltie, they require of them neither tears, re&s;titution, nor
<PB N="64" REF="73"> pennance; It is enough that they be&s;tow &s;ome &s;mall almes upon the Church. They compound with them for that which they have taken from a thou&s;and per&s;ons, for a &s;mall part which they give to others to whom they owe nothing: And they are made believe, that the Foundation of a Convent, or the guilding of a Chappel, di&s;pen&s;eth with them for all obligations of Chri&s;tianitie, and all vertues of Moralitie.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="9" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. IX.</HEAD>
<P>VVE have a <HI>Prince</HI> who doth not make u&s;e of the&s;e Guides for the direction of his con|&s;cience, and who derives from a bet|ter fountain the <HI>Maximes</HI> by which he governs. He would not behold with &s;o evill eyes tho&s;e men that &s;hould come purpo&s;ely to poi&s;o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> him, as &s;uch Doctors, who would corrupt him with their breath; and
<PB N="65" REF="73"> he would with more patience &s;uf|fer in his Court <HI>Jewes</HI> and <HI>Magi|cians,</HI> that is to &s;ay, declared Ene|mies to the truth, then tho&s;e &s;er|vants, who weare the Livery of <HI>Ie|&s;us Chri&s;t,</HI> and are at his wages for no other end but to betray him. But what need is there of a plea|&s;ing Divinitie, when it doth no|thing but what the &s;evere&s;t injoyns him to? To what u&s;e are the &s;el|lers of paint and plai&s;ters, &s;ince he hath no &s;pot to cover, nor deformi|ty to di&s;gui&s;e? Or what plea&s;ure can he take in the wrangling of three or foure <HI>Sophi&s;ters</HI> among the applaudings of the people, and the prai&s;es of renown?</P>
<P>Knowing that our Religion commands us to ab&s;tain from all appearance of evill, and to do that which is good, not only before God, but al&s;o before men; he contents not him&s;elf with a &s;ecret pietie, and bare wor&s;hip of the &s;pi|rit, but believeth, that he is bound
<PB N="66" REF="74"> to give &s;omething to the eyes of the world, and hath a care by his exam|ple to edifie his people.</P>
<P>The lea&s;t Ceremonies which re|&s;pect divine wor&s;hip, he e&s;teems highly of: he mingles his voice, &s;ome|times, with the publick prayers, and is mindfull of the Speech of a <HI>King,</HI> like him&s;elf: <HI>I am weary of cry|ing, I am hoar&s;e, mine eyes faile for crying, and looking after my God.</HI></P>
<P>Yet this devotion hath alwayes more &s;ub&s;tance then &s;hew, and is like tho&s;e Trees who&s;e roots are longer then their branches: It is not bodily, nor tyed to &s;en&s;ible ob|jects: It hath its &s;eat in the under|&s;tanding which is perfectly enlight|ned, which hath no mean belief concerning the things of heaven; nor hath any, but mo&s;t found and rea&s;onable opinions of this fir&s;t and excellent cau&s;e, of which mo&s;t men make &s;uch ra&s;h and precipitated judgments.</P>
<PB N="67" REF="74">
<P>But becau&s;e this quality would be, as it were, dead, and of no u&s;e, if it came not from the highe&s;t re|gion of the &s;oule, where the di&s;|cour&s;e and the under&s;tanding are formed, and &s;eeing it mu&s;t equally re&s;ide in the &s;econd part, where the affections and the de&s;ires receive their birth; he maketh it de&s;cend from the head to the heart, that that which was light, may become fire, and that &s;o high and elevated a knowledge, which ought to be fertile in great operations, and i&s;&s;u|eth forth by admirable effects, may not be terminated in it &s;elf, nor re&s;t in the idle de&s;ires of a bare &s;pecula|tion.</P>
<P>Let us not therefore con&s;ider it only at the Altar, and in the Ora|tory, where without any danger it treateth with God, and exerci&s;eth a peaceable intercour&s;e, which no bo|dy can di&s;turb: for it is found in the occa&s;ions of warr as well as
<PB N="68" REF="75"> there. It appears in the head of our Troops, it goes into the Trenches; and expo&s;eth to all the injuries of the time, to all the ambu&s;hments of fortune, the mo&s;t precious life which is this day in the world. It is not employed only to the &s;tructure and garni&s;hing of &s;ome &s;tones, but it fa&s;teneth the Altars, and a&s;&s;ures the foundations of the Church: It provideth <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> cloth, which he fils with &s;tore of Converts, who, to become good, had need to have the power of doing ill taken from them.</P>
<P>The&s;e are the effects of his devoti|on, which is active, and taketh pains without re&s;t, and thereby prevailes with the <HI>Lord of Ho&s;ts,</HI> for victories full of wonders, as well upon the earth, as upon the Sea. And it is &s;o, as I conceive, that God will be praid unto in the time of warr. Who re|fu&s;eth nothing in the&s;e occa&s;ions to earne&s;t and &s;tirring men, and hear|eth much more willingly, the cou|ragious
<PB N="69" REF="75"> then the lazie; and tho&s;e who &s;et them&s;elves forward for his graces, and are prepared to receive them, then tho&s;e who expect them at their lodging, without putting them&s;elves in any condition to de|&s;erve them.</P>
<P>That Regiment of Chri&s;tians, who in the time of <HI>Marcus Aurelius,</HI> and under his Banners, cau&s;ed thun|der to fall from heaven upon their enemies from, whence they merited the name of the <HI>Thundering Legi|on,</HI> did not obtaine &s;o marvellous a &s;ucce&s;&s;e with their arms a Cro&s;&s;e, but in the pur&s;uit of a fierce and bold a&s;&s;ault, and fighting on all &s;ides.</P>
<P>And when the winds and the hayle armed them&s;elves at the prayer of the Emperour <HI>Theodo&s;ius,</HI> again&s;t the Tyrant <HI>Eugenes,</HI> it was a prayer which he made on hor&s;e|back, after he had perform'd the du|ty of a good Captain, and render'd him&s;elf worthy &s;o great a miracle:
<PB N="70" REF="76"> For otherwi&s;e to de&s;ire of God to favour the unworthy, and that he &s;hould be&s;tow upon the cowardly and fearfull, the recompence which is due to labour and valour, would be to make u&s;e of him indi&s;creetly, and to &s;ollicite him to inju&s;tice.</P>
<P>It is nece&s;&s;ary therefore, that a <HI>Prince</HI> be devout in this fir&s;t kind, and as the <HI>King</HI> was at the fight of <HI>Ree,</HI> in the defeat of the <HI>Engli&s;h.</HI> He could not produce a more emi|nent act of Pietie; and if it be infe|riour to that of <HI>Martyrs,</HI> which I can hardly confe&s;&s;e, it is only in one degree, becau&s;e in the humility of Chri&s;tianity, &s;uffering is more e|&s;teemed, then doing.</P>
<P>But be it as it will, this victo|rious Devotion is &s;uch, that it hath gained our <HI>Kings</HI> the name of <HI>Mo&s;t Chri&s;tian,</HI> which was unknown be|fore them, and which mu&s;t be ex|pre&s;&s;'d again&s;t the u&s;e of all langua|ges, for an honour to their victories and their zeale.</P>
<PB N="71" REF="76">
<P>The &s;ame Devotion hath recei|ved the&s;e Te&s;timonies from the mouth of the &s;upream Bi&s;hops; That God made u&s;e of the <HI>Kings</HI> of <HI>France,</HI> as of his Principall forces, and as an invincible Bulwark to de|fend the <HI>Chri&s;tian Republick:</HI> That their Kingdome was his Quiver, from whence he drew all his arrows with which he &s;hoots again&s;t Ty|rants. The &s;ame at this day de&s;erves the &s;ame Elogies, &amp; carries the <HI>King</HI> to &s;uch high enterpri&s;es, that they cannot be drawn into example; And be&s;ides, the valour which is born with him, and which he hath gained by rea&s;on, a third kind of courage doth in&s;pire him, which is a &s;pecies of Divine fury, with which the <HI>Orthodox Princes</HI> have hereto|fore bin agitated, when their bare pre&s;ence hath put Armies to flight, and the Enemies have di&s;covered &s;omething extraordinary in their faces, which they dur&s;t not re&s;i&s;t.</P>
<P>As it is not alwaies a meer exhala|tion
<PB N="72" REF="77"> lifted up from the earth which cau&s;eth &s;trange and fearefull fires; which far exceed the materiall and Elementary one: But they are of|ten the effects of Spirits which en|ter into naturall cau&s;es: So &s;ome|times into humane actions there de|&s;cends a beame of Divinity, which enforceth and perfecteth them, ex|tending their power and vertue al|mo&s;t to Infinitene&s;&s;e, which drawes after it the a&s;toni&s;hment and ad|miration of the people.</P>
<P>And if it be true that the innocence which our fir&s;t Father lo&s;t, &s;tamped upon him a character of Authority, which the wild bea&s;ts acknowledg|ed, and which made him be reveren|ced of what was mo&s;t cruell and terrible in nature; I wonder not that a man, who by his vertue &s;eem|eth to have recovered this originall and ancient righteou&s;ne&s;&s;e, have an advantage over other men, and that for the mo&s;t part he finds &s;ubmi&s;|&s;ion where wicked men meet with
<PB N="73" REF="77"> re&s;i&s;tance. I wonder not, that having a mind void of all remor&s;e and teares which accompany &s;inne, he is extreamly valiant; and feeling neither trouble nor di&s;order in him|&s;elf, which makes a diver&s;ion of his thoughts, he fight with more li|berty then &s;inners, who are wearied and hurried w<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">th an internall and &s;ecret warr, when they march a|gain&s;t their enemies. A troubled con&s;cience pre&s;umes cruel things: Malice is fearefull, and given to a man for condemnation; and there|fore a <HI>Prince,</HI> who hath none but holy intentions, can have none but good hopes: Enterpri&s;es of the greate&s;t danger are of no difficultie with him. He goeth with a firme belief, that what was not e&s;teemed fea&s;ible by his <HI>Predece&s;&s;ors,</HI> is re&s;er|ved for his <HI>Pietie,</HI> and he is never in pain for the uncertainty of the event, becau&s;e he is not engaged up|on the faith of an <HI>Almanack,</HI> and the propo&s;itions of an <HI>A&s;trologer,</HI>
<PB N="74" REF="78"> but he follows the <HI>In&s;pirations</HI> of the God of <HI>Chri&s;tians,</HI> who in the &s;ame place where he is called <HI>Won|derfull, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father,</HI> is al&s;o called, <HI>The Coun&s;ellour.</HI> He re&s;ts him|&s;elf upon his word that cannot lye, and who hath promi&s;ed tho&s;e that &s;erve him, to a&s;&s;i&s;t them vi&s;ibly with his Angels. To go him&s;elf in per&s;on to be their &s;word and buckler, to hide them in his Tabernacle in the time of adver&s;itie, and to pre&s;erve them in the &s;ecret place of his pavillion, to &s;end his feare before them, and to affrighten all people again&s;t whom they &s;hall come; to drive out Nations before them, and to divide the Land to them for an In|heritance. But let the wor&s;t come, when the&s;e temporall promi&s;es &s;hall not be punctually performed, and that good &s;ucce&s;&s;e &s;hall not of ne|ce&s;&s;ity follow a good cau&s;e: When the <HI>Ju&s;t &s;hall not flouri&s;h as the Palme-tree, nor be lifted up as the
<PB N="75" REF="78"> Cedar in Libanus;</HI> it is impo&s;&s;ible that a religious <HI>Prince</HI> &s;hould feare death, beyond which he &s;eeth &s;o great rewards which attend him; and that he &s;hould be loath to leave a Kingdome inclo&s;ed between the <HI>Alps</HI> and the <HI>Pyrencan</HI> hills to go and take po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of another <HI>Kingdome</HI> which hath no bounds nor limits.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="10" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. X.</HEAD>
<P>THe Piety of the <HI>King</HI> is emi|nently &s;hewn in that generous contempt which he makes of the mo&s;t terrible of all terrible things. But univer&s;ally it appears in all kind of good works, which are the true and e&s;&s;entiall works of Chri&s;tian Di&s;cipline; for it is mo&s;t certain, that without them Faith is not recompenced with happine&s;&s;e. The knowledge of heavenly things doth not merit Heaven; Prayer is but a meer noi&s;e; and Sacrifices no
<PB N="76" REF="79"> other then murthers. And indeed, though in <HI>Exodus</HI> they are called, more then once, the meat and nou|ri&s;hment of the Lord; yet for the rea&s;on I have alleaged, it is written in other places: <HI>The Sacrifices of the wicked are an abomination to the Lord;</HI> He which offereth a Sacri|fice of the &s;ub&s;tance of the poor, is as if he &s;acrificed a Son in the pre|&s;ence of his Father: God recei|veth not wicked gifts, and the offer|ings of &s;in. He prote&s;teth to Be|lievers, That he knoweth not what to do with the multitude of their Oblations; That he is full; That he de&s;ires not the fat and the bloud of Bea&s;ts; That Incen&s;e is an abomina|tion to him; That he cannot abide their <HI>new-Moons,</HI> nor their <HI>Sab|baths,</HI> nor their other <HI>Fea&s;ts:</HI> That his &s;oule hateth their <HI>new-Moons,</HI> and their <HI>Solemn A&s;&s;emblies;</HI> That they are a burthen to him, that he cannot away with them: That he will not hear them when they mul|tiplie
<PB N="77" REF="79"> many prayers, becau&s;e their hands are full of bloud, that when they &s;tretch them out towards him, he will turne his face from them. Moreover as, in the Law, he did not receive for an offering neither the price of a dog, nor the hire of an harlot; &s;o under the Go&s;pel he de|&s;ires that Alms be given of tho&s;e things which are lawfully gotten. He will have the <HI>Piety</HI> of <HI>Chri&s;ti|ans</HI> active, their &s;implicity advi&s;ed, their wi&s;edome befitting; and ad|moni&s;heth us in expre&s;&s;e terms, that we &s;hall know his by their fruits, And that men do not gather grapes of thorns, nor <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">igs of thi&s;tles. Think you, if grief could enter into Hea|ven, and if the ble&s;&s;ed &s;pirits who in|habit there, had carried their pa&s;&s;i|ons with them, it would not grieve them, that there is &s;o much Ceremo|ny &s;pent in celebrating their Fe&s;ti|vals, and &s;o little care taken in imi|tating their vertues. And can you imagine that the <HI>Holy</HI> of <HI>Holies</HI>
<PB N="78" REF="80"> would have a better devotion from us, then that which brings us neere&s;t to him by the exerci&s;e of hone&s;t things? Or that he hath any more plea&s;ant object, when he looks down upon earth, then to con&s;ider the progre&s;&s;e which the <HI>King</HI> makes in the de&s;ign he hath to follow him? For to &s;peak truly, it is not in counterfiteing Thunder, nor in car|rying a Trident in one hand, and a Globe in the other; nor in com|manding to be called <HI>Eternals,</HI> that <HI>Princes</HI> re&s;emble him; But in go|verning the people wi&s;ely, in de|livering the feeble from the oppre&s;|&s;ion of the mighty, and in doing good to all the world. It is not the power of God which men mu&s;t imitate, but his goodne&s;&s;e and Ju|&s;tice, whereof we may repre&s;ent &s;ome draughts and &s;hadows; and which the <HI>King</HI> po&s;&s;e&s;&s;eth with &s;o full and liberall a Communication, that it would be as hard to lead the Sun out of his cour&s;e, and to di&s;or|der
<PB N="79" REF="80"> the motions of the heavens, as to turn him from hone&s;tie. Where|fore though he is oftentimes &s;een pro&s;trated before his Confe&s;&s;or, and all his Maje&s;tie humbled at the feet of one of his Subjects; we are not to conceive that his habit of &s;in|ing, renders that action more fami|liar. For &s;peaking after the man|ner of men, and in the rigor of our ju&s;tice, he &s;eemeth &s;carce to have lo&s;t his innocence. He hath not therefore alwaies need of the pow|er of the Prie&s;t, but he demands comfort &s;ometimes from Divinity: Sometimes he ea&s;eth his &s;pirit over|whelmed with bu&s;ine&s;&s;e, with the entertainment of a man of God: Sometimes he receiveth Councels which he hath already prevented by his actions: He wa&s;heth him&s;elf &s;ometimes to be refre&s;hed, not to be clean&s;ed: He takes remedies to pre|&s;erve his health, not to heal him: He &s;eeks for perfection with &s;o much fervor and violence, that
<PB N="80" REF="81"> when there is place to do better, he accounts good a &s;in. Hence it comes that he ordinarily practi&s;ed hard and dangerous vertues; That he prevents tho&s;e occa&s;io<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> which he might &s;tay for, and when he might be at quiet, he prefers ho|ne&s;t dangers, before unworthy &s;ecu|rity. And hence it is, that he u&s;eth not alwaies his naturall liberty, but is con&s;trained to hide his proper &s;weetne&s;&s;e under a borrowed &s;eve|rity; and with the heart of a Fa|ther he exerci&s;eth the office of a Judge: That &s;ometimes he hath taken the publick cau&s;e again&s;t his own feelings and particular af|fections, and hath pa&s;&s;ed by all kind of re&s;pects to obey Rea&s;on as the Soveraign.</P>
<P>At the beginning of the la&s;t warr, which may be called partly forraign, and partly Civill, in a time when men of &s;ervice were not &s;o common, but that their lo&s;&s;e was remarkable, did he not &s;uffer his Ju|&s;tice
<PB N="81" REF="81"> to ravi&s;h from him per&s;ons who were dear unto him, and whom he would have ran&s;omed with all the Jewels of his Crown, but whom he would not &s;ave by one word of weakne&s;&s;e? In this occa&s;ion the Ser|vices of three Con&s;tables, the merit of the blood of <HI>Montmorency,</HI> the valour of the top of that hou&s;e, al|wayes &s;o dear and &s;o nece&s;&s;ary for <HI>France,</HI> have gained nothing upon him, but grief, for not being able to contribute any thing to &s;o power|full con&s;iderations.</P>
<P>He re&s;i&s;ted the tears of <HI>Prince&s;&s;es,</HI> the prayers of the Court, his own will; as in other encounters, where the &s;weetne&s;&s;e of revenge might &s;eem lawfull, or where he might glut him&s;elf with the blood and &s;laughter of a whole people, he parted, for the love of the publick, with his ju&s;t re&s;entments, and ea&s;ed him&s;elf by the &s;ame motive where|with he was &s;traitned; making it appear thorowout, that he moves
<PB N="82" REF="82"> only by the line of Rea&s;on, and that the <HI>King</HI> is &s;o &s;eparated from the man, and the &s;pirit hath &s;o &s;ubdued the matter, that the Intere&s;ts of his State retain in him at this day, the place of the pa&s;&s;ions of his &s;oule. In|&s;omuch, that he cares not to extend his &s;upream Authority further then needs mu&s;t, &s;ince he confines him|&s;elf within civill Ju&s;tice: He mat|ters not to do that which is forbid|den, becau&s;e he ab&s;tains from that which is permitted; He takes no care to indulge wicked de&s;ires, and to give up him&s;elf to plea&s;ure, &s;ince he denyes many things to nece&s;&s;ity and nature it &s;elf. In a word, he is not carefull to injoy tho&s;e plea&s;ures which are common to men with bea&s;ts, &s;ince he neglects tho&s;e which are common to him with other men, and knows no contentments but tho&s;e &s;erious ones, which ari&s;e out of the &s;atisfaction of a good con&s;cience, and proceed from the glory of great actions, which are
<PB N="83" REF="82"> alwayes fre&s;h and new, and which the Laws do not tolerate as Reme|dies of humane infirmity, but which wi&s;e men propo&s;e as the reward of Heroick vertue.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="11" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XI.</HEAD>
<P>I Know very well, that in this di&s;cour&s;e, I e&s;teem a vertue con|temned of the world; and that the mo&s;t part of tho&s;e who profe&s;&s;e ga|lantry, will reproach me, that I prai&s;e men for the vertues of wo|men; but I value not the opinions of &s;o debauched an age as ours is.</P>
<P>To go right, I go again&s;t the &s;tream of the torrent, and the pre|&s;ent corruption. And &s;ince the E|ternall Word &s;peaks what truth is, and not what Cu&s;tome is, I had ra|ther &s;peak truly, then according to the &s;en&s;e of many, and to hold my &s;elf to rea&s;on, however abandoned, then to Cu&s;tome, though never &s;o much followed.</P>
<PB N="84" REF="83">
<P>It is certain, that all bold acti|ons are not performed in the warr; There is required re&s;olution and courage to be cha&s;t, and fair things are commonly more to be feared then evill things. Grief a&s;&s;aults the &s;tronge&s;t part of our &s;oule, where it meets with de&s;pite and anger which defend it: but plea&s;ure combates the naked'&s;t and weake&s;t pa&s;&s;ages, where it finds nothing but &s;elf-love, which pre&s;ently &s;urrenders; And therefore, as it is not &s;o hard a mat|ter to hold out within the wals, as to maintain a breach, &s;o it is le&s;&s;e to re&s;i&s;t grief, then plea&s;ure. And here|in Religion agrees with Philo&s;o|phie: and fora&s;much, as in the judgment of the Son of God, to root up concupi&s;cence, is no le&s;&s;e then to pluck out an eye, or to cut off a hand: And that Saint <HI>Paul</HI> &s;peaks ordinarily of crucifying it, and &s;aith, that our Affections are our Members: There are in the Church that have believed Conti|nency
<PB N="85" REF="83"> to be an unbloody Martyr|dome, and a per&s;ecution truly in|vi&s;ible, but the longe&s;t, mo&s;t ob|&s;tinate, and mo&s;t violent of all o|thers.</P>
<P>I &s;hall not be afraid therefore, to prai&s;e the <HI>King</HI> for his purity, becau&s;e it makes up one part of his valour, and he owes it to the &s;trength of his rea&s;on, not to the weakne&s;&s;e of his appetites, and for that, the peace of his Con&s;cience comes not from the impotency of his nature, but from the labour and conque&s;t of his &s;pirit; He is not a&s;hamed that men know him to be <HI>King</HI> of him&s;elf, as well as of his people; That he is ab&s;olute within, as well as without, That he is above all kind of Enemies; That there is no combate, whether again&s;t &s;tran|gers, again&s;t his own Subjects, or again&s;t his pa&s;&s;ions, but he remains Ma&s;ter.</P>
<P>Now it is without difficultie granted, that from the&s;e acts of
<PB N="86" REF="84"> valour, there grow &s;uch perfect joys that out of heaven he cannot receiv<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the like; and that the victorious a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the mo&s;t &s;atisfied of all people. Le<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> men boa&s;t as much as they will, t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> faire&s;t eyes that ever have enlight|ned the world, and the worth of tho&s;e proud Creatures who leade <HI>Princes</HI> Captives after them: I<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> all the Empire of plea&s;ure, there i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> no injoyment &s;o &s;weet, as that of a City taken, or of a Battle gained <HI>Leuctres</HI> and <HI>Mantinea</HI> have more delighted <HI>Epaminondas,</HI> then <HI>Tha<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> and <HI>Phryne</HI> all their Lovers.</P>
<P>And though he lo&s;t his life in the la&s;t of the&s;e two Journeys, nor could po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e his glory above half an houre, and that in the dolours of a mortall wound; He dyed notwith|&s;tanding more happily, then the Effeminate live; and would not have exchanged one moment of that time, for their long and unpro|fitable old age.</P>
<P>But if <HI>Epicurus</HI> him&s;elf had the
<PB N="87" REF="84"> courage to &s;ay, that vertue could not be mi&s;erable upon the wheele; That the remembrance of what was pa&s;t, obliged him to confe&s;&s;e, that he found him&s;elf well there, and that the grief, which made his exe|cutioners rage, did only tickle him; &s;hall we doubt that in a calme con|dition, and in a pure pro&s;perity it doth not feel incomparable con|tentments, a thou&s;and times more lively, more &s;ubtile, and more pene|trating, then all the effects of the mo&s;t artificiall delights, which the wit of man hath invented to flatter the body?</P>
<P>We embrace &s;ome objects in this world, which &s;lide away and melt between our hands: which are con|tinually threatned with an end, or with a change, which we are a&s;&s;u|red either &s;uddenly to hate, or to contemne, or el&s;e to love no more. Their nature being to be corrupted, as &s;oon as they are brought forth, the affection which we bear them,
<PB N="88" REF="85"> vani&s;heth with them; and becau&s;e they are not infinite, they mu&s;t needs peri&s;h by their own growth; their de&s;ires ending by injoy|ment, and their motion by we<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">|rine&s;&s;e.</P>
<P>Therefore, let us admire our wi&s;e <HI>Prince,</HI> that knows how to place his pa&s;&s;ions upon tho&s;e objects which he may alwayes love, and which alwayes will be lovely; which are not defiled with the filth of earthly things, which rai&s;e his de|&s;ires to the highe&s;t and fir&s;t beauty, e&s;tranging them from body and matter, as the dregs and impurity of the Creatures. Plea&s;ure with all her inventions and allurements, can|not gain upon him one beginning of a will, nor plea&s;e him at all in &s;ur|pri&s;ing him. He will &s;ooner purifie the Court by his Example, then the Court corrupt him with its de|lights. In all his life there never proceeded one word out of his mouth, which might receive a
<PB N="89" REF="85"> di&s;hone&s;t meaning; nor was it po&s;&s;i|ble to fini&s;h an immode&s;t &s;peech be|fore him, for any man who &s;hould dare to begin it. The mode&s;ty of his Countenance, together with a plea|&s;ant mixture of &s;weetne&s;&s;e and &s;eve|rity, which appear'd in his eyes, &s;tifled evill thoughts in the very &s;oules of men, and reform'd, at the fir&s;t view, what&s;oever approach'd him: &s;o that in his pre&s;ence, the mo&s;t debauched re&s;emble the mo|de&s;te&s;t, and his bare look had pow|er either to change, or to &s;u&s;pend their Inclination.</P>
<P>So rare and difficult a vertue, is indeed the gift of heaven, and a pri|viledge of his birth, but it is al&s;o an effect of his full manner of living, and the fruit of his continuall em|ployments. He gave vice neither means nor time to a&s;&s;ault him; he never yet had lei&s;ure to do ill; and his evill Angel hath alwayes found him bu&s;ie el&s;ewhere, when he hath a&s;&s;ay'd to carry him thither. If he
<PB N="90" REF="86"> could not alwaies be in Warr, or at Coun&s;el, yet his &s;ports and recrea|tion were au&s;tere and toyl&s;ome, his delights martiall and virile. Plea|&s;ure cannot gain upon him by other charms, nor draw him to her but by labour. All his exerci&s;es &s;erve for his principall profe&s;&s;ion; They have &s;ome relation or re&s;emblance with Arms, and are either the Ima|ges, or the Meditations of Warr. The mo&s;t part of <HI>Princes</HI> that we have known, and of whom we have heard &s;peak, are not of this humor; they are not active with &s;o much vigor as appeares in him at his re|laxations, and the re&s;t in which they langui&s;h is &s;o &s;hamefull, that it were more for their honour if it were a pure Lethargie. Some grow old at the Table and &s;pend their dayes and nights in the plea&s;ure of fea&s;ting: others imploy the third part of their life in curling their haires and con&s;ulting the gla&s;&s;e, and tho&s;e that are mo&s;t hone&s;tly
<PB N="91" REF="86"> imployed, be&s;tow all their time and their wit, either in furni&s;hing a Gallery with pictures, or in ex|tracting the e&s;&s;ence of Ie&s;imin, or in drawing a fountain &s;ome four leagues to adorne a Garden, or to calculate their traffick, or to hear the propo&s;itions of an Alchymi&s;t. They are hid many times at the bot|tome of a Pallace, where their own happine&s;&s;e di&s;quiets them, where they complain of the mi&s;ery of their condition, becau&s;e there are no more new plea&s;ures to be di&s;covered: Or in the mid&s;t of their Trea&s;ures and delights, they become poor and lean by their de&s;ires, when with|in they are fatted as Victimes to be immolated: They are perfumed as bodies to be embalmed: They have Torches lighted to them at mid-day, that the Pomp of their life may be the beginning of the preparations to their Funerals, and when one pa&s;&s;eth by their door, they may &s;ay with rea&s;on, <HI>Here
<PB N="92" REF="87"> lyes &s;uch a Prince.</HI> If at any time the noi&s;e of the victories of the <HI>King,</HI> awaken their lazie &s;pirits; and if &s;o lively a light pierce the thickne&s;&s;e and ob&s;curity of their pri&s;ons; perhaps they will come a little out of this profound &s;lumber, and feel &s;ome light touch of glory: But the heart is not yet broken up, and the&s;e good motions produce onely faire wi&s;hes: In&s;tead of imitating the vertue of &s;o brave a <HI>Prince,</HI> they envie his fortune. If &s;ometimes they dare indure the day, and undergo the hazard of &s;ee|ing the Sun, to which they are &s;trange and unacquainted, never think that it is to take in hand &s;ome long journey, or in <HI>Per&s;on</HI> to a&s;&s;i&s;t their <HI>Allies,</HI> that they quit their darkne&s;&s;e and &s;olitude; They go not out of their lodgings, but to make Love in the City, and to force that cha&s;titie whicih re&s;i&s;ts, or to corrupt that which is inclinable to yeild. And at their departure from
<PB N="93" REF="87"> thence, when they have glutted their bruti&s;h pa&s;&s;ions; when they have violated the &s;anctity of <HI>Marriage,</HI> and di&s;honored poor <HI>Families,</HI> they call it &s;port, and &s;eek good words to guild over villanous actions. Was there not one lately, who boa&s;ted he had triumphed over the faire&s;t part of the world, &s;peaking of the La|dies he had loved? And did not a|nother &s;ay he de&s;erved the title of Father of his <HI>People,</HI> he got the mo&s;t Children he could of the Wives of his <HI>Subjects?</HI> In the&s;e la|&s;civious and debauched Courts, the mo&s;t &s;acred Dignities are often|times the recompence of a night, which the <HI>Prince</HI> hath &s;pent plea|&s;antly. Nothing is refu&s;ed to the embracements of an artificiall wo|man, who can make u&s;e of her charmes, nothing is impo&s;&s;ible to her ki&s;&s;es. The lea&s;t of her dalli|ances are able to pardon the guiltie, and procure the condemnation of the Innocent; and that which could
<PB N="94" REF="88"> not pa&s;&s;e in the Coun&s;el, receives no difficulty in the Bed.</P>
<P>But God be thanked, we are &s;ecure from this misfortune, and our Court is pure from this defilement. The de&s;ire of true glory cannot &s;ub|&s;i&s;t where there are &s;maller affecti|ons; and in the heart of the <HI>King</HI> this ardent pa&s;&s;ion con&s;ummates, to &s;peak truth, all the others; being &s;o active as he is without cea&s;ing, how can he dream of plea&s;ure? and being, as he is, extreamly laborious, how &s;hould he fall into the &s;inne of &s;luggards? What&s;oever recreations are pre&s;ented to him, they never withdraw his mind from the affairs of his Kingdome; and though he may ca&s;t a look &s;ometimes upon o|ther objects, yet his &s;ight is &s;till fixed there. What ever he doth, and to what&s;oever he applies him&s;elf, he never forgets to raigne; he never lets down his <HI>Maje&s;tie</HI> into low employments, and unbe&s;eeming his condition. His whole Life, is, as it
<PB N="95" REF="88"> were, equally &s;erious.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="12" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XII.</HEAD>
<P>YOu need not fear that he &s;huts him&s;elf up whole dayes to &s;et together the &s;everall peices of a Clock, or to play a game at Che&s;s: He knows not how to bury him&s;elf a|bout vain imployments, or to &s;tudy for triviall things. He will not take paines to no purpo&s;e, but re&s;erves all the Intentions of his mind, to &s;eek meanes to come to that great end which he propo&s;eth to him&s;elf. Games of hazard plea&s;e him not much more, whether becau&s;e it troubles him to be moved at things of &s;o &s;mal importance, or becau&s;e he had rather give then lo&s;e, or win; or whether he would not have the lea&s;t part of his life &s;ub|ject to fortune: For wre&s;tling, run|ning and fencing, which &s;ome na|tions &s;o much e&s;teem, he holds they
<PB N="96" REF="89"> may be the Plea&s;ures of a <HI>Prince,</HI> b<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> not his Actions; and is a&s;hamed t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> gain reputation from a thin<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> which the <HI>Romans</HI> would not le<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> their Children learn, but taugh<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> it their &s;laves only; and &s;o to re|ceive prai&s;es common to the low|e&s;t of the people. He brings nothing therefore to &s;uch pa&s;times, but hi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> eyes and his pre&s;ence; and comes to them, rather to &s;eem not to con|demn them, or not to be of an ill humour at a publick time of rejoy|cing, then to take delight in them, or at all to be moved with &s;uch poor entertainments.</P>
<P>I doubt not, but he hath read with di&s;dain, the Hi&s;tory of <HI>King Renes, Count</HI> of <HI>Provence,</HI> who was found fini&s;hing the picture of a Par|tridge, by the man that brought him the news of the lo&s;&s;e of his King|dome of <HI>Scicilie:</HI> And I am confi|dent, that if <HI>Selim</HI> Emperour of the <HI>Turks,</HI> in a Tablet which he made and publi&s;hed, had not pain|ted
<PB N="97" REF="89"> a battle which he had gain'd, he would hardly have pardoned him|&s;elf, for letting the world know he was a Painter. Not that he is aver&s;e to curio&s;ities, or an Enemy to neat|ne&s;&s;e and innocent inventions, which comfort and &s;weeten the vexations of this life; For contrari|ly, he beholds di&s;tinctly in the Arts, tho&s;e beauties and graces which are hid to us. He di&s;covers in the workman&s;hip, that which is more &s;ubtile and &s;pirituall; That which is &s;eparated from the re&s;t, and re|tains nothing of the matter; that which ea&s;ily e&s;capes a &s;ight not purged by an exact and &s;ubtile knowledge.</P>
<P>And indeed, it is not without rea&s;on, that we laugh at the rude|ne&s;&s;e of tho&s;e <HI>Princes,</HI> one of which, thought the neighing of his hor&s;e more plea&s;ant then any Mu&s;ick; Another prefer'd the &s;mell of Gar|lick before the artificiall skill of <HI>Perfumers.</HI></P>
<PB N="98" REF="90">
<P>A Lord of <HI>Saxony</HI> walking in the Galleries of the Market at <HI>Rome,</HI> &s;tood &s;till at a Picture which he &s;aw every man admiring, where was repre&s;ented a great withered man, full of age and di&s;ea&s;es, who leaned upon a &s;taffe: But as the Merchant, who thought to make a fortune by the &s;ale of that rare piece, ask'd him how he lik'd his old man, he an|&s;wered innocently, he did not at all like it, and that he would never have it, though a man would give it him for nothing.</P>
<P>And in the memory of our Fa|thers, when our <HI>Pope Adrian,</HI> the &s;ixth, was &s;hewn <HI>Laocoon,</HI> at the Garden of <HI>Belveder,</HI> and &s;ome o|ther Reliques of the <HI>Roman</HI> magni|ficence, he commanded in anger that they &s;hould take away tho&s;e <HI>Pagan</HI> Idols from before him, and was ready to have it made lime to build &s;ome ruinous places of the wals of the City. In the&s;e uncivill and injurious contempts of Antiqui|ty,
<PB N="99" REF="90"> there is either a gro&s;&s;e and bru|ti&s;h ignorance, or a pre&s;umptuous and froward &s;everity; and to be le&s;&s;e then a <HI>Scythian,</HI> you cannot blame the <HI>King;</HI> for having the &s;en&s;es, which have the mo&s;t com|merce with the Spirit, naturally very pure, and to have gained the ut|mo&s;t perfection by Art and Di&s;ci|pline. You cannot blame him for &s;ee|ing and hearing with knowledg, and for having the hands ready and ingenious, and to be able to draw a Combate upon a Cloath, or to paint a Siege which he &s;hall come to make. He will only let the world know, that he under&s;tands many things, which he doth not bu&s;ie him&s;elf in; That he can deeply judge of the profe&s;&s;ion of others, and per|fectly di&s;charge his own; and that he doth not hate the Mu&s;es and their hone&s;t exerci&s;es, but that warr and his affairs allow him no liberty, to be&s;tow any time in them. It is certain, that the Principall <HI>Science</HI> of
<PB N="100" REF="91"> Kings ought to have for its object <HI>Royalty:</HI> Their <HI>Philo&s;ophy</HI> ought to be Practicall, and to quit the &s;hade and Gardens, where they &s;pend a plea|&s;ant and ob&s;cure life, to appear in the Li&s;ts and great Theater of the world, covered over with &s;weat and du&s;t; Their &s;tudy ought not to be imploy'd in &s;eeking out unprofita|ble verities, which make tho&s;e that find them out, neither better nor happier then they were; It mu&s;t labour for the acqui&s;ition of active vertues, and &s;uch as are nece&s;&s;ary for the world; &s;uch as work out the happine&s;&s;e of the State, and not the bare contentments of the mind, ma|king experience of tho&s;e things which the Schools can only di&s;|cour&s;e of.</P>
<P>When I con&s;ider, that the Em|perour <HI>Numerian</HI> commanded this In&s;cription to be &s;et over his <HI>Sta|tuas; To Numerian the be&s;t Ora|tour of his Court:</HI> And that that o|ther Ridiculous <HI>Prince</HI> di&s;patch'd
<PB N="101" REF="91"> Po&s;ts in all places of his Dominion, to give notice of the victory which he had gained in the <HI>Olympick Games;</HI> to wit, over bad Poets, and bad Mu&s;icians; I cannot &s;ufficient|ly wonder at their low ambition, and &s;o ill grounded a vanity. The <HI>Kings</HI> knowledge farr exceeds all that, and his Art is more noble, though he do not exerci&s;e it with &s;o much pomp and o&s;tentation: He under&s;tands that Science, under who&s;e protection all others are &s;afe, and every &s;ociety of men maintains it &s;elf; The <HI>Science,</HI> I mean, of <HI>Governing:</HI> He will not di&s;pute the glory of Language with his Sub|jects, and the Authors of his time; But he can contend for that of Va|lour and Ju&s;tice, with his Ance&s;tors, and all Antiquity.</P>
<P>The former <HI>Lacedemonians</HI> who were <HI>Demy-Gods,</HI> and not Men, were le&s;&s;e knowing then he: They went not to <HI>Athens</HI> to learn words and &s;ubtleties, nor did de&s;ire to con|ferr
<PB N="102" REF="92"> with the <HI>Egyptians,</HI> to re&s;olve their doubts, becau&s;e they did be|lieve, that the Laws of <HI>Lycurgus</HI> had forgotten nothing, and that a|ny other adventitious knowledge was evill and unprofitable.</P>
<P>It would have bin a hard matter, to have ob&s;erved di&s;tinctly in their di&s;cour&s;e, the parts of Eloquence, and to &s;eparate the <HI>Exordium</HI> from the Narration, and the Confirma|tion from the Epilogue; They ex|pre&s;s'd them&s;elves only, as it were, by <HI>Mono&s;yllables,</HI> and if they could have bin under&s;tood without taking the pains to &s;peak, they would have &s;pared them&s;elves tho&s;e few words they then made u&s;e of.</P>
<P>For the <HI>Romans,</HI> who appeared &s;o often in that work, and before and after whom, there was nothing but E&s;&s;ayes or imitations of their wi&s;|dome; It is very true, that they have done all tho&s;e great things which we admire, without know|ing how to make a <HI>Dilemma,</HI> or a
<PB N="103" REF="92"> <HI>Syllogi&s;me:</HI> But as &s;oon as this per|fect vertue gave it &s;elf &s;cope, and when with le&s;&s;e care they had hus|banded their naturall good inclina|tions, they became curious after forraign rarities; as &s;oon as they be|gan to &s;tudy, they began to be cor|rupted, and <HI>Greece</HI> conquer'd her Ma&s;ters by her Vices and Scien|ces.</P>
<P>It hath therefore bin alwayes a common opinion among them, that it was enough to ta&s;t only of Philo|&s;ophie, but by no means to be glut|ted with it: That they might pa&s;&s;e by the <HI>Academy</HI> and the <HI>Lyceum,</HI> provided they did not take up their re&s;t there; and that according to the ages and conditions of men, there might be intemperance in the &s;earch of the be&s;t things; wherefore when old <HI>Cato</HI> &s;et him&s;elfe at the end of his dayes to learn a &s;trange language, they mock'd him as one that prepared him&s;elfe to make &s;peeches in another world, and was
<PB N="104" REF="93"> afraid that <HI>Minos,</HI> who was a <HI>Grecian,</HI> did not under&s;tand <HI>La|tine:</HI> without doubt, Age had alte|red him, and his judgment had a &s;en&s;e of the infirmity of his yeares, &s;eeing that a little before, he made open profe&s;&s;ion, that he hated the <HI>Greek</HI> tongue; that he accounted <HI>Socrates</HI> for a mover of &s;edition and a Babler; and was of opinion, that when all the world ran after the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">hilo&s;opher <HI>Carneades,</HI> that they &s;hould &s;end him quickly to his School, to di&s;pute with the <HI>Grecia<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> Boyes, and leave the <HI>Romans</HI> to o|bey the Laws and Governours of their Countrey.</P>
<P>The&s;e Sage and vertuous Magi|&s;trates re&s;i&s;ted as much as they could, this violent pa&s;&s;ion of the youth: They cha&s;ed away many times, not only the <HI>Mathematicians</HI> and the <HI>Philo&s;ophers,</HI> but al&s;o the <HI>Rhetoricians;</HI> and behold one of their Inditements upon this Sub|ject, wherein may yet be &s;een, the
<PB N="105" REF="93"> Greatne&s;&s;e and Maje&s;tie of the ex|pired Common-Wealth. <HI>We are told, that certain men, who call them|&s;elves</HI> Rhetoricians, <HI>would introduce a new kind of di&s;cipline, and that the young men a&s;&s;emble them&s;elves where they are diligent to hear them. Our Fathers have ordained that which they de&s;ired their children &s;hould learn. The&s;e novelties con|trary to our Ordinances, and to our Cu&s;tomes, are not plea&s;ing to us, nor do &s;eem good.</HI></P>
<P>Certainly, there is no better means to &s;often the courages of men, then to bu&s;ie their wits with &s;till and &s;edentary exerci&s;es; and Cowardline&s;&s;e cannot enter into well ordered States, by a more &s;ub|tile or dangerous cheat then that of Learning. They are the&s;e idle and lazy per&s;ons, who in part, have ruined Trade and Husbandry; who are the Cau&s;es of the weakne&s;&s;e of our State, and the unmanline&s;&s;e of the age.</P>
<PB N="106" REF="94">
<P>And if in a great Kingdome, w<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> can now a daies rai&s;e but &s;ma<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Armies; If <HI>France</HI> &s;ends not no<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> as heretofore, a hundred thou&s;an<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> fighting men into the <HI>Holy La<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> it is not becau&s;e &s;he is le&s;&s;e people<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> then &s;he was, nor that women a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> become barren, nor that more d<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> then did in that time; but it is be+cau&s;e the mo&s;t part of tho&s;e, wh<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> made up tho&s;e formidable Armies embrace a Profe&s;&s;ion contrary to that of Arms, &amp; that there is a great company of people altogether un|profitable, who &s;pend all their An|ger in &s;uits of Law, and make to u&s;e of their hands, but to write and make Books.</P>
<P>When a whole Nation is &s;ick of Logick, or of Poetry; and when in a Countrey they deale more in Sphears and A&s;trolabes, then in o|ther nece&s;&s;aries, it is a mo&s;t certain &s;ign of its approaching ruine: who|ever will undertake it, &s;hall ea&s;ily compa&s;&s;e it, and &s;hall have to do
<PB N="107" REF="94"> with men, who will not awake, but at extremit, yout of their profound &s;peculations; who in a City alrea|dy taken, will under&s;tand neither the &s;ound of Trumpets, nor the noy&s;e of weapons, nor will perceive that there is any danger, till the fire hath &s;ei&s;ed upon their Study, and their Chamber be almo&s;t burnt.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="13" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XIII.</HEAD>
<P>IT is not my Intent for all this to make the world bruti&s;h, and to quench one of the greate&s;t lights of humane life; Nor would I bring back that ob&s;cure night which co|vered the face of the earth, when the <HI>Princes</HI> of <HI>Valois,</HI> and tho&s;e of <HI>Medici,</HI> were divinely &s;ent to cha&s;e away <HI>Barbari&s;me</HI> from the Ages pa&s;t. I know, that as Nature ca&s;ts the &s;eeds of goodne&s;&s;e into our &s;oul, &s;o their maturity depends up|on &s;tudy and exerci&s;e; That as &s;he
<PB N="108" REF="95"> oftentimes effects more then the half of things, &s;o Art mu&s;t fini&s;h them; and di&s;cipline direct and &s;et in order unpoli&s;hed and di&s;orderly vertues.</P>
<P>This Di&s;cipline &s;erves at lea&s;t for a key more &s;ea&s;onably to open the mind; it makes it capable of af|faires, without the expectation of a tedious &s;ucce&s;&s;e, or length of ex|perience, and &s;pares a man that great expence of time, which would be nece&s;&s;ary of it &s;elf to arrive to wi&s;edome; And indeed, if com|mon &s;en&s;e, and meer Rea&s;on, ought to be highly e&s;teemed; I know not why any man &s;hould de&s;pi&s;e know|ledg, which is like &s;en&s;e collected from many heads, and as it were the Common Rea&s;on of many <HI>Sages.</HI> But here al&s;o we mu&s;t di|&s;tingui&s;h, and make a difference of Sciences. I intend not to blame good Literature; I only maintain that there is that is bad; which is nothing but the vain and idle amu&s;e|ments
<PB N="109" REF="95"> of the mind; The dreames and vi&s;ions of men awake; Labors that aime at nothing, nor bring any &s;trength or ornament to their Countrey. I laugh at tho&s;e <HI>Gno|&s;ticks,</HI> who are only cunning in tho&s;e things which never come into u&s;e, and are ignorant of nothing which is unprofitable: Who run day and night after the Quadrature of a <HI>Circle,</HI> and the perpetuall motion, without being able to attain one or other. I approve not of tho&s;e Do|ctors, who u&s;e their Learning no more then covetous men do their Riches; who are alwaies full, but never draw forth any thing; who &s;pend their life in the &s;earch of &s;ome words, and the under&s;tanding of a Language; who mi&s;take the <HI>Meanes</HI> for the <HI>End,</HI> and the Way for the Town. The&s;e men are ve|ry unfit for a civill life: So far are they from being good <HI>Princes,</HI> that they would not be &s;o much as tolerable <HI>Subjects.</HI> The&s;e are Mem|bers
<PB N="110" REF="96"> to be cut off from a commo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Society; The &s;uperfluities of a Common-wealth; and to u&s;e the ex|pre&s;&s;ion of an Ancient Greek, They are good for nothing but to people De&s;erts and Solitudes. We reject not Science ab&s;olutely, but we reject theirs. We condemn not tho&s;e Orators who per&s;wade Truth, and beget a Love of vertue in the hearts of men (and it may be they will one day believe that we have &s;ome intere&s;t to defend them) but we condemn tho&s;e importunate ones, who&s;e di&s;cour&s;es are nothing but noi&s;es and &s;ounds which beat the aire, and pa&s;&s;e no further the<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the eare; and vent for Eloquence a facility to &s;peak ill; who deliver fooleries wi&s;ely, and pronounce e|vill things with a good grace. We expell not from the State, the &s;tu|dy of wi&s;edome, but we e&s;pecially admit into the Pallace two parts of it, whereof one regulates man as he is a Creature indued with rea&s;on;
<PB N="111" REF="96"> The other guides him as he is borne for Society: The one hath for its end vertue, and a mans own good, The other the happine&s;&s;e and good of the Publick. To which <HI>Kings,</HI> me thinks, may add the reading of Hi&s;tory, which is a more popular Philo&s;ophie, and more delightfull then that which is gathered from the drine&s;&s;e of Precepts, among&s;t the thorns and briers of Di&s;putati|on. By it all the vertue of the Ancients is ours, and they have li|ved, to &s;peak truly, but onely to <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">tru&s;t us; nor did any good Acti|ons, but to leave us good examples. It gives a <HI>Prince</HI> the indu&s;trie of his Predece&s;&s;ors, to joyn to his own; It pre&s;ents him &s;incere coun&s;els, which are not &s;u&s;pected of flattery, nor proceed from pa&s;&s;ion, in which there enters no particular Intere&s;t. It &s;hews him the i&s;&s;ues whereby wi&s;e men have delivered them&s;elves out of the harde&s;t pa&s;&s;ages, and the way which they made when they
<PB N="112" REF="97"> found none. He that is not ac|quainted with this, and of all times knows only the pre&s;ent, is &s;urpris'd with the novelty of an Accident which he had not fore&s;een; he &s;uf|fers him&s;elf to be &s;haken with the fir&s;t bla&s;t of a contrary wind, and imagining that a misfortune mu&s;t la&s;t alwayes, hath never the courage to hope well.</P>
<P>On the other &s;ide, he that &s;eems to be of all Countreys, to have lived in all ages, to have bin pre&s;ent at all Coun&s;els and all publick A&s;&s;em|blies, draws thence powerfull helps to re&s;i&s;t adver&s;itie; at lea&s;t, he meets with nothing &s;trange and new; he expects good fortune after bad, and judgeth better of one acti|on by another. For in effect, it i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> not from the A&s;pect of Con&s;tellati|ons; from the flight and chatterin<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> of birds, nor from the heart and entrails of &s;lain bea&s;ts, that thi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> judgment is formed, but ordinarily from things pa&s;&s;'d, we learn what
<PB N="113" REF="97"> is to come. And though the affairs of the world many times change their Cour&s;e, taking another way then their ordinary Cu&s;tome, and that this only is likely, as <HI>Agathon</HI> &s;aid, that many things happen con|trary to appearance.</P>
<P>Yet to &s;peak ordinarily, like en|terpri&s;es produce like effects; and though the Actors be divers, 'tis the &s;ame <HI>Theater</HI> upon which they re|pre&s;ent, and the &s;ame Parts which they play.</P>
<P>There is no doubt, but &s;o profi|table a knowledge is very worthy the Curio&s;ity of great men, where|of they make u&s;e upon divers occa|&s;ions. With this kind of learning, the King is alwayes plea&s;ed to enter|tain him&s;elf: He hath alwayes ta|ken delight to hear the relation of pa&s;&s;'d actions; and not to &s;eek for more particular proofs of what I &s;ay; the wonders we have received from him, are &s;ufficient to make us &s;ee, that he takes not his Examples
<PB N="114" REF="98"> from among us, nor are they the men of our times whereof he is jea|lous.</P>
<P>Moreover, his private life is &s;o free from blame, nay even from &s;u&s;picion; his publick carriage &s;o full of di&s;cretion and lawfull arts; all his actions &s;o conformable to the Rules, which the <HI>Ma&s;ters</HI> of <HI>Man|ners,</HI> and the <HI>Doctors</HI> of the <HI>State</HI> have left us, that if he had not learnt <HI>Morality</HI> and the <HI>Politiques,</HI> they would have bin naturall to him, and he had received a Soul from God fully in&s;tructed and intelligent.</P>
<P>For other barren &s;tudies, and of no u&s;e, which require a violent In|tention, and a &s;ervile a&s;&s;iduitie, which have need of a mans whole lei&s;ure and of every minute of a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> houre, they may in my opinion be profitably neglected by a man of his Condition, and are &s;carce com|patible with the offices of <HI>Royalty,</HI> which require the whole entire <HI>Man;</HI> and &s;o, that in matter of
<PB N="115" REF="98"> Government, there is &s;carce day and night enough for the nece&s;&s;ary la|bour; and there will need &s;ome time to refre&s;h him&s;elf, which will hard|ly be found out. There are more bu&s;ine&s;&s;es then moments; The &s;low|e&s;t Death &s;urpri&s;es <HI>Princes</HI> alwayes, and leaves their works imperfect; Few of the&s;e <HI>Arti&s;ts</HI> fini&s;h their bu|&s;ine&s;&s;e in this world.</P>
<P>The <HI>King</HI> therefore, that would come to the end of what he under|takes, doth not amu&s;e him&s;elf with any thing el&s;e; He thinks of nothing but his Charge, and his Duty; and the order which hath bin e&s;tabli&s;hed from the fir&s;t con&s;titution of things being not to be reformed; he pro|longs by art, a life of it &s;elf very &s;hort: He &s;pares all tho&s;e houres, which are wont to be imployed in evill and &s;uperfluous occa&s;ions, and gains that from his diligence, which he cannot obtain from the <HI>Liberali|ty</HI> of <HI>Nature.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="14" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="116" REF="99">
<HEAD>CHAP. XIV.</HEAD>
<P>IT is now ten years that he wat|cheth continually, that he is, as it were, alwayes on hor&s;eback; that he runs whither&s;oever the publick nece&s;&s;ity cals him.</P>
<P>And fora&s;much as he knows very well, that <HI>Kings</HI> and <HI>Kingdomes</HI> cannot injoy one and the &s;ame re&s;t, he is content, that the troubles and dangers be for him&s;elf, the peace and &s;ecurity for <HI>France.</HI> His white hairs are come upon him from noble and glorious cares, which have pro|duced the tranquility of the peo|ple.</P>
<P>It rains and &s;nows all the winter upon the fir&s;t head of the world; It the mo&s;t violent heats of Summer, when we make u&s;e of all means, we can imagine, to procure &s;hade and coolne&s;&s;e, his <HI>Countenance</HI> is &s;corch|ed with the Sun of <HI>Languedoc,</HI> and it is commonly in the open field, and
<PB N="117" REF="99"> ten dayes journey from the <HI>Louvire,</HI> that he &s;uffers the injuries of the weather, and the inconveniencies of the &s;ea&s;on.</P>
<P>Some of his Predece&s;&s;ors had more adoe to move them&s;elves, and to pa&s;&s;e from their Chamber to their Clo&s;et, then he to go from one end of the Kingdome to the o|ther. He makes his Galleries and his Walkes from <HI>Paris</HI> to <HI>Guyenna,</HI> or the <HI>Dauphine:</HI> and there is not any part of the State afflicted, be it never &s;o remote, which having di&s;|covered its wounds and made him acquainted with its di&s;tre&s;&s;e, doth not pre&s;ently feel the comfort which his <HI>Pre&s;ence</HI> brings where e|ver it &s;hews it &s;elf.</P>
<P>For this end, <HI>Nature</HI> hath given him a Body which doth not at all oppre&s;&s;e his mind; &amp; being extream|ly active and vigorous, finds not much difficulty to follow the mo|tions of his courage.</P>
<P>The continuall Agitation in
<PB N="118" REF="100"> which he hath been bred, will not &s;uffer tho&s;e heaps of humours to grow together, and that exce&s;&s;e of &s;uperfluous fle&s;h, which idlene&s;&s;e in|gendereth, and which oftentimes is a burthen to the &s;oule; be&s;ides that, he is not pe&s;tered with that long e|quipage of Debauchery, which the Voluptuous leade after them, not makes warr after the manner of the <HI>Princes</HI> of <HI>A&s;ia:</HI> There are no Troops of women and <HI>Eunuches,</HI> and another Army of u&s;ele&s;&s;e per|&s;ons; that follow his.</P>
<P>He needs not an incredible num|ber of Waggons to carrie Lutes, Viols, Looking-Gla&s;&s;es, and Per|fumes, as <HI>Mark-Anthony</HI> was fain to have, when he marched with <HI>Cleopatra:</HI> The fir&s;t plea&s;ant ob|ject that he meets with in the way, doth not oblige him to &s;tand &s;till; nor doth he encamp at the &s;ide of plea&s;ant Rivers, in&s;teed of pa&s;&s;ing over them, nor &s;et up his Tents in delightfull Vallyes, when he is to
<PB N="119" REF="100"> pa&s;&s;e the Mountains. He is free from tho&s;e hinderances which effe|minate Men either make or find, and which are the cau&s;e of a no|table lo&s;&s;e of time, which to a <HI>Prince</HI> ought to be the mo&s;t preci|ous thing in the world, and of which he may be covetous without loo&s;ing the Title of Liberall. If the <HI>King</HI> did not know how to u&s;e it with much Oeconomie, and were not an excellent Steward of &s;o frail a good, and of &s;o had a Guard, he had not, as he hath done, in le&s;&s;e then &s;ix years, begun, pur&s;ued and ended a labour which in all ap|pearance might have bin the excer|ci&s;e of his &s;ucce&s;&s;ors, and have continued to his Po&s;teritie. He had not bin <HI>Ma&s;ter</HI> at home, and Judge among&s;t his Neighbours, nor had he quenched, as he hath, Rebellion; di&s;armed Error, upheld weakne&s;&s;e, aba&s;ed Tyranny. A <HI>Prince</HI> indiffe|renly diligent, had bin yet but the halfe way of &s;o painfull a journey,
<PB N="120" REF="101"> and under another <HI>King</HI> then ours, we &s;hould yet make prayers to ar|rive at that Haven, in which now we give thanks for our &s;afety. Let us not &s;peak &s;lenderly of the pro&s;pe|rity of our affaires; Let us not con+tradict the publick voice; Let us not weaken Truth by malicious ex|ceptions, and conditionall prai&s;es. Let us avow upon all occa&s;ions, the obligation we have to the <HI>King,</HI> if we cannot acknowledg them. Never was there &s;een &s;o great a di&s;|po&s;ition to happine&s;&s;e, as the <HI>Poli|ticians</HI> &s;eek for; Never were fu|ture promi&s;es &s;o faire: We no more feare the ruine of our State; we hope for Eternity. All the pieces of this proud <HI>Lump,</HI> which hath tottered &s;o long, are now firm; all is inclo&s;ed with an admira|ble evenne&s;&s;e; not one &s;tone jets out beyond its line and levell; Nothing offends the eies of the mo&s;t curi|ous: See here the fir&s;t time that detraction &s;hall be mute. There
<PB N="121" REF="101"> are no more faults to di&s;cover, there are &s;carce any more wi&s;hes to be ac|compli&s;hed. Certainly I &s;u&s;pect my eyes, and can hardly believe my &s;elf, when I con&s;ider the pre&s;ent, and remember what is pa&s;t. This is not <HI>France,</HI> lately &s;o torne, &s;o &s;ick, &s;o ruinous; The&s;e are no lon|ger <HI>French-men,</HI> &s;uch enemies to their Countrey, &s;o backward in the &s;ervice of their <HI>Prince,</HI> &s;o decryde among forraign Nations. Under the &s;ame vi&s;ages I behold other Men, and in the &s;ame Kingdome an|other State; The ancient &s;hape re|maines, but the in&s;ide is renewed. There is a Morall revolution, a change of the mind, a &s;weet and plea&s;ant tran&s;ition from bad to good.</P>
<P>The <HI>King</HI> hath put his Subjects in reputation, hath communicated his &s;trength and vigor to the Re|publick, hath corrected the faults of the pa&s;&s;'d age, hath bani&s;hed all &s;oftne&s;&s;e, and ra&s;hne&s;&s;e in the ad|mini&s;tration
<PB N="122" REF="102"> of affaires. He is the Wi&s;e, no le&s;&s;e then the Ju&s;t, and he neither deceives him&s;elf nor others; He is not infected with the pre&s;ent corruption, nor, as it were, with no humane infirmitie. He is able to &s;tay a State from the point of fal|ling; To repair ruines which length of time hath contracted; To re|e&s;tabli&s;h things &s;poiled: He is able, if we may &s;o &s;ay, to make Young the Univer&s;e; and if this perfect Government, whereof we have yet &s;een but the picture, do at la&s;t &s;hoot forth and appear to the world it will owe its birth, with|out doubt, to his incomparable wi&s;edome.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="15" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XV.</HEAD>
<P>THere was a time when we were glad to flatter our &s;elves, and corrupt the Faith of our Hi&s;torie; hitherto we have ow'd our pre&s;ervation to any thing, rather
<PB N="123" REF="102"> then to our &s;elves; and if &s;ince the birth of the State, we except onely the life of two <HI>Princes,</HI> and &s;ome few years of &s;ome others; it may be &s;aid, that Fortune had the &s;upream Government among&s;t us, and that in the conduct of our affaires, &s;he left very little part, either to Sen&s;e or Rea&s;on. Our Lightne&s;&s;e, our Incon&s;tancy; our Folly is turned to a Proverb. They &s;ay <HI>France</HI> was a Ship, who&s;e Pilot was the Tem|pe&s;t. Our Fathers managed their Wars without Di&s;cipline, their negotiations without &s;ecrecy: Their fa&s;hion to act, was as much without rule, as if they had had a de&s;igne to loo&s;e in all Treaties; and their valour &s;o hardy, as if they had fought blind-fold. Therefore they bequeathed us that which they had governed ill, and their e&s;tate came to us in this confu&s;ion and di&s;order. All <HI>Maximes,</HI> generally received for true, have been found fal&s;e, in what concerns us: All the &s;ignes
<PB N="124" REF="103"> of a certain death have been in vain, when they have appeared upon us. Al forraign wi&s;edome hath been de|ceived in the judgement which it made concerning the continuance of our Monarchie.</P>
<P>After the impri&s;onment of <HI>John</HI> and <HI>Francis,</HI> which were to both the fruit of their own imprudence, there were all the appearances in the world, that the Kingdome would change its Ma&s;ter, and would be no longer but a Province of our enemies: Yet behold it &s;till under the power of the lawfull Heire of tho&s;e brave Pri&s;oners. The Kings of <HI>England,</HI> who have raigned, and were crowned at <HI>Pa|ris</HI> had lately but one Emba&s;&s;ador here, and now have none at all. There remaines nothing to them of all the conque&s;ts they have made, but a u&s;ele&s;&s;e name, which we leave to them to adorne their Titles, and to comfort them for their lo&s;&s;es. And after &s;o many Battles gained,
<PB N="125" REF="103"> I know not what made them flie, and cha&s;ed them out of a Countrey, where they believed them&s;elves at home, and where there were not a|bove three or four Towns that were <HI>French.</HI></P>
<P><HI>Spaine</HI> having had, as it were, the &s;ame advantages, &s;ees its &s;elf de|ceiv'd by the &s;ame event. We o|pen'd them all our Gates, we recei|ved their Garri&s;ons into our Cities, their Mini&s;ters into our Coun&s;el; The mo&s;t part of our people, if they had been borne at <HI>Madrid,</HI> or at <HI>Toledo,</HI> could not have been better <HI>Spaniards</HI> then they were; and the whole Nation ran in Troops hood|winckt to bondage: yet the&s;e di&s;po|&s;itions to a change, and the&s;e advan|ces of a Victory, were of no u&s;e to <HI>Philip,</HI> nor his <HI>Infanta;</HI> We have not been able to lo&s;e, that which we have given: We could not fall under a forraign power, though ruine were our own de&s;ign. The chaines which we demanded were
<PB N="126" REF="104"> demanded were denied us, and our Countrey remained to us, after we had delivered it to our enemy.</P>
<P>In other places, there needs only a Civil Warr to break a State in pieces, and to aboli&s;h Monarchie; But what have we &s;een but Civil Warrs &s;ince the death of <HI>Henry</HI> the Second? Nay, have they not been &s;o frequent, that for a long time we may count the yeares by the Trea|ties of Peace which have bin made? Our Kings &s;igned the Arre&s;ts of their death, or at lea&s;t of their Depo&s;ing, when they &s;igned the League, and when of two Factions, that rent the Kingdome, they de|livered their Arms and Authority to one, that &s;o they might be un|arm'd and naked again&s;t the enter|pri&s;es of both: If they had bin go|verned by rea&s;on, they had never committed &s;uch a fault; And if there had bin any Prudence in tho&s;e times, there had bin neither League nor <HI>Hugonotes.</HI> This la&s;t party,
<PB N="127" REF="104"> which was to be &s;tifled in the cradle, when it was but half formed, and the weake&s;t hands might have &s;poil'd it, increas'd &s;o by the indul|gency of the <HI>Soveraign,</HI> and took its fir&s;t vigor from the contempt which Men had of its weakne&s;&s;e; and at length a&s;cended to &s;o prodi|gious a greatne&s;&s;e, that it hath often ballanced the Royall Forces, till it fell out, that its ruine was the <HI>Ma|&s;ter-piece</HI> of <HI>Lewis</HI> the <HI>Ju&s;t.</HI></P>
<P>But before this Generous <HI>Prince</HI> was come into the world, to accom|pli&s;h our &s;afety, and to &s;top things at the very point where they ought to &s;tand, how many times have the&s;e two potent Factions fail'd of their blow? How little was wan|ting, but that we had &s;een a Repub|lick of <HI>Languedoc?</HI> And that it had not bin the States of <HI>Guyenna?</HI> That there had not bin made Dukes of <HI>Burgundy</HI> and Counts of <HI>Provence?</HI> And who could a&s;&s;ure our Fathers, but Rebellion expected
<PB N="128" REF="105"> to make its la&s;t and utmo&s;t a&s;&s;aults again&s;t him, who was only able to de&s;troy them?</P>
<P>We have alwayes bin the work men and the Engineers of our own misfortune: Our Enemies have built their Bulwarks, and rai&s;ed their Forts under the &s;hadow of our <HI>Peace</HI> and <HI>Treaties;</HI> They have grown great, and maintained them|&s;elves under our protection: They have grown warm, and bin nouri&s;h|ed in our bo&s;ome: The weakne&s;&s;e and Cowardline&s;&s;e of the <HI>Ma&s;ters,</HI> hath bin the cau&s;e of the boldne&s;&s;e and undertakings of the Servants. All the State re&s;ented the victories and the lazine&s;&s;e of the <HI>Cabinet;</HI> From the contempt which the <HI>Prince</HI> made of his charge, &s;pring that which others made of his Au|thority: He had bin obeyed, if he had known how to rule.</P>
<P>Among&s;t us, neither the puni&s;h|ment, nor the reward have &s;carce e|ver bin known. The Great ones
<PB N="129" REF="105"> have alwayes freely injured the &s;mall: The weak have alwayes bin the &s;poile and prey of the &s;tronger; Men have alwayes trod upon tho&s;e who have thrown them&s;elves down: Good men have alwayes bin di&s;pi&s;ed, becau&s;e none have ta|ken pains to pre&s;erve them, nor had any fear to de&s;troy them.</P>
<P><HI>Ari&s;tophon</HI> brag'd at <HI>Athens,</HI> that he had bin accu&s;ed &s;eventy five times, and had &s;o many times cor|rupted the Judges: Here wicked men have thriven mo&s;t pro&s;pe|rou&s;ly: They have not only injoy'd Impunity, They have had rewards be&s;towed upon them: They have bin &s;ought after with great care, and handled with all kind of fa|vour: They have alwaies got by the practice of wickedne&s;&s;e, and have profited by their faults; Tho&s;e that de&s;erved the &s;evere&s;t puni&s;hment, have had the free&s;t payment; and we have &s;een an old &s;inner, who &s;hewed three hou&s;es which he had
<PB N="130" REF="106"> got by the money which the <HI>King</HI> had given him, for having bin in three Con&s;piracies again&s;t his &s;er|vice; &s;o that neither he, nor his companions, had any need to re|pent of &s;o good a Crime, nor con|fe&s;&s;e Rebellion to be a wicked en|terpri&s;e, &s;ince they got &s;uch notable commodities thereby, and it was &s;o liberally rewarded.</P>
<P>This was not to raign; this was not to overcome; That which was done in tho&s;e dayes, was not to tri|umph, it was to live only, and to pa&s;&s;e on from one day to another. The &s;tate of affairs, was neither Warr nor Peace, nor a Truce; it was a re&s;t of &s;lumber, which was artifi|cially procur'd to the people; and the &s;leep of Criminals and of be|&s;ieged per&s;ons, is not more di&s;turb'd, nor more unquiet, then this de|ceitfull tranquilitie. They knew not how to heale, they could only skin over the wound, and &s;et a good face on the matter.</P>
<PB N="131" REF="106">
<P>Tho&s;e that governed, would make Rebellion familiar in care&s;|&s;ing it; they cloy'd it with good turns and gratuities, but there|by they made it more potent, and not better; they augmented its &s;trength, and did not dimini&s;h its malice; &s;ometimes they deprived it of &s;ome men who were to be &s;old, and of &s;ome advantages which it made no u&s;e of; and knew not that it was to prune di&s;order, thus gent|ly to touch its branches and its &s;lips, and not to lay the Axe to its Trunck and root.</P>
<P>All high enterpri&s;es made them afraid; all great things appeared to them mon&s;trous; whatever was not ea&s;ie, they cal'd it impo&s;&s;ible. Fear made the objects &s;eem bigger, and multiplying every individuall almo&s;t to an infinity, when three <HI>Male-contents</HI> retir'd from Court with their Train, they apprehended an Army of Rebels in the field, which drew the City and the Com|monalty
<PB N="132" REF="107"> after them, without finding any re&s;i&s;tance: Whereupon, they put not them&s;elves in a po&s;ture to cha&s;ti&s;e them, but u&s;ed means to &s;ooth them, and in&s;tead of going to vi&s;ite them with Cannons and Souldiers, they &s;ent them Lawyers with offers and Conditions, and promi&s;ed them much more then they could hope for from their victorie.</P>
<P>Thus the goodne&s;&s;e of the <HI>Prince</HI> was a certain Income and Revenue to wicked men; He &s;queezed his own Coffers to give pay to the Ar|mies of his <HI>Enemies,</HI> and every day paid for &s;omething which he never got. At the lea&s;t Rumor he de|&s;cended from his <HI>Throne,</HI> to treat with his Subjects; of a Soveraign he made him&s;elf a private per&s;on, and of a Law-Giver, became an Advocate.</P>
<P>By this breach, the partition, which &s;eparated him from the peo|ple, was broken down, and the
<PB N="133" REF="107"> Power changed into an Equalitie: The Guiltie &s;ate upon the Tribunall, and deliberated of their own fact with their Judge: They named the place of Conference, and it was ac|cepted of: They cho&s;e to conferr with Per&s;ons in whom they mo&s;t confided, and tho&s;e were given them that they liked be&s;t of. There was not a word of Grace or Pardon; Tho&s;e tearms were too rude, and had injur'd their ears: But the of|fended <HI>Ma&s;ter</HI> declared &s;olemnly, that all was done for the good of his Service, and acknowledg'd him|&s;elf extreamly beholding to his un|faithfull &s;ervants, for the affronts he had received from them.</P>
<P>La&s;tly, the de&s;ign of the <HI>Cabinet</HI> being but to &s;eperate the Allies, and to turn a&s;ide the pre&s;ent &s;torm, they granted them more then they could ask; They were prodigall of the Publick faith. The Name of <HI>King</HI> was not at all mentioned to be pro|vided for.</P>
<PB N="134" REF="108">
<P>And thus he found him&s;elf the point of two extreams equa<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> dangerous; for whether he wo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> keep his word and ruine his affai<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> or recover his affairs in violati<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> his word, he was alwayes reduc<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> to a deplorable Election, either <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> hazard his e&s;tate in being faithf<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> or to be injurious to his honour, remain <HI>King.</HI></P>
<P>The&s;e di&s;orders and &s;uch like would they not have de&s;troy <HI>France?</HI> And have not many Stat<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> bin ruin'd with le&s;&s;e then this Therefore it hath given the lye t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> all Diviners; It hath confuted al<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Polititians: It hath put exceptio<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> to all the generall rules; And <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> would not be &s;o great a wonder that a Body, who&s;e Temperatu<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> was ill and the con&s;titution out o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> order, was now come to an extrea<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> old age, by wounds, exce&s;&s;e and debaucheries; as to con&s;ider <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 word"> hundred years, that this State hath
<PB N="135" REF="108"> continued again&s;t all humane ap|pearances.</P>
<P>It is an old deboi&s;t Body, that hath done what it could to dye, and yet lives in &s;pight of the Phy&s;itians. Fortune hath corrected all the de|faults of our Government: Chance hath &s;aved; us or to &s;peak of our happine&s;&s;e more Chri&s;tianly, and to leave the termes of corrupt u&s;e, which &s;avour yet of <HI>Pagani&s;me;</HI> God hath taken a particular care of de&s;olate for&s;aken <HI>France,</HI> and was willing to be her <HI>Helper</HI> in the Con|fu&s;ion of her affaires.</P>
<P>His <HI>Providence</HI> hath alwayes fought again&s;t the imprudence of men; Heaven hath wrought as ma|ny miracles, as they committed faults: yet we mu&s;t not love dan|ger, nor per&s;evere in wickedne&s;&s;e, in hope of a miraculous &s;uccour. We mu&s;t not &s;ay, that God is obliged by oath, to make all our falls pro&s;pe|rous, nor that he will ble&s;&s;e all our Follies, nor that he will trouble
<PB N="136" REF="109"> him&s;elf to give good &s;ucce&s;&s;es to all our evill Coun&s;els. At la&s;t, he permits effects to follow their Cau&s;es, and that That which hath a long time troubled the order of the world, and violated the univer&s;all Law, do enter into its ordinary cour&s;e, whence it hath proceeded, and obey that common nece&s;&s;itie which he hath impo&s;ed upon the Actions of his Creatures.</P>
<P>But in the condition we are now in, the &s;torm will take us in a good houre; we can let pa&s;&s;e this extra|ordinary a&s;&s;i&s;tance, which we can|not alwayes promi&s;e our &s;elves: we will no more tempt God by a ra&s;h confidence, nor &s;leep in danger, ex|pecting &s;upports from Heaven; and now, that there is no more attone|ment for our faults, we have no|thing to fear, being a&s;&s;ured not to fail any more. Yet it hath not bin inconvenient, that things did not arrive all at once to their highe&s;t pitch; It was nece&s;&s;ary to come by
<PB N="137" REF="109"> many degrees to <HI>Lewis the Ju&s;t:</HI> To this <HI>Prince,</HI> who po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ing rea|&s;on in a tran&s;cendent degree, ought to raign by right of nature, accor|ding to the opinion of <HI>Ari&s;totle,</HI> when he did not raign by <HI>Divine Right,</HI> according to the Principles of our Faith.</P>
<P>It was rea&s;onable, we &s;hould more then once ask Heaven for &s;o nece&s;&s;a|ry a <HI>Reformer;</HI> who by a Direction full of force, hath turned the affairs from that evill cour&s;e they had ta|ken, and conquered that long cu|&s;tome we had of di&s;order; who hath carried the Regall Authoritie as high as it could go, without <HI>Ty|ranny;</HI> who hath both puni&s;hed and rewarded with exqui&s;ite choi&s;e and di&s;cretion, that &s;o he might avoid Cruelty, and not fall into weak|ne&s;&s;e: Who hath brought Di&s;cipline to Warr, and &s;ecrecie to Coun&s;ell: Who hath reduc'd our faith and re|putation to a good &s;avour among other Nations, and hath made tho&s;e
<PB N="138" REF="110"> that re&s;i&s;ted our Forces, to render them&s;elves to his Sincerity: who hath changed tho&s;e petty-&s;lights which we made u&s;e of to catch the meane&s;t of the Subjects, into his great and couragious <HI>Maximes,</HI> which give Law to <HI>King</HI> and <HI>King|domes;</HI> who la&s;tly (which my par|ticular Intere&s;t renders more con&s;i|derable to me then all the re&s;t) came to fini&s;h upon the edge of the <HI>Ocean,</HI> a work, who&s;e only fa&s;hion and attempt made us fear; and knew to take his mea&s;ures &s;o ju&s;t, his Time &s;o proper to the de&s;ign he went about, that &s;ooner or latter, it had not bin po&s;&s;ible to have brought it to pa&s;&s;e.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="16" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XVI.</HEAD>
<P>IN this, the clearne&s;&s;e of his un|der&s;tanding hath chiefly appea|red: To do extraordinary things, it is not enough to know how to
<PB N="139" REF="110"> employ opportunities well, but al&s;o to know how to chu&s;e them. Civill Prudence, as well as Judiciary A&s;tro|logie, is acquainted with good and bad houres, according to which it either re&s;ts, or labours. All Actions of men have their &s;ea&s;ons; even the mo&s;t vertuous may be done un&s;ea&s;onably. And fora&s;much as that which is but an Accident to naturall, is E&s;&s;entiall to Morall things, there needs nothing but a light Circum&s;tance of time, or place, to &s;poyle a bu&s;ine&s;&s;e which in it &s;elfe was mo&s;t profitable and rea&s;onable. Sometimes to the ac|compli&s;hing of our de&s;igne, there needs nothing but that the wic|kedne&s;&s;e of our Enemies be at the full; That the bad influence which bare rule, beginning to be weakned, There is no more re&s;i&s;tance in re|&s;pect of heaven, and that the mo|ment be come in which it plea&s;|eth God to &s;uffer Men to be made. And as Travellers who ri&s;e at
<PB N="140" REF="111"> Moon-light, &s;uppo&s;ing that it is day, are con&s;trained to lye down a|gaine, or venture the danger of mi&s;&s;ing their way if they goe on in their journey: In like manner tho&s;e that follow the meer light of appearances, and who undertake things out of &s;ea&s;on, are in danger either to gain nothing, or el&s;e to be lo&s;t in their Enterpri&s;es.</P>
<P>Now if ever man knew to take the preci&s;e point of time, which is as hard to be met with as that ju&s;t degree of heat which <HI>Chymi&s;ts</HI> &s;eek for in the operation of their <HI>Secret,</HI> If every man were able to di&s;cern the houre of execution, and to make his Benefit of the Opportuni|ty, it mu&s;t be confe&s;&s;ed it is <HI>This Prince</HI> of whom I &s;peak.</P>
<P>A&s;&s;oon as ever this opportunity, which is &s;o nece&s;&s;ary in policy, be|gins to appear, and he perceives that his affairs are ripe, he will not &s;uffer the fruit to be &s;poil'd; He makes the lea&s;t moments available
<PB N="141" REF="111"> His <HI>Pre&s;ence</HI> gives heat to the bu&s;i|ne&s;&s;e; he animates the workmen by his very look, his voyce and incou|ragements.</P>
<P>You &s;ee with what Courage and Magnanimitie he performes bu&s;i|ne&s;&s;es, with what bravery he beares him&s;elf in danger: with what Confidence he con&s;iders Death, and prepares him&s;elf for all events; with what &s;everitie of Countenance he rejects fearfull Coun&s;ells, trem|bling and di&s;tru&s;tfull wi&s;dome. It is certain, that in the conduct of Affaires, Courage is no le&s;&s;e nece&s;|&s;ary to judgment to put it on, then judgment is nece&s;&s;ary to Spi|rit to hold it in. And as the Mind, all alone, commits many faults, and will unadvi&s;edly remove heaven and earth; &s;o judgment, all alone, is voyd of Action, and is the mo&s;t idle and barren part of a man. It hinders him from falling, but it is by coun&s;elling him to &s;it &s;till, and not goe at all: It makes a man a|voyd
<PB N="142" REF="112"> ill weather, but it is by cau|&s;ing him to keep his chamber: It &s;pends dayes and nights in medita|ting; and from the&s;e rea&s;onings proceed nothing but doubts and &s;u&s;picions, and a mi&s;erable unre&s;ol|vedne&s;&s;e, which is the Cau&s;e that he never undertakes any thing, be|cau&s;e he will enter upon nothing that is hazardous. Therfore it is, that Chance meets us every where, and there is no bu&s;ine&s;&s;e &s;o certain, over which Fortune hath not &s;ome right, and which is not &s;ubject at lea&s;t to an Inconvenience.</P>
<P>He that alwaies ob&s;erves the winds and the Clouds &s;hall not &s;ow, nor reape. The idle fellow be|cau&s;e he will not go, &s;ayth a Lyon is in the way, and a Lyone&s;&s;e not far off.</P>
<P>The <HI>King</HI> contrarily, when he hath laid his de&s;ign, troubles his mind no more with an impotunate rea&s;oning, nor enters into con&s;ide|rations which have no end: He
<PB N="143" REF="112"> leaves off to deliberate, when it is time to be doing; He doth not o|verthrow his fir&s;t opinions by &s;e|conds, nor tho&s;e by other new one. He is not troubled to combate him|&s;elf, when he is to go again&s;t his e|nemie: When he hath undertaken a journey, nothing is got by oppo|&s;ing him. He is as firme in his or|dinary re&s;olution, as men are in their ancient Habits: Ob&s;tacles which pre&s;ent them&s;elves do not &s;top him, provided that humane force can vanqui&s;h them: Even tho&s;e that come from a higher cau&s;e, from ab&s;olute nece&s;&s;ity, have much ado to give him check; and if he be con&s;trained &s;ometimes to yield to the violence of grief, and that he be acquainted with the in|firmitie of our condition, herein he is more tormented with his cou|rage, then with his pain. In the ex|treamity of a burning Feaver, he complains only of the daies and oc|ca&s;ions which he lo&s;eth; he is trou|bled
<PB N="144" REF="113"> at nothing, but the going back of his affaires. He will part with all his good intervals to it, in&s;tead of tarrying for the effect of reme|dies, and the recovery of his health: he employes the &s;tops of his di&s;ea&s;e to be convey'd to his Army; he leaves him&s;elf to be cured in the Warr; and with a Body, which hath but half its &s;trength, he laieth the foundation of the harde&s;t enter|pri&s;e of this our Age. Knowing very well, that the &s;ame advantages &s;eldome offer them&s;elves twice to the &s;ame per&s;on; he puts not off af|faires till to morrow, nor lo&s;es good &s;ucce&s;&s;e by delay: He never &s;aies ther's enough for this time, and we &s;hall fini&s;h the re&s;t at lei&s;ure. This is Gods proceeding, who is thus patient, becau&s;e he is Eternall, and lets wicked men alone &s;ome|times, becau&s;e he hath another world wherein to puni&s;h them. But we mu&s;t not propo&s;e an exam|ple to men, which they cannot fol|low;
<PB N="145" REF="113"> They do not make occa&s;ions, but receive them: They do not command the times; they po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e but a &s;mall part of them, only the pre&s;ent, which is a point almo&s;t imperceptible, oppos'd to that va&s;t extent of Eternity, which hath no bounds. To arrive at their butt, they mu&s;t go apa&s;e and beginn be|times. They mu&s;t make ha&s;t thorow &s;uddain and tran&s;itory things.</P>
<P>And that wi&s;e <HI>Prince,</HI> who be|&s;ides the knowledg which he might draw from his own experience and rea&s;on; was enlightned of God, &s;aid, &s;peaking of him&s;elf, that he &s;lew the wicked betimes in the morning; be|cau&s;e, as I conceive, he was not a&s;|&s;ur'd of the after-noon, and knew not if his good fortune would la&s;t &s;o long.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="17" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="146" REF="114">
<HEAD>CHAP. XVII.</HEAD>
<P>THe&s;e <HI>Maximes</HI> are nece&s;&s;ary in the height of a Tempe&s;t, and in the greate&s;t extreamities, but they may be made u&s;e of when we per|ceive any &s;ign of change, and the lea&s;t pre&s;age of a &s;torme. Neither doth the <HI>King</HI> throw him&s;elf ab&s;o|lutely upon the&s;e kinds of encoun|ters; though during the calme and in a full peace, he have &s;ome more mild and humane di&s;po&s;itions. Sometimes he &s;peedily oppo&s;eth force again&s;t prepared violence, and hath made light skirmi&s;hes to avoid greater combates. Perhaps he hath made <HI>France</HI> le&s;&s;e by two or three heads, whereof the pub|lique re&s;t had need, for its e&s;ta|bli&s;hment; and his Clemency hath not allwaies overcome his ju&s;tice. We remember what pa&s;t upon the <HI>Louver Bridge,</HI> at that fatall &s;ea&s;on, when he had &s;carce any bo|dy
<PB N="147" REF="114"> for him&s;elf, but him&s;elf, he was con&s;trained to call home to him|&s;elf the power to condemne which <HI>Princes</HI> have committed to others, and to re&s;ume that trouble&s;ome part of Regall Authoritie, which they di&s;charg'd upon the <HI>Parlia|ment.</HI> An unfortunate Stranger had &s;o confounded things, and min|gled his owne Intere&s;ts with tho&s;e of the State, that none but the <HI>King</HI> could &s;eparate them, and cleare the world of the truth of his &s;ervice: He re&s;olved therfore to declare him&s;elf, and to purge the Court of that &s;hamefull domi|nion which was e&s;tabli&s;hed upon the ruines of <HI>Maje&s;tie,</HI> and which he &s;eemed to approve by his pati|ence. He conceived, that day, the de&s;ign for the &s;afety of his State, and by the death of two Serpents, made us hope the ruine of that <HI>Hy|dra</HI> which we begin to &s;ee at his la&s;t ga&s;p. If he that was nam'd the mil|de&s;t and meeke&s;t man upon the
<PB N="148" REF="115"> earth, Divine <HI>Mo&s;es,</HI> being yet a private man, and having then no Authority, but only &s;eeing the af|fliction of his Brethren, believed he was obliged to &s;uccour them, and to begin the deliverance of his peo|ple, by the &s;laughter of an <HI>Egyptian,</HI> who &s;mote an <HI>I&s;raelite:</HI> With how much more rea&s;on might the <HI>King,</HI> to whom God hath given the &s;word, and who only hath right of life and death, make u&s;e of that right to puni&s;h a Tyrant, who op|pre&s;t his true and lawfull Subjects; who thir&s;ted after the bloud of his Princes; who held his Court in Cap|tivity, and in hope devoured his whole Kingdome? Yet Po&s;terity &s;hall &s;ee very few of the&s;e examples in his Story. He u&s;ed no &s;upream Authority, but again&s;t tho&s;e who would u&s;urp; it nor let fall any thunder-bolts, but upon tho&s;e that would &s;natch them out of his hands. He hath not con&s;ented to the pu|ni&s;hment of Criminalls, but when
<PB N="149" REF="115"> there was no other way left to put an end to their faults. He kills not, nor takes plea&s;ure to &s;ee per&s;ons put to death, not even the Com|mon-wealths Enemies; but he tries what he can to make them good Citizens, and good Subjects: At lea&s;t he provides that wicked men be not dangerous to the publick, and without depriving them of life, de|prives them of power and venome. His power is now &s;uch, that if three Mutinies joyn together again&s;t the State, he hath foure meanes to &s;cat|ter them; but his prudence is &s;uch on the other &s;ide, that they &s;eldome come thus far, nor have &s;carce lei|&s;ure to become altogether guilty: He &s;urpri&s;eth them between the thought, and the execution of a fault. They believe their contri|vance very &s;ecret, yet he knowes as much of their news, as if he had bin pre&s;ident at their Coun&s;el, They de|liberate how to ca&s;t them&s;elves into danger, and he hath already provi|ded
<PB N="150" REF="116"> for their &s;afety; They would lift their hand to &s;trike their blow, and they find it &s;eiz'd upon; They imagin pre&s;ently they &s;hall &s;hare the Kingdome, and they find them|&s;elves fa&s;t in a Chamber of the <HI>Ba|&s;tile.</HI> The <HI>King,</HI> who hardly pro|ceeds to violent remedies, makes u&s;e &s;ometimes of gentle pre&s;ervatives: He hath found that excellent Tem|per between puni&s;hment and impu|nity; He hath taken the mean be|tween Rigor and Indulgency; And to &s;ay truth, me thinks it is very rea|&s;onable to go before certain faults, which cannot be puni&s;hed after they are committed, and not to tar|ry to correct a mi&s;chief, when the guilty are become Ma&s;ters of their Judges.</P>
<P>It is true, that commonly out of a fooli&s;h pitty, &s;ingle men are fa|voured, who enterpri&s;e again&s;t their Princes, becau&s;e, in all cau&s;es, the more powerfull are accounted the mo&s;t outragious; and it is u&s;ually
<PB N="151" REF="116"> pre&s;um'd, that injury proceeds ra|ther from force, then weakne&s;&s;e. People will not believe that men have con&s;pired again&s;t <HI>Kings,</HI> till they &s;ee the Con&s;piracy brought to execution, and the Con&s;pirators dead: Yet I do not coun&s;el them to &s;uffer them&s;elves to be kil'd, to ju&s;tifie their di&s;tru&s;t; nor to fall into &s;nares that are lai'd for them, to &s;hew they doe not fear ami&s;&s;e: They may prevent danger, by the death of tho&s;e they do &s;u&s;pect; it is an excu&s;able &s;everity: But it is a goodne&s;&s;e which cannot be &s;uffici|ently prai&s;ed, and which is only pro|per for the <HI>King,</HI> to do the &s;ame thing, and not to make a per&s;on die.</P>
<P>Upon a bare &s;u&s;picion, a light &s;urmi&s;e, upon a dream which the <HI>Prince</HI> hath made, why &s;hall it not be permitted him to &s;ecure him&s;elf of his factious Subjects, and to com|fort his mind, in giving them re&s;t for their trouble? Why &s;hall not
<PB N="152" REF="117"> a faithfull &s;ervant &s;uffer with joy his detention, who giving place to a thing in conte&s;tation, &s;hall make his innocency more clearly appear, and convince the Calumnie of his Enemies, and pacifie the di&s;quiets of his <HI>Ma&s;ter?</HI></P>
<P>It is not much better to hinder Innocents from falling, then to be brought to this &s;ad nece&s;&s;ity of con|demning the guilty? To do thus, is it not to exerci&s;e acts of <HI>Mercy?</HI> Is it not, for the mo&s;t part, to pre&s;erve tho&s;e that would de&s;troy them|&s;elves? If this ea&s;ie means had bin alwayes u&s;ed, to divert misfortunes which threaten the State, the liber|ty of one particular had not often|times bin the ruine of a whole King|dome; If the Authors of our di&s;|orders had been opportunely &s;ei&s;ed upon, be&s;ides that &s;o the fir&s;t had bin &s;aved, they had &s;pared a great number of others lives, and all the blood which hath bin &s;hed during the&s;e Civill warrs: If the ill-winds
<PB N="153" REF="117"> had bin &s;hut up, the Sea had not ra|ged; If Kings had prudence enough, they would have nothing to do but Ju&s;tice.</P>
<P>I &s;peak of that punctuall and &s;crupulous Ju&s;tice, which will not remedy the Crimes which are rea|dy to be committed, becau&s;e they are not put into forme; which will &s;tay till the Rebels have ruined the State, that &s;o they may proceed a|gain&s;t them lawfully; which to ob|&s;erve &s;ome termes of a Law, will &s;uffer all Laws to peri&s;h: This ex|tream right, is an extream inju&s;tice, and it would be a &s;in again&s;t rea&s;on, not to &s;in herein again&s;t formes: If the vertues did not help one ano|ther, they would be imperfect and defective: <HI>Prudence</HI> mu&s;t ea&s;e Ju|&s;tice in many things, and that this, or that make &s;peed; he that goes too &s;low will never arrive; &s;he mu&s;t hinder tho&s;e mi&s;chiefs, who&s;e pu|ni&s;hment would be impo&s;&s;ible, or dangerous.</P>
<PB N="154" REF="118">
<P>Ju&s;tice is exerci&s;ed only upon the Actions of men, but <HI>Prudence</HI> hath a right over their thoughts, and &s;e|crete&s;t Intention; &s;he extends her &s;elf very farr before what is to come; &s;he re&s;pects the publick Inte|re&s;t; &s;he provides for the good of po&s;teritie; and to this end, &s;he is con&s;trained here and there, to make u&s;e of means which the Laws have not ordained, but which nece&s;&s;ity ju&s;tifieth, and which would not be good if they were not carried to a good end.</P>
<P>The Publick profit is many times rais'd out of particular mens lo&s;&s;es. The North wind purgeth the ayr, though it throw down trees, &amp; ruine hou&s;es. We recover life by ab&s;ti|nence, by grief, by the lo&s;&s;e of &s;ome one member, which we willingly part with to &s;ave the whole.</P>
<P>Though the <HI>King</HI> hath pre&s;erved the Dignity and reputation of the Crown, in tho&s;e conjunctures of time, when others would have
<PB N="155" REF="118"> thought it enough, not to have lo&s;t the State, though in the exteamity of evill, he would not, if it had bin po&s;&s;ible, make u&s;e of one Remedy which had bin unplea&s;ing; Though, in a word, he be infinitly &s;en&s;ible of the mi&s;ery and complaints of his people, yet he could not chu&s;e but make them grow lean in healing them, nor draw out of his own veins and &s;ub&s;tance, wherewith to procure their health.</P>
<P>But &s;hort pains are willingly to be indured, when they produce long pro&s;perities: We cannot with ho|nour de&s;ire to be di&s;charged of a burthen which we bear equally with our <HI>Ma&s;ter;</HI> and in an occa&s;ion where the <HI>Prince</HI> employs all his own, and &s;pares not his own per|&s;on; It is very ju&s;t, that Subjects &s;hould do &s;omething for their part, and that there &s;hould be none lazie or idle in his State, while he takes pains and endangers him&s;elf. The <HI>Romane Ladies</HI> once threw all their
<PB N="156" REF="119"> Jewels into a great pit, which ope|ned it &s;elf in the middle of the Ci|ty, imagining to &s;top it by that means: and <HI>Tho&s;e</HI> of <HI>Carthage,</HI> in an urgent nece&s;&s;ity, cut off their hair, and gave it to the publick, to make cords for Engines of Warr; and if this be &s;o, are not we very delicate to complain, and very un|ju&s;t to murmure?</P>
<P>Mu&s;t the <HI>French</HI> have more pa&s;|&s;ion for their &s;ilver, then the <HI>Ro|manes</HI> and <HI>Carthaginians</HI> had for their ornaments and beauty? And &s;hall we be afraid to become poor to &s;ave our Countrey, when women are content to be unhand&s;ome for this end?</P>
<P>We have this comfort at lea&s;t, that it is not the Ryot of our <HI>Prince</HI> that &s;pends our &s;weat and labour, and that the entertainment of his plea&s;ure co&s;ts no body any thing. The money which he draws from his Kingdome to rigg his Navie, and to maintain Armies, is not diverted
<PB N="157" REF="119"> to other u&s;es, nor employ'd to cele|brate <HI>Ma&s;ques</HI> and pre&s;ent <HI>Come|dies.</HI></P>
<P>He doth not as the Governours of <HI>Athens,</HI> who according to the Calculation of an ancient Author, &s;pent more to have <HI>Medea, Anti|gone,</HI> the <HI>Phaenicians,</HI> and the <HI>Bac|chantes</HI> acted, then to make a warr again&s;t the <HI>Per&s;ians,</HI> and defend the Empire of <HI>Greece.</HI> For &s;ome late years, expen&s;es have indeed bin ex|ceeding great, but they have bin ne|ce&s;&s;ary; The people hath paid much, but it hath bin their own ran&s;ome, and we cannot buy the liberty of our Countrey at too dear a price, nor the quietne&s;&s;e of our Po&s;terity, to whom we bequeath no &s;uch &s;ad imployment.</P>
<P>The <HI>King</HI> hath in a &s;mall time levied millions, but al&s;o in a &s;mall time he hath managed many warrs, he hath defeated many parties, he hath taken many Towns, he hath clean&s;ed many Provinces.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="18" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="158" REF="120">
<HEAD>CHAP. XVIII.</HEAD>
<P>ANd here I find my &s;elf, before I am aware, at the &s;ame place where I began; I am fallen into my fir&s;t di&s;cour&s;e I know not how. We mu&s;t not once more admire the diligence of the <HI>King,</HI> who to the greatne&s;&s;e of his Actions, hath ad|ded this grace, to do them &s;pee|dily.</P>
<P>Herein certainly appears &s;ome|thing more then humane; He u&s;es the highe&s;t and mo&s;t excellent waies of working; He &s;eems to act in an in&s;tant, and that already he retains &s;omething of a glorified body, to which agility is no le&s;&s;e proper then light: The quickne&s;&s;e of his Acti|ons troubles the &s;ight and the ima|gination of the beholders that con|&s;ider them: The I&s;&s;ue of one de|&s;ign is the pa&s;&s;age to another; The change of labour &s;erves him in&s;tead of repo&s;e; That which we think
<PB N="163" REF="120"> &s;hould be the end, is but a means to arrive thither.</P>
<P>Who would not believe, but he would refre&s;h him&s;elf after a &s;iege of fifteen moneths, and that his &s;pi|rit might be &s;atisfied with routing the <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> Army, and with the taking of <HI>Rochel?</HI> Had he not wherewith to entertain him&s;elf long enough with the Memory of two &s;uch famous actions; to be nou|ri&s;hed with fruits which were rea|dy to be gathered, and to injoy, at his ea&s;e, the reputation which he had gotten? Yet he had rather u&s;e the victory then injoy it; and deprive him&s;elf of the reward for doing well, rather then lo&s;e one occa&s;i|on of per&s;evering.</P>
<P>Behold him then, who is but half dry of the &s;weat of warr, who is yet covered with the du&s;t of <HI>Au|nix;</HI> who hath not fini&s;hed his complements to the Queens: See him, I &s;ay, who no &s;ooner return'd from <HI>Rochel,</HI> but he goes from <HI>Paris</HI>
<PB N="164" REF="121"> to put <HI>Italy</HI> into Liberty: Behold him who pre&s;&s;eth Fortune without giving her any re&s;t, who will not &s;uffer his pro&s;perity to langui&s;h, but pur&s;ues the favours of heaven, and forceth tho&s;e affairs by his courage, which he had formerly wearied by his patience. Without doubt, good &s;ucce&s;&s;es do not end with the Action that gives them birth, they conti|nue after they are brought to pa&s;&s;e; and leaving in the heart of <HI>Princes,</HI> a &s;purr to incite them, pu&s;heth them out of their Throne, a&s;&s;oon as they offer to &s;it down upon it.</P>
<P>The de&s;igns which have &s;ucceeded well, beget new thoughts in them to enterpri&s;e new things, and gives them the de&s;ire of a new reputati|on, as if the fir&s;t were already wholly &s;pent; And as the mo&s;t part of Lovers look not upon their <HI>Mi&s;tre&s;|&s;es</HI> when they are become their wives, &s;o they contemn their anti|ent glory, when it co&s;ts them no more pains to gain it.</P>
<PB N="165" REF="121">
<P>This pa&s;&s;ion in the &s;oule of the <HI>King,</HI> is nothing el&s;e but the Emu|lation of him&s;elf; a Jealou&s;ie of his own merit; An ob&s;tinacy alwayes to conquer him&s;elf; the hope of what is to come, continually com|bating the reputation already pa&s;s'd; and the envie of what he is about to undertake, that which he hath already undertaken.</P>
<P>He went down from the <HI>Alpes</HI> in the mid&s;t of winter, and by a memorable Battle, who&s;e particu|lars I re&s;erve for another place, ma|king &s;ure of a pa&s;&s;age which they would di&s;pute, and &s;natching the keys out of the hands of the <HI>Porters,</HI> he open'd the Pri&s;ons to a whole captive Nation, and made them that complain'd of Tyrants, know that their Deliverer was come.</P>
<P>At the noi&s;e of &s;o great a news, the <HI>Spaniards</HI> withdrew their Troops from <HI>Mountferrat,</HI> aban|doning the labour of many moneths, and lo&s;ing the glory of
<PB N="166" REF="122"> that Con&s;tancy, which their Flat|terers &s;o often oppo&s;e to our light|ne&s;s.</P>
<P>It is in vain that &s;o many prepa|ratives are made, and that they have travers'd &s;o much ground. The ex|pence of a long &s;iege remains u&s;e|le&s;&s;e: They fear more for <HI>Milan,</HI> then they hope for <HI>Cazal;</HI> and as there is nothing &s;o contagious, nor which runneth &s;o fa&s;t, as fear, the troubled imagination pre&s;enting the la&s;t evils fir&s;t, and the extreamity of things; They tremble already in the Ca&s;tles of <HI>Naples;</HI> and the Garri&s;on of <HI>Palermo</HI> finds not the narrow Sea large enough, which parteth <HI>Scicilie</HI> from <HI>Italy.</HI></P>
<P>The <HI>King,</HI> in the mean time, is content to rai&s;e the dejected &s;pirits, and to humble the proud; he will not be happy for him&s;elf, having fought only for his friends, nor make any profit from their warrs, his Ar|mies being not mercenary. He lets his pretences &s;leep for a while, and
<PB N="167" REF="122"> the rights of his Crown, which he will not mingle with their affairs, that the a&s;&s;i&s;tance which he gives them, may be of pure gratuity; and that there may &s;eem no neerer, or more particular Intere&s;t then that of their &s;afety, nor that he will make u&s;e of a le&s;&s;e enterpri&s;e to &s;pare a greater.</P>
<P>The <HI>Romans</HI> did not a&s;&s;i&s;t their Allies with the like freedome, nor like him embrace hone&s;t things, for the bare re&s;pect of hone&s;ty: Parti|cular private men were vertuous, but the Republick was unju&s;t. The Pro|fit which they contemned at home, was the end and &s;cope of their Con|&s;ultations in the <HI>Senate;</HI> and though they gave fair names to their enter|pri&s;es, and coloured them with a &s;eeming Genero&s;ity, yet they were full of Intere&s;ts, and went, if not altogether &s;traight on, yet &s;ome by-way to the advancement of their Empire.</P>
<P>In the cau&s;e of the people who
<PB N="168" REF="123"> called them, they had alwaies their de&s;ign apart; Almo&s;t all their u&s;ur|pations began by defending the good of another; and in &s;uccouring the weak again&s;t the &s;tronger, they gain'd one part of the land, and conquer'd the other.</P>
<P>The <HI>King</HI> doth not traffique thus with his courte&s;ies and benefits, and his valour is neither covetous nor ambitious; After the &s;ervice of God, and the generall good of Chri&s;tendome, which are his fir&s;t objects, he only labours for glory and reputation: He &s;eeks for no o|ther Recompence for what he doth, but the lu&s;tre which redounds from his action, and the good &s;avour it leaves behind; He was not invited to his neighbours, but by the only con&s;ideration of their need, and his own honour; nor carried his armes out of his Kingdome, but to make them know the difference of <HI>Princes,</HI> to their benefit; to receive with Authority the complaints of the af|flicted;
<PB N="169" REF="123"> to pre&s;erve right to tho&s;e that have it, and to do Ju&s;tice to all the world.</P>
<P>This is certainly to be called a <HI>King,</HI> and to hold the place of God upon earth; this is to exerci&s;e a healthfull power to all people, and which &s;uffers with all formes of Government; It is to embrace, with a common protection, that which is far off as well as that which is neer; It is to give, with an intent not to take: And ju&s;t as the <HI>Eagle</HI> in the <HI>Fable,</HI> carryed <HI>Ga|nymede</HI> into heaven, without either &s;cratching his skin, or tearing his garments; &s;o he makes &s;trangers perceive the happine&s;&s;e of his Em|pire, without offending That of their Liberty, nor touching any thing that is dear unto them. The <HI>Princes</HI> that live thus, are to be e|&s;teemed much more then Conque|rors, and tho&s;e that a&s;pire to <HI>Mo|narchie.</HI></P>
<P>The Havens which receive into
<PB N="170" REF="124"> their bo&s;ome, Ve&s;&s;els weather-bea|ten, and torn with Tempe&s;ts, are much richer ornaments to their Coa&s;ts, and fair pieces of the Uni|ver&s;e, then tho&s;e infamous Rocks, which the Mariners only look up|on trembling, and which would want a name did they not cau&s;e &s;hipwracks. There is much more plea&s;ure in looking upon the Sun all crowned with the glory of his beams, which brings us joy with light; then to behold a Comet with bloudy locks, which threatens a thou&s;and mi&s;chiefs: And if the other &s;uperiour Bodies had a will, and acted with rea&s;on, it would be certainly, for their favourable A&s;|pects that Men would prai&s;e them, and not for their Malignant Influ|ences.</P>
<P>The glory which is acquir'd in obliging the Publick, is the only glory which no man quarrels; be|cau&s;e every one partakes of it: and the honor of one Man is the felici|ty
<PB N="171" REF="124"> of the whole world. Thus Peo|ple touched with &s;o lawfull a re|&s;entment, have heretofore placed their Benefactors in the number of their Gods, and have adored that valour which was profitable to them. Tho&s;e who had cru&s;ht a Serpent of an extraordinary great|ne&s;&s;e, or &s;lain a Boare which made havock of all about the City, re|ceived religious duties of acknow|ledgment from their Citizens; and to be a <HI>Heros,</HI> it &s;uffic'd to clean&s;e the Countrey of &s;ome <HI>Mon&s;ter.</HI> Now I pray you, was there ever a more cruel and more formidable one, then the Tyranny which at this day would &s;wallow up all the Chri|&s;tian Republick, and which is not &s;atisfied, for this hundred and fifty years, or there abouts, &s;ince &s;he de|voures States and Kingdomes?</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="19" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="172" REF="125">
<HEAD>CHAP. XIX.</HEAD>
<P>VVE do not accu&s;e herein the Bloud of <HI>Au&s;tria,</HI> nor the particular Actions of any of its <HI>Princes:</HI> They are all extreamly well borne; They all bring into the world great &s;eeds of vertue, which they husband with as great care, Goodne&s;&s;e, Courage, Wi&s;edome, are the true marks of this Race, and incomparably fairer then the figure of a Sword upon the right Arme, or the impre&s;&s;ion of a Lance upon the Thigh: There never were more Royall, or more Noble Soules. There cannot be found better, nor &s;weeter di&s;po&s;itions then theirs: and the Evil which I mean, is of their Fortune, and not of their Per&s;on. Be&s;ides, that <HI>I</HI> make profe&s;&s;ion to reverence in generall all higher powers, I know what re&s;pect is due to a hou&s;e whereof the Emperour is but a younger Brother, and
<PB N="173" REF="125"> <HI>Spaine</HI> one branch. I am not igno|rant of the Sanctity of our Alli|ances: I &s;ee very well from whence our good <HI>Queene</HI> is de&s;cended; But I believe &s;he will not take that ill, which the nece&s;&s;ity of my di&s;cour&s;e exacts from me, and which I am con&s;trained to &s;peak of; the ambiti|on of a People which now is no|thing to her. &s;he hath not &s;o much pa&s;&s;ion for the <HI>Kingdome</HI> where &s;he was borne, as for that where &s;he commands; and if it be true ac|cording to the <HI>Maximes</HI> of the <HI>Civilians,</HI> that wives are the end of the families from whence they come, and the beginning of tho&s;e whither they enter; The name which that wi&s;e and generous <HI>Prin|ce&s;&s;e</HI> beares, though mo&s;t Augu&s;t and Glorious, but yet which cannot pa&s;&s;e from her to another, cannot be &s;o dear to her as the hope of that faire po&s;terity which &s;he pro|mi&s;eth to this Crown. The Inte|re&s;ts which &s;he hath long &s;ince
<PB N="174" REF="126"> quited, cannot now divide her af|fections, nor trouble her mind; And that which &s;he hath received from <HI>Spain,</HI> is not, I a&s;&s;ure my &s;elf, of &s;uch con&s;ideration with her, as that which &s;he would give to <HI>France.</HI> We &s;eriou&s;ly honor, and with a particular devotion, tho&s;e per&s;ons which belong unto her: They are doubly &s;acred, both by their Chara|cter and by their proximity. But truly the de&s;ign of the Univer&s;all <HI>Monarchie,</HI> which was conceived under King <HI>Ferdinand,</HI> di&s;clo&s;ed un|der the Emperour <HI>Charles,</HI> and which the Coun&s;el of <HI>Spain</HI> hath alwaies nouri&s;hed ever &s;ince that time; cannot be con&s;idered with|out horror and indignation, by any man that loves his Countrey.</P>
<P>I intend only to balme that Coun&s;el, of which they are wont to &s;ay, Their <HI>Princes</HI> are <HI>Mortall,</HI> but their Coun&s;el is <HI>Eternall:</HI> This Coun&s;el which the <HI>Kings</HI> do find, and not make; which they receive
<PB N="175" REF="126"> from Fathers to Son, which they dare no more meddle with then the Foundations of their State, and which exerci&s;eth in &s;ome &s;ort a So|veraignty di&s;tinct from theirs; which they &s;uffer out of a meer re|verence to cu&s;tome. I blame there|fore this Coun&s;el which followes &s;uch dangerous <HI>Maximes,</HI> and not tho&s;e who have only right intenti|ons. I accu&s;e that Coun&s;el which fights again&s;t the good nature of the <HI>Prince,</HI> which will command its own Ma&s;ter; and this is the <HI>Mon|&s;ter</HI> whereof I &s;peak.</P>
<P>See, if you plea&s;e, with what ar|dor he throws him&s;elf upon the prey; and how he forces him&s;elf to teare in pieces the Noble&s;t parts of <HI>Europe. Italie</HI> bleeds in divers places with the &s;cratches which it hath received thence: She is not free from his &s;troaks but in one lit|tle corner of firme earth; and all that is &s;ound on that &s;ide is &s;o hea|vy with old age, that it can hardly
<PB N="176" REF="127"> move to defend the re&s;idue of what is left.</P>
<P>There remaines nothing entire, nor cogno&s;cible in <HI>Germany,</HI> but the Sea and the Mountaines, becau&s;e he could not change the face of nature; It is not any more that Province, &s;o free and &s;o powerfull as heretofore: He hath made it groan under the irons and burdens wherewith he hath charg'd it; He hath broken all their priviledges; He hath vio|lated all their immunities; He hath oppre&s;&s;ed them by meer force; They are not any longer his Mem|bers which he torments, they are only his wounds. If he flatter &s;ome Common-wealth, among the many which he threat|neth, and per&s;ecuteth; the good will which he &s;hews them is an a|dulterate love; He courts it only to enjoy, and makes no offers nor promi&s;es, but only to deprive it of its honor, and the power to di&s;po&s;e of it &s;elf. His Confederacies are
<PB N="177" REF="127"> like tho&s;e of <HI>Naha&s;h</HI> the <HI>Ammonite,</HI> who an&s;wered the men of <HI>Jabe&s;h Gilead,</HI> that de&s;ired to enter into Alliance with him; Herein will I con&s;ent, if I may pluck out your right eyes, and &s;et you as a reproach before all <HI>I&s;rael.</HI></P>
<P>If his Care&s;&s;es do not alwaies kill, they weaken and corrupt; If he &s;trangle not with embraces, yet he &s;ullies and &s;poiles the body which he toucheth. The parts which he leaves no print on with his bitings, he infects with his breath; and though in appearance he &s;eem to &s;pare <HI>Genois,</HI> and tho&s;e of <HI>Luca,</HI> they cannot &s;ay for all this, that he leaves them their Liberty pure and &s;potle&s;&s;e, without any &s;tamp of &s;la|very</P>
<P>To the&s;e he gives; from tho&s;e he borrows; that both may depend upon him: That Pen&s;ioners and Debters may keep a Countrey for him, where he hath no Subjects; that he may raign by Family inte|re&s;ts,
<PB N="178" REF="128"> being not able to do it by Co|lonies and Garri&s;ons.</P>
<P>This golden Fleece &s;o much e|&s;teemed, is a yoke which he impo|&s;eth upon <HI>petty Princes,</HI> that per|ceive not that he tames them by ho|nouring them, and that &s;uch a &s;o|ciety gives them a <HI>Ma&s;ter,</HI> and not a <HI>Companion;</HI> He will at la&s;t, either de&s;troy all, or po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e all; and as well beyond the <HI>Alps,</HI> as beyond the <HI>Rhine,</HI> he oppre&s;&s;eth all Soveraigns either with his friend&s;hip, or his ha|tred.</P>
<P>There is nothing to be &s;een about him, but cru&s;hed Scepters, broken Crowns, overturned Tribunals, no|thing but the torn En&s;igns of Do|minion and Juri&s;diction, but the heads of dead <HI>Kings,</HI> and the &s;poiles of tho&s;e that are yet alive; There is nothing heard about him, but the plaints and groans of the afflicted, but proud and outragious Com|mands, but Bravadoes added to Cruelty, reproaches to the mi&s;era|ble,
<PB N="179" REF="128"> and the voice which ecchoes on all &s;ides, <HI>Woe and Di&s;paire to the vanqui&s;hed.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="20" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XX.</HEAD>
<P>THat he may take away from his Tyranny the di&s;ta&s;tfull name of <HI>Novelty,</HI> he revives ancient O|racles which he interprets to his own advantage. He alleadgeth for a right and Title of his ambition, That the <HI>Lord</HI> of all the world mu&s;t come out of <HI>Spain;</HI> That it is more then 1500 years &s;ince this promi&s;e was made to it; In vertue whereof, he would get credit to it, by <HI>Fer|dinand Cortez,</HI> with <HI>Mote&s;ume</HI> the <HI>King</HI> of <HI>Mexica;</HI> That the Emperour was his naturall Lord, him whom he ought to expect and acknowledg as Soveraign <HI>Monarch</HI> of the Univer&s;e; his fir&s;t-born and lawfull heir of his <HI>Predece&s;&s;ors</HI> in al the <HI>Indies.</HI></P>
<P>At the per&s;wa&s;ion of this <HI>Mon|&s;ter,</HI>
<PB N="180" REF="129"> the Emperour him&s;elf &s;o wi&s;e and vertuous, ordinarily bragg'd a|mong&s;t his Familiars, to make the <HI>King</HI> of <HI>France</HI> the poore&s;t <HI>Gentle|man</HI> of his <HI>Kingdome:</HI> He embroyl'd them again the very &s;ame day they were made friends. The mode&s;te&s;t words that he uttered to <HI>Charles</HI> at that time, were, There is no other means to put an end to the publick calamities, but that <HI>Francis,</HI> be&s;ides what he is, be <HI>Emperour</HI> and <HI>King</HI> of <HI>Spain</HI> in my place, or I, be&s;ides what I am, <HI>King</HI> of <HI>France</HI> in his roome.</P>
<P>He engraved this proud In&s;crip|tion upon the Fronti&s;-piece of a <HI>Pa|lace,</HI> which is to be &s;een in <HI>Lumbar|dy; To Philip the &s;econd, King of Kings, Spani&s;h, African, Indian, Belgick, the courteous Ma&s;ter of all Nations, cho&s;en by God to re-unite all the &s;eparated Empires.</HI> And af|ter this &s;hall we doubt of his Inten|tions? Methinks we cannot ask a more expre&s;s and <HI>authentick Decla|ration;</HI>
<PB N="181" REF="129"> we need not put Interroga|tories to Spies, nor decipher the let|ters which &s;hould give light to his de&s;ign, &s;ince the &s;tones &s;peak, and it is imprinted in Marble.</P>
<P>He doth not make Warr for the honour of victory, or to recover that which is lo&s;t; It is only to get unju&s;tly, and for the hope of booty; He ends not there, to give re&s;t to oppre&s;&s;ed <HI>Provinces;</HI> but to di&s;arm his Enemies, and to deceive tho&s;e whom he could not overcome. And indeed, as &s;oon as he hath with|drawn his forces, and &s;hut up his Magazins, he makes u&s;e of &s;lights, and opens &s;hops full of all wicked and cruell inventions, pernicious and bloody arts.</P>
<P>There within are kept words of a double meaning, captious promi|&s;es, oathes which they will violate, fal&s;e peaces, and Treacherous friend|&s;hips; all the apples of di&s;order are gather'd there; There are crafts|men that labour day and night to
<PB N="182" REF="130"> lay hooks and &s;nares; There are nets &s;o &s;ubtile, that the cunning'&s;t will be caught: From thence pro|ceed tho&s;e packets and letters which bewitch the people, which weaken courage, and pervert the fidelity of the greate&s;t Captains; From thence have bin un&s;heathed tho&s;e knives which have committed parricides; the poy&s;on which hath bin mingled among&s;t the di&s;ea&s;es of the Sons of <HI>France;</HI> The gold which hath bin thrown into our Coun&s;ell, The nou|ri&s;hment which hath fed the league; the remedy which yet continues &s;ome &s;mall motion, and heaps toge|ther &s;ome remainders of life in the langui&s;hing and mi&s;erable Body of the <HI>Hugonote Faction.</HI> To hang &s;ix thou&s;and men one afternoon again&s;t the Law of Armes, and to &s;ay, it is to cha&s;ti&s;e five or &s;ix &s;editious per|&s;ons: To bani&s;h one whole people from their native Countrey; To choak another under the earth: To load a &s;hip with chains for the
<PB N="183" REF="130"> <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> who &s;hould be &s;aved from the &s;word, if the Armado that par|ted from <HI>Lisbone,</HI> in the year 1588, had &s;ucceeded as they conceived: To undertake to carry away, at a blow, the whole hou&s;e of <HI>England,</HI> and to involve in a common ruine <HI>Catholiques</HI> and <HI>Prote&s;tants,</HI> is but a part of the Actions and of the Thoughts of this <HI>Mon&s;ter;</HI> no more then what he hath done, and what he would have done.</P>
<P>But think not that he watcheth only for &s;trangers, and that he deals any better with Dome&s;ticks: He is not milder at home then abroad, neither is he &s;ociable to any. Is not the whole blood of <HI>Arragon</HI> ruin'd by divers means? Did he not &s;acri|fice an only &s;on to the &s;u&s;picions and d &s;tru&s;t of his Father? Hath he not very well acknowledged the &s;er|vices and fidelity of <HI>Alexander Far|neza, Duke</HI> of <HI>Parma?</HI> Did he not believe he did recompence him, if he u&s;ed him a little more favourable
<PB N="184" REF="131"> then he had done his Grandfather <HI>Peter Lewis,</HI> who was a&s;&s;a&s;&s;inated at <HI>Placentia? Don John</HI> of <HI>Au&s;tria,</HI> was he freely vertuous? Was it not a crime to that poor <HI>Prince</HI> to have done well, and to have bin able to do ill? Whereof was he judg'd guilty, but of his great reputation? Was it not believed he hindered him to grow old, becau&s;e he feared the progre&s;&s;e of &s;o fair a beginning, becau&s;e he conceives he had qualities too worthy to command, that they &s;hould alwayes be imployed to o|bey? He prote&s;teth neverthele&s;&s;e; that he doth nothing but to advance the glory of God, and would have his Cruelties be accounted good, as if he had undertaken them by divine In&s;piration, and for the generall good of the world.</P>
<P>To hear him &s;peak, That if he did not keep Religion here below, &s;he would fly away to heaven; That if he did not uphold the Church, it had fallen long before; and that
<PB N="185" REF="131"> <HI>Je&s;us Chri&s;t</HI> raigns not, but by the help and a&s;&s;i&s;tance he lends him. Yet it is certain, that if Religion were not profitable to him, it would be le&s;&s;e then indifferent; and that he is the Per&s;ecuter of the Church, when &s;he refu&s;eth to be the <HI>Mini|&s;ter</HI> of his pa&s;&s;ions, and that he hath alwayes &s;erved <HI>Je&s;us Chri&s;t</HI> unfaith|fully.</P>
<P>No man can be ignorant of the foul play and Trea&s;ons which he hath committed again&s;t him, be|&s;ides the vi&s;ible acts of ho&s;tility which he hath exerci&s;ed in the &s;eat of his Empire, even in the Sanctua|rie.</P>
<P>Dare he deny, but he was the Cau&s;e of the Revolt of the <HI>North,</HI> and guilty of <HI>Luthers</HI> fir&s;t faults? It was he that encouraged that petty <HI>Monk,</HI> who never had dared to &s;houlder the <HI>Pope,</HI> if he had belie|ved he had kept good corre&s;pon|dence with the <HI>Emperour.</HI> It was he that received into his Armes
<PB N="186" REF="132"> the growing here&s;ie, and favoure<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> its beginnings, that &s;o he might di|vide the &s;pirituall &s;trength of th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> <HI>Holy Sea</HI> from the Temporall one of <HI>Germany,</HI> and after he ha<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> weakened both, he might have le<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> trouble to u&s;urp over both. <HI>Henr<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> the eight grew de&s;perate by hi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> means, and by the pur&s;uites and Im+portunities of his Agents.</P>
<P>To content him, the Rigor o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the Church went as &s;wift as the pa&s;|&s;ion of <HI>Spain:</HI> He employed the la&s;t remedies in the apprehen&s;ion of a di&s;ea&s;e, and cut off that which was not yet corrupted: And to pa&s;&s;e from thence, the time being chan|ged, and his revenge &s;atisfied, with|out caring for the <HI>Intere&s;t</HI> of the Church which had e&s;pou&s;ed his, not of the danger where he left her, and into which he had precipitated her; he made no difficultie to contract a mo&s;t firme alliance with this <HI>King</HI> whom he came to render Schi&s;ma|tick, and who &s;moaked yet, if we
<PB N="187" REF="132"> may &s;o &s;ay, with the <HI>Anathema</HI> which was thrown upon him.</P>
<P>But that which is beyond all be|liefe, and which obligeth me to have compa&s;&s;ion of poor men, who dare not believe evill to be evill for fear of pa&s;&s;ing ra&s;h judgment; Is, That at the &s;ame time that he or|dained proce&s;&s;ions in <HI>Spain</HI> for the exaltation of the <HI>Holy-Church,</HI> He entered <HI>Rome</HI> with an Army of <HI>Lu|therans;</HI> He took pri&s;oner <HI>Pope Clement,</HI> and expos'd to the avarice and laughter of <HI>Hereticks,</HI> the pomp and magnificence of the Spou&s;e of the Son of God, the pre&s;ents of <HI>Kings</HI> and <HI>Nations,</HI> the Reliques of ble&s;&s;ed Martyrs, the Bodies of St. <HI>Peter</HI> and St. <HI>Paul,</HI> and generally, all things that we reverence, and to|wards which the very Divels them|&s;elves have in &s;ome &s;ort a re&s;pect or fear.</P>
<P>Before the world he covers him|&s;elf with &s;pecious <HI>Pretences,</HI> and all his garments are powdred with the
<PB N="188" REF="133"> names of <HI>Je&s;us,</HI> and with painted Cro&s;&s;es; but this is only a per&s;on which he repre&s;ents.</P>
<P>In the A&s;&s;emblies he &s;ounds high the &s;alvation of Soules and the publick profit, but in private he mocks at it, and &s;peaks in the eare of his Favourites, that he mu&s;t re|duce all to him&s;elf; that to ri&s;e, he may walk upon the Body of his own Father; That Truth of it &s;elf is not better then fal&s;hood, and that we ought to mea&s;ure the value of the one and of the other, by the pro|fit which comes from them; that a good Con&s;cience is extreamly in|convenient for a man that hath great de&s;igns; That the advantages of Religion are for <HI>Princes,</HI> the &s;cruples and doubts for their Sub|jects; That vertue may be &s;ometimes dangerous, but its appearance al|wayes nece&s;&s;ary; That inju&s;tice in|deed carrieth an odious name, but the unju&s;t find them&s;elves well; that contrarily hone&s;ty is content to be
<PB N="189" REF="133"> prai&s;ed, and to profit tho&s;e that have it not, being altogether unpro|fitable to him that po&s;&s;e&s;&s;eth it.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="21" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXI.</HEAD>
<P>THe&s;e and &s;uch like <HI>Maximes</HI> coming out of a mouth &s;o im|pure, and this Prodigie being more ugly and formidable then I can po&s;|&s;ibly paint it forth; I mu&s;t needs prote&s;t, that <HI>Chri&s;tendome</HI> is infi|nitly obliged to the <HI>King,</HI> for his continuall care to protect it from his Ambu&s;hes, and to break as many enterpri&s;es as he can make to the prejudice of the Common liber|tie.</P>
<P>She hath wherewith to comfort her &s;elf for the death of the Late <HI>King,</HI> in the Per&s;on of &s;o worthy a Succe&s;&s;our, and wherewith to for|get &s;o many lo&s;&s;es in the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of &s;o great a good; She hath that <HI>Prince</HI> which &s;he eal'd upon in her
<PB N="190" REF="134"> griefe &s;o many yeares agoe, and which &s;he wanted when <HI>Navarre</HI> was u&s;urp'd, when <HI>Portugal</HI> was ravi&s;hed away, when <HI>Kingdomes</HI> were reduced into <HI>Provinces.</HI> He hath already wiped off the teares of the di&s;con&s;olate Comon-wealth, and healed &s;ome of her wounds; but for the little ayd which he claimes from her &s;elf, that &s;mall and corre&s;pondence with the de|&s;igne which he hath, he will &s;pee|dily requite all the injuries which &s;he hath received: He hath put her in a condition not to fear: and if &s;he be not wanting to her &s;elf, to hope all things.</P>
<P>It is not his fault that &s;he reco|vers not her former beauty, having received from him her primitive forme; that he di&s;tingui&s;heth not her different parties, whereof will be made a confu&s;ed and mon&s;trous heap; and that he puts not in their right place the ju&s;t bounds of his States, which have bin removed, du|ring
<PB N="191" REF="134"> the di&s;orders of <HI>France.</HI></P>
<P>Though the di&s;ea&s;e be never &s;o violent that a&s;&s;aults her, &s;he &s;hall never want a remedy; In what place &s;oever the <HI>Mon&s;ter</HI> appears, &s;he is &s;ure of a <HI>Pre&s;erver,</HI> and what|&s;oever power threatneth her, &s;he hath another to defend her.</P>
<P>And for us who have &s;een &s;o fair a light ri&s;e over our head, who have adored it from the fir&s;t in&s;tant of its appearing, and who are neerlier concerned with this brave <HI>Prince</HI> then Strangers, having the honour to have the &s;ame Common Coun|trey with him: We ought certain|ly, to account it an exceeding glory, that a <HI>Frenchman</HI> is this day nece&s;|&s;ary for all <HI>Europe.</HI></P>
<P>In that he is the de&s;ire and ex|pectation of all people; that he makes new De&s;tinies for wretched Innocents; That he undertakes with &s;ucce&s;&s;e good cau&s;es abandoned; that he is prai&s;ed of all that have any need of his word; that he is admired
<PB N="192" REF="135"> of wi&s;e men, as much as other <HI>Prin|ces</HI> are of the vulgar.</P>
<P>If, when the <HI>Greeks</HI> or <HI>Romans</HI> made havock of the world, and whole Kingdomes bewail'd their victories, and were mourning for their Conque&s;ts; any one had bin found of this humour, who had &s;topt the impetuou&s;ne&s;&s;e of their Ambition, and had &s;trength and courage enough to revenge the of|fended Nations, what Sacrifices think you had bin offered to him? In what part of the earth had they not erected Altars to him? What place had he not obtain'd among the Demy-gods of every Coun|trey? And though our Religion allow not &s;o liberall an acknow|ledgment; what prayers &s;hould we have given him, who &s;hould have cha&s;ed <HI>Alexander</HI> into his own <HI>Macedon,</HI> or forced the <HI>Romanes</HI> to the brink of their own <HI>Tyber?</HI> When the <HI>Goths,</HI> the <HI>Vandals,</HI> the <HI>Gepides,</HI> the <HI>Mains,</HI> the <HI>Huns,</HI> the
<PB N="193" REF="135"> <HI>Quades,</HI> the <HI>Herules,</HI> &amp; tho&s;e other enemies of Mankind, quitted their mi&s;erable habitations, and overran divers Countries of the world, to find more happie dwellings, and a more favourable aire, then that of their Birth: When with unu&s;uall faces, an inarticulate language, with the skins of Wild-bea&s;ts, which covered them even to the eies; they carried on all &s;ides death and &s;lavery; and there was made almo&s;t an univer&s;all change of Laws, Cu&s;tomes, Government and Language.</P>
<P>If God had rais'd up &s;uch a <HI>Prince</HI> as ours; who had bin able to &s;top the cour&s;e of the&s;e people of the <HI>North,</HI> and denied them en|trance into <HI>Gaule</HI> and <HI>Italie;</HI> who had &s;ent them back to inhabite their wilderne&s;&s;e, and to endure the ri|gors of their eternall winter? If there had bin a <HI>Lewis</HI> the <HI>Ju&s;t,</HI> to oppo&s;e the <HI>Gen&s;ericks,</HI> and the <HI>Ma|ricks;</HI> to cha&s;ti&s;e <HI>Attila</HI> and <HI>Totila,</HI>
<PB N="194" REF="136"> and &s;uch U&s;urpers; whom one can|not name without hurting his mouth, and wounding French ears; the vertue of this generous Defen|der of liberty, would be at this day adored wherever there were any a&s;&s;embly of men, or any forme of Government; There would re|main nothing of him which the Publick Piety had not con&s;ecrated, and put in the number of Sainted things: His triumph had la&s;ted yet, and had bin continued by the Ju&s;tice of Po&s;terity, in the &s;ucce&s;&s;ion of all Ages. On the contrary, the hatred which is borne to Tyrants never hath an end; having accom|pained them all their life, it fol|lowes them to their grave, and &s;uf|fers them not to enjoy in &s;afety that common <HI>A&s;ylum</HI> of the mi&s;e|rable. Their happine&s;&s;e which was only built upon bloud, Deaths and ruines, is a dolefull and portentous object to all the generations of men: We wi&s;h them ill in the Hi|&s;tories;
<PB N="195" REF="136"> We are of all the con&s;pi|racies which they tell us have bin made again&s;t their per&s;ons; and rea|ding the progre&s;&s;e of their good fortune, we make all the ha&s;t we can to come to their end, to behold them peri&s;h with plea&s;ure: In brief, not any damned are more tor|mented then they; For the pains which they &s;uffer in another life, are augmented by the cur&s;es they receive in this; and as long as their &s;oul burns in the bottomle&s;&s;e pit, their very Phanta&s;me, which re|mains here, is not free from puni&s;h|ment; and we exerci&s;e our venge|ance at lea&s;t upon their reputation, and their memory.</P>
<P>Let them accu&s;e Heaven as much as they will, to ju&s;tifie them&s;elves; Let them &s;ay, as long as they will, to authorize their power, that it comes from on High; That they are e&s;tabli&s;hed by the hand of God, and a&s;&s;i&s;ted particularly by his grace: God indeed may make u&s;e
<PB N="196" REF="137"> of them, but he loves them not; If he &s;ends them us, it is in his wrath and in the day of his fury: They are the evils wherewith the prophets threaten us; the effects of his offended providence, the ex|ecutioners of his ju&s;tice. The &s;word of the Almighty is in the hands of his enemies, <HI>P&s;al.</HI> 16. It was told of <HI>E&s;au,</HI> (which Saint <HI>Paul</HI> gives us for a &s;ign and example of the Re|probate) that he &s;hould live by his &s;word. <HI>Woe upon A&s;hur,</HI> cryeth the Lord by I&s;aiah: <HI>He is the rod of my fury; He is my &s;taff my indignation is in his hand. Woe unto tho&s;e that go down into Egypt for aid; The Egyptian is a man and not God, and their hor&s;es are fle&s;h and not &s;pirit.</HI> Where we may &s;ee by the way, that He not only dete&s;ts Ty|rants, but al&s;o the People that are confederate with them, and who adheer unto their Party; He not only condemnes violence, but al&s;o ba&s;e cowardline&s;&s;e.</P>
<P><HI>Anti-Christ,</HI> who is called the
<PB N="197" REF="137"> Man of Sin, and the Son of Perditi|on, &s;hall be &s;ent after the &s;ame manner as the&s;e unju&s;t Conquerers. He &s;hal &s;lay, u&s;urp, and invade, more then ever they have done. The Con|querors that are &s;poken of, are but petty Theeves and ordinary offen|ders in re&s;pect of him. He mu&s;t be enriched with the &s;poile of the Univer&s;e, and gather the &s;ucce&s;&s;ion of all ages: If there be any new <HI>Mines</HI> to be di&s;covered, they are re&s;erved for him. The <HI>Ocean</HI> &s;hall have no pearles, nor amber but for him; All Soveraigns &s;hall be his Subjects, and of all States he &s;hall make but one; It &s;hall be that Bea&s;t which Saint John &s;aw a&s;cend out of the &s;ea, who had &s;even heads and ten hornes, and upon his horns ten Diadems, and upon his heads the name of bla&s;phemy. The Dragon which drew with his taile the third part of the Starrs, and ca&s;t them down, &s;hall re&s;ign his power to him, and con&s;train all creatures ot fall down before
<PB N="198" REF="138"> him. To him it &s;hall be given to make warr again&s;t the Saints, and to overcome them: He &s;hall have power over every Kindred, Lan|guage and Nation. But that Am|bitious men who renounce all hope of <HI>Paradice</HI> for the &s;malle&s;t Inte|re&s;ts, and &s;ell their &s;oul at too cheap a rate, may draw no ad|vantage from this compari&s;on, who will flatter their vanity, and boa&s;t of the mi&s;eries whereof they are the Cau&s;e; They mu&s;t know, that the filthie&s;t and mo&s;t imper|fect Creatures have heretofore driven people out of their Country, have made De&s;art, I&s;lands extream|ly fruitfull, and that Frogs, Bats and Locu&s;ts have bin imployed; as well as they, to make de&s;olate Em|pires and to per&s;ecute, one while the guilty, another while the inno|cent. Even dead things, and in|animate, want not &s;trength, when there is no que&s;tion but to de&s;troy and ruine. Winds, Rains, Drouths
<PB N="199" REF="138"> are more formidable then <HI>Spani|ards.</HI> There needeth but a weeks &s;ickne&s;&s;e to make of a great King|dome a great Wilderne&s;&s;e. One evill Exhalation, which &s;preads it &s;elf from Ea&s;t to We&s;t, is able to &s;tarve the World by a generall barenne&s;&s;e: And yet <HI>Spinola</HI> with all his skill, and all the forces of his Ma&s;ter, &s;hall have much adoe to make a dearth in a be&s;ieged place.</P>
<P>In the year of <HI>Grace,</HI> 170. a man opening by chance a &s;hrine of gold, which was in the Temple of <HI>Apollo</HI> in <HI>Babylon,</HI> there came out &s;uch a pe&s;tilent breath, that it choak'd him pre&s;ently, infected the City and the Province, and over-ran &s;uch a va&s;t circuit of the Coun|trey, that almo&s;t half Mankind died thereof, and the faire&s;t portion of the Univer&s;e was unpeopled. So that the Warr of the <HI>Marcomans</HI> comming in this time, all the <HI>Roman</HI> Empire was not able to furni&s;h men enough to make up the body of a
<PB N="200" REF="139"> full Army, and they were fain to li&s;t the Slaves and the <HI>Gladiators,</HI> and other <HI>Criminals,</HI> for want of lawfull Souldiers.</P>
<P>Under the Reign of the Emperor <HI>Tyberius,</HI> an Earthquake &s;wallowed up 17 Towns of <HI>A&s;ia,</HI> in le&s;&s;e then 24 houres &s;pace, and other acci|dents have de&s;troy'd other famous Cities, which are only now found in Ancient <HI>Geographers.</HI></P>
<P>I have &s;een the tops of Steeples in the bottome of waters: I have &s;een Ships &s;aile over the Cities of <HI>Zeland,</HI> and pittied the greatne&s;&s;e of humane things, at the &s;ight of this &s;ad and mi&s;erable &s;pectacle. And indeed, who is &s;o inchanted with the Court, and &s;o amazed with the noi&s;e and Tumult which the fortune of Kings maketh: who doth not contemne the weakne&s;&s;e of the mo&s;t mighty, and doth not laugh at the three yeares and a half which were imployed to con|quer a heap of Sand, and to take the
<PB N="201" REF="139"> place where <HI>O&s;tend</HI> was, if he will but take the pains to con&s;ider, that a hole well &s;top'd in a bank, may in one night drown'd all the Low-Countreys? To &s;ay truth, it is har|der to profit then to hurt, to &s;ave men then to de&s;troy them: to main|tain the &s;olid, the firme temper of bodies &s;ubject to peri&s;h, and which may come to an end at every mo|ment, then to ha&s;ten their de&s;tructi|on for a few houres.</P>
<P>And if it be true as Divinity tea|cheth us, that the Eternall wi&s;dome in pre&s;erving the world continueth in &s;ome &s;ort to create; In like man|ner, the <HI>King,</HI> who hath re&s;olved to underprop &s;haken States, to re-inve&s;t the lawfull <HI>Lords,</HI> and to maintain the ancient Laws, &s;hall do no le&s;&s;e then Law-givers have done, who fir&s;t a&s;&s;embled wandring men, who drew the modell of Commu|nities, and laid the Foundations of Policie.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="22" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="202" REF="140">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXII.</HEAD>
<P>IF he &s;aw nothing beyond this life, and if he had no Judge a|bove, before whom he mu&s;t one day appear; He might, as well as others, grow great with the mi&s;e|ries of Chri&s;tendome; and with time it would not be impo&s;&s;ible for him to come to the <HI>Monarchie</HI> of the world: He might make his be&s;t of occa&s;ions which &s;mile upon him on which &s;ide &s;oever he turns him|&s;elf; to husband the &s;eeds of Divi|&s;ion &s;prung up among our neigh|bours, hear people that &s;ollicite him, and receive tho&s;e who would willingly render them&s;elves: Nece&s;|&s;ary qualities to conquer, and to a&s;&s;ure Conque&s;ts, are not wanting to him: he is in the &s;trength of a fair and flouri&s;hing youth: he hath got an incredible reputation, he hath a boldne&s;s a&s;toni&s;hed at nothing; a patience which performeth all
<PB N="203" REF="140"> things, a Kingdome which can nei|ther be poor, nor unpeopled.</P>
<P>I have not re&s;olved here to prai&s;e <HI>France,</HI> that rich and plea&s;ant part of the earth, which heaven favours with its &s;weete&s;t and mo&s;t amorous a&s;pects, and upon which it &s;heds the be&s;t Influences of the &s;tarrs: I will &s;ay nothing, in particular, of the reputation of the <HI>King:</HI> It is &s;uffi|ciently known, by it his Kingdome hath no Frontiers; by it, he reignes in the minds of others Subjects; and that the e&s;teem which &s;trangers make of him, is the cau&s;e that they neglect their own <HI>Princes.</HI></P>
<P>I will &s;peak no more of his bold|ne&s;&s;e, which hath oftentimes oblig'd him to a&s;&s;ault his Enemies, though they were more in number, and had the advantage of the place to fight in; that hath carried him to begin a great warr with his meer Regi|ment of Guards; which hath made him undertake a bu&s;ine&s;&s;e which his Father had only di&s;covered, and
<PB N="204" REF="141"> where his Predece&s;&s;ors having im|ployed all their might, &s;hew'd no|thing but their weakne&s;&s;e.</P>
<P>If in the life of <HI>Epiphanius,</HI> Bi&s;hop of <HI>Pavia,</HI> written by his Succe&s;&s;or, in the &s;ame Dignity there be menti|on made, as it were, of a half mi|racle, that he dur&s;t pa&s;s the <HI>Alpes</HI> in the moneth of <HI>March,</HI> to go find at <HI>Lyon,</HI> the <HI>King</HI> of the <HI>Bour|gonians,</HI> in behalf of the <HI>King</HI> of the <HI>Goths:</HI> and if the Author call this, to contemne Death, to fight again&s;t the violence of the &s;ea&s;on, and not to fear the injuries of the incen&s;ed heaven: What is it that the <HI>King</HI> goes pre&s;ently to do with an Army? Hath he not conquered in <HI>February</HI> in the precipices, and the Ice? Hath he not taken a Town that the winter, the Mountains, and men defended? For the labour which he built in the Sea, and in the mid&s;t of the to&s;s'd waves, I intend not to touch here.</P>
<P>The mode&s;ty of an Orators &s;tyle
<PB N="205" REF="141"> agrees not with an action &s;o &s;trange, &s;o unheard of, &s;o little credible: Poets have only tight to deale on this Subject, it belongs to their ar|tificiall language, and as they call it, <HI>Heroick;</HI> it is worthy of their <HI>Enthu&s;ia&s;me,</HI> and of their pompous and figurative de&s;criptions; It would be to enter into their pro|fe&s;&s;ion, and to pa&s;s tho&s;e bounds which do divide us, but to be wil|ling to relate the Captivity of the <HI>Ocean,</HI> the re&s;train'd power of the waves, the removed place of the Elements, the Empire of winds, and of fortune which hath changed its <HI>Ma&s;ter,</HI> and no longer acknow|ledgeth any but <HI>Lewis the Ju&s;t.</HI> Ne|ver did Truth more re&s;emble a lye then this; and we doubt yet whe|ther it were a dream, or an Inchant|ment, or a &s;tory.</P>
<P>So much there is that we may a|vow, that the <HI>King</HI> is bold, even to undertake things without example, which ravi&s;h with admiration tho&s;e
<PB N="206" REF="142"> that behold them, and appear to others &s;o hard and difficult, that they have much ado not to account them Fabulous; But we mu&s;t avow by the &s;ame means, that his boldne&s;s never did any thing without his <HI>Pa|tience,</HI> and that this which is not contrary to Readine&s;&s;e, of which we will pre&s;ently &s;peak, hath re|compenced his paines, crowned his work, &s;et the affaires in their la&s;t perfection, and hath founded an Eternall peace upon an intire victo|ry.</P>
<P>We might have &s;een el&s;e-where great beginnings, formidable pre|parations, many warrs proclaimed, &s;tore of Edicts of fire and blood: But the&s;e beginnings had bin but recal'd by other contrary ones, and the&s;e warres had bin ended by a lo&s;t expen&s;es; the&s;e Preparations had done no more hurt, then the machine&s;s of a Theater, then the picture of Dragons and Cerbe|ru&s;&s;es, the&s;e Edicts had been
<PB N="207" REF="142"> di&s;honourable accommodation: The fir&s;t &s;ucce&s;s that had not an&s;wered our wi&s;h, had made us cur&s;e the whole bu&s;ine&s;s; At the lea&s;t diffi|cultie which had offered it &s;elf con|trary to our expectation, we had fallen out with <HI>Paris,</HI> regretted the Court, and the <HI>Tuilleries;</HI> A good and whol&s;ome Coun&s;ell had bin blamed, not for having bin followed with a bad event, but for not ha|ving produced an effect &s;oon e|nough: And if the Victory had not come ju&s;t at the point that we would have had, we had left our affaires thus far advanced, and grown de&s;perate at a thing half done. Patience then is ab&s;olute|ly nece&s;&s;ary to execute high and im|portant enterpri&s;es; to go on ju&s;t right to the mark, without &s;taying on one or other &s;ide of the way; to doe that which he hath re&s;olved, to make a mock of running reports, to prefer durable glory and &s;olid ef|fects, before a &s;hort reputation, and
<PB N="208" REF="143"> the vanity of appearance; To be moved neither at the murmures of his own, not the bravadoes of his e|nemy, to come to the end of his ob|&s;tinate re&s;olution, after he hath &s;pent its &s;trength to overcome. La&s;tly, that which both will, and and knows how to defend it &s;elf. But what need we di&s;&s;emble? This vertue which the King this day puts in u&s;e, is as new to us, as it was un|known to our Fathers; the publick voice reproacheth us with the con|trary vice, and all Antiquity hath blamed us for it: For though &s;ome|times they &s;wore &s;olemnly never to put of their belts till they had won the Capitol, and &s;ometimes promi|&s;ed their God to con&s;ecrate to him the Armes of the <HI>Romanes,</HI> and to pre&s;ent him a Collar of Gold made of their bootie; Though yet living under Chri&s;tian Laws, they obliged them&s;elves to take Cities, and vow'd never to put off their Cloathes, nor to eat nor drink till
<PB N="209" REF="143"> they had gained them, which they called to &s;wear and vow a Siege, yet mo&s;t commonly they broke their vow, and violated their oath; and if at any time they gained the pla|ces which they be&s;ieg'd, it was ra|ther by ra&s;hne&s;&s;e then by rea&s;on, ra|ther in lo&s;ing men, then in managing the time; and more for that the Art of Fortification was unknown, then that they knew how to a&s;&s;ault them.</P>
<P>For my own part, I cannot prai&s;e this ca&s;uall and di&s;orderly valour; It is no hard matter to be couragi|ous for a time, but alwayes to be, is hard; and an even temper hath bin &s;o much e&s;teemed among&s;t &s;ome <HI>Sages,</HI> that they have believed, that it was &s;omething more excellent to per&s;evere in an Evill, then not to be a&s;&s;ur'd in vertue.</P>
<P>There is a great company of men who would do good actions, if they &s;hould endure for but a day; there are few that are able to manage a
<PB N="210" REF="144"> long de&s;ign; There are few &s;o eager, who&s;e motion pa&s;&s;eth not away, or who have continuall furies; There are &s;carce any but had rather under|take many bu&s;ine&s;&s;es, and change often, then to fix to one object, and continue in the &s;ame labour. The mo&s;t part of the Northern people do thus, and have only &s;ome rap|tures and &s;uddain motions; They u&s;e no di&s;cour&s;e, nor make u&s;e of rea&s;on to a warr, but collecting all their vigour together, and ca&s;ting out all their choller; at fir&s;t, they make an extream fierce on&s;et; after which, finding more re&s;i&s;tance then they expected, and the property of violence being to indure but a while, if rea&s;on and argument be not there to maintain it, as they were more then men at the begin|ning, &s;o they become le&s;&s;e then wo|men in the pur&s;uit of their action and as if they went out of a fitt of a fever, after they have bin &s;tirr'd, they langui&s;h in a lethargie; they
<PB N="211" REF="144"> flie ordinarily, if they put not to flight, and yield them&s;elves, if they do not take: At lea&s;t they will hazard their fortune and their hopes all at once, and aske a gene|rall a&s;&s;ault, or one &s;et battell, that they may have nothing to do to morrow: They never dreame of overcoming, but of ending the warre, and to go out of their pre|&s;ent inconveniences even by thier defeat, nay by their death: That brave <HI>Gaule</HI> knew it very well in the Commentaries of his Enemy, where an&s;wering the objections of his Accu&s;ers; he prote&s;ted he would not leave the charge of his Army with any body, for fear le&s;t he, to whom he left it, pre&s;&s;'d with the importunity of the multitude, might be con&s;train'd to fight; to which he &s;aw all were inclin'd, for that they had not courage, nor were able to endure the tediou&s;ne&s;&s;e of a Warr. And in another pa&s;|&s;age of the &s;ame writings, we may
<PB N="212" REF="145"> &s;ee that it is oftentimes cowardice and not boldne&s;&s;e, to remit all to the deci&s;ion of one Battle; and that more are found who will willingly offer them&s;elves to death, then who will manfully &s;uffer pain.</P>
<P>The Emperor <HI>Otho</HI> was conque|red, becau&s;e he had not patience to conquer: He kil'd him&s;elf out of daintine&s;&s;e, and cho&s;e rather to peri&s;h quickly, then to &s;uffer but a while: without &s;hewing any fear, or being put to &s;light, he was the de&s;erter of his Party, and the fugi|tive of his own Army: He wanted neither Coun&s;ell nor &s;trength; he had the faire&s;t Troops, and the mo&s;t de&s;irous to do well that ever were &s;een; and yet by rea&s;on of one day which was not fortunate to them, he abandoned the victory to an enemy who in all things was in|feriour to him, and quitted his par|ty becau&s;e he got not at the fir&s;t blow. He renounced the Empire, his honour and his life, for not be|ing
<PB N="213" REF="145"> able to &s;upport the doubt and uncertainty of the future; and the care of being &s;till &s;ollicitous after his affairs, &s;eemed &s;o trouble&s;ome to him, that in &s;ome &s;ort to be at lei&s;ure, he went out of the world.</P>
<P>We &s;ee by this, that weakne&s;&s;e, as well as nece&s;&s;ity, carryes men to de&s;ire extreams, and that not only the valiant and the de&s;perate de&s;pi&s;e death, but al&s;o the nice and di&s;con|tented.</P>
<P>The opinion of mi&s;ery toucheth weak minds more violently then mi&s;ery it &s;elf; they believe they do very much to &s;ave them&s;elves from being to&s;&s;'d, to fall down, and preferr an ill condition before an uncertain one: It is impo&s;&s;ible for them to let events &s;ucceed, and to expect the maturity of things: They would ha&s;ten the cour&s;e of Provi|dence, and advance its effects; they would manage at their plea&s;ure its motions and periods: They would
<PB N="214" REF="146"> lead it, and not follow it, as if it were Their providence, and not Gods.</P>
<P>Wi&s;e men do otherwi&s;e, <HI>David</HI> gives this te&s;timony of him&s;elf; That he hath patiently waited for the Lord, who deceived him not: And yet this impatience is &s;o naturall to a man, and &s;o hard to be overcome, that he confe&s;&s;eth, that the &s;ucce&s;&s;es which he hoped for, have often|times wearied his hopes; that his &s;pirit was di&s;mayed in the con&s;ide|ration of what was to come, and his faith weakned by the length of time which came not; that many times murmurings &s;lipt from him, even to doubt of his Anointing, and of the word of <HI>Samuel,</HI> &s;aying, <HI>E|very man is a lyar;</HI> to &s;ay to God him&s;elf: <HI>Sleepe&s;t thou O Lord?</HI> Ha&s;t thou forgot thy Promi&s;e? Wilt thou fal&s;ifie thy Oath? Now, &s;ince a Prince who was a&s;&s;ured of Gods de&s;ign, by expre&s;s Revelati|ons, and by an infallible knowledg,
<PB N="215" REF="146"> &s;eeing that the effects of promi&s;es went on more &s;lowly then he de&s;i|red, was di&s;quieted to hope, and had doubts, and beginnings of im|patiency: What prai&s;es &s;hall we be&s;tow upon the <HI>King?</HI> Who not knowing whether his enterpri&s;es &s;hould be &s;ucce&s;sfull or no, but knowing only that they were ju&s;t: not knowing whether God would reward them in this world, but knowing only that he doth ap|prove them; brings an invincible firmne&s;s and per&s;everance: from which he can be turned neither by the length of time, nor by the great|ne&s;s of expence, nor by the num|ber of adver&s;aries, who increa&s;e; nor by the default of Friends, who faile; nor by the hardne&s;&s;e of the matter which he encounters; nor by the repugnancy of the workmen which he imployes?</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="23" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="216" REF="147">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXIII.</HEAD>
<P>NOthing is impo&s;&s;ible to a <HI>Prince</HI> which knowes how to expect and per&s;evere thus; e&s;peci|ally when he is young, and hath not only before him a large time to imploy, but can al&s;o change his ver|tue according to the diver&s;ity of oc|ca&s;ions, and make u&s;e of expedition, where patience is not beneficiall.</P>
<P>The Age whereof the <HI>King</HI> is now, is the age of well-undertaking, and of well-acting, the fulne&s;s and perfection of a man, the vigor and &s;olidity of life: Children are not yet come to it, and old men are pa&s;&s;'t it; one are the Flowers, the other the bark: The&s;e know not the things of the world, the others have forgotten them.</P>
<P>Men grow not old impunely and without &s;ome notable diminution of them&s;elves: It co&s;ts ordinarily all a mans &s;trength, and a piece of his
<PB N="217" REF="147"> rea&s;on: A man cannot be twice, &amp; we do wrong to call that ripe, which is rotten; and to believe that good coun&s;els can only proceed from the want of naturall heat: This would be to give a very di&s;honourable be|ginning to Prudence, to make it the daughter of Infirmity: It would be, to be ungratefull to God, to at|tribute to time and other inferiour Cau&s;es, the grace which we hold only from him.</P>
<P>Thus the mo&s;t ancient and be&s;t in&s;tructed <HI>Philo&s;ophers,</HI> having pro|pounded it as a generall Belief, that good &s;ence is the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of the Ancient, and that the multitude of years teacheth wi&s;dome: He con|cludes that he had bin of that opi|nion, but that &s;ince he had known, That the Ancient do not alwayes under&s;tand judgment, and that old men are not alwayes wi&s;e: That it is the In&s;piration of the Al|mighty which giveth under&s;tan|ding, and that the &s;pirit is from
<PB N="218" REF="148"> man, and not from age.</P>
<P>And a <HI>Rabbin,</HI> who is of no &s;mall authority among the <HI>Jews,</HI> expoun|ding that Text of holy Scripture, <HI>Your young men &s;hall &s;ee vi&s;ions, and your old men &s;hall dream dreams;</HI> concludes from the&s;e words; That yong men are admitted neerer God then old men, and that they have a more particular communication of his &s;ecrets; Fora&s;much as the knowledg which is drawn from a vi&s;ion, is clearer and more di&s;tinct, then that which proceeds from a dream.</P>
<P>If we may believe tho&s;e who have the honour to be neer the <HI>King,</HI> and to con&s;ider the mo&s;t in|ward cour&s;e of his life, the &s;ource of his actions; he is &s;o happie in what he conceiveth, and judgeth &s;o cer|tainly of uncertain things, that it appears he beholds them not after our manner, and that he is guided by a purer light then that of ordinary rea&s;on; The mo&s;t part of
<PB N="219" REF="148"> the great re&s;olutions which he hath taken, have bin &s;ent him from Hea|ven; The greate&s;t part of his Coun|&s;els come from a &s;uperiour Pru|dence, and are rather to be accoun|ted the immediate In&s;pirations of God, then propo&s;als made by men. He oftentimes finds truth without taking the pains to &s;earch for it; and the &s;uddene&s;t motion of his thought, is ordinarily &s;o rationall and &s;o concluding, that the follow|ing di&s;cour&s;e doth only approve that fir&s;t act, without adding any new thing thereto.</P>
<P>I know there is a mi&s;erable &s;ci|ence which men learn by their faults and their misfortunes; and that many become Phy&s;itians from the &s;trength and frequency of their di&s;|ea&s;es. But yet this advantage of long age, which is got only by the lo&s;&s;e of the deare&s;t and mo&s;t pre|cious part of our life, is not wanting to the <HI>Kings</HI> youth; and fortune hath a&s;&s;embled &s;o many divers e|vents,
<PB N="220" REF="149"> and hath made him &s;ee in a throng &s;uch a number of affairs, that you will &s;ay, that &s;he had a de&s;ign to give him an abridg'd experience, and to teach him in an Epitome; &s;he was never more bu&s;ie, never more active then under his raign; &s;he hath hid nothing from him of all the &s;trange things &s;he could pro|duce; &s;he hath brought to light e|ven the utmo&s;t of her malice: She hath not re&s;erved one blow which &s;he hath not &s;tricken: &s;he hath &s;hewed him in le&s;&s;e then 19 years the image of many ages.</P>
<P>There have pa&s;&s;ed &s;ome whole &s;ea&s;ons, wherein the world &s;eemed to be a &s;leep, and that there was, as it were, a generall &s;u&s;pen&s;ion of all the functions of an active life; There is a <HI>vacuum,</HI> an emptie &s;pace in the memorie of things: Renown gives but a very &s;lender te&s;timony thereof: Books tell us no news; there is not any Hi&s;tory of that time, or at mo&s;t it is only imployed
<PB N="221" REF="149"> in de&s;cribing the Fea&s;ts and Masks at the <HI>Carnevall,</HI> in repre&s;enting the order of a Ceremony, and magnifi|cence of a <HI>Turney,</HI> in relating the Arrivall of &s;ome <HI>King</HI> to his Capi|tall City, or the Solemnities of his Marriage. We are not borne in &s;uch &s;oft and idle &s;ea&s;ons: the Reign of the <HI>King</HI> is not of this &s;ort. It is remarkable as well by its proper &s;torms, as by the changes and revo|lutions which have hapned in all <HI>Europe:</HI> There hath bin nothing but tumults and hurli-burly, but Civil and dome&s;tick divi&s;ions, but revolts or intendments to them; They never di&s;armed for good and all, nor was there any concord or agreement which was not broken the next day: The publick good, and the reformation of the State, have almo&s;t ruined the Publick and the State three or foure times: Ma|je&s;tie hath bin a&s;&s;aulted on all &s;ides, and by all kind of engines and plots. He hath bin fain to avenge it of the
<PB N="222" REF="150"> outrages of tho&s;e that contemned it, to draw it out of their hands that abu&s;'d it; He hath been compel'd to puni&s;h his Lovers, and his Ene|mies, to defend him&s;elf from with|in again&s;t evill Coun&s;ellors, and from without again&s;t Rebels; to purcha&s;e the Covetous, to honor the Ambitious, and at la&s;t to con|quer both the one and the other. The <HI>King</HI> hath bin nouri&s;hed in this fair Calme, he hath grown up a|mid&s;t the&s;e oppo&s;itions and contra|dictions.</P>
<P>This was the pa&s;time of his In|fancy, and the recreations he was allowed, after the death of the late <HI>King</HI> his Father: The&s;e are the flow|ers which he found in the way he made; the &s;hades and re&s;ting places which were erected for him in his pa&s;&s;age: Yet to &s;ay the truth, &s;o har&s;h and rigid an exerci&s;e hath not bin unprofitable to him. The tem|pe&s;t hath taught him the art of &s;wimming; Adver&s;ity hath read
<PB N="223" REF="150"> him le&s;&s;ons which he wil make u&s;e of all his life; He hath not lo&s;t his time in &s;o &s;ad a School: Pains af|ford more in&s;tructions then plea|&s;ures; It is much better for him that Adver&s;aries have exerci&s;ed his vertue, then that Flatterers had corrupted it: He hath drawn much more profit from his great variety of misfortunes, then he could have had contentment from &s;o long a peace, who&s;e daies are all alike. At lea&s;t, in a good houre he hath learned hence to be &s;ecret, ha|ving had at fir&s;t to encounter a mul|titude of Traitors and Spies, and to guard him&s;elf from all the cunning of an evill time; He hath acquir'd the perfection of that quality, which makes man the true po&s;&s;e&s;&s;or of him&s;elf, and whereby he is not put in the power of another, by an incon|&s;iderate liberty; that he retains a &s;etled mind in the ambu&s;hments and enterpri&s;es of wicked men: That he &s;pends by mea&s;ure and
<PB N="224" REF="151"> with di&s;cretion, and leaves no out|ward mark of his Intentions to tho&s;e that &s;hould not know them: He hath practi&s;ed before their &s;ea|&s;on, and in the Innocence of his fir&s;t years, the other vertues of old age; and at the age where we begin to ob&s;erve onely good inclinations, we have admired perfect Habits.</P>
<P>We have &s;een a wi&s;e Child, a ju|dicious Child, a Child equally in&s;tru|cted in the affaires of peace and of warr. We have &s;een a Child jealous of his Authority, a Child the Rivall and Emulator of the glory of a great <HI>King</HI> his Father, a Child him|&s;elf the Father of his Countrey. We have &s;een Con&s;piracies extingui&s;h|ed, Tyrants rooted out, Cities for|ced, Armies broken by a Child. What &s;hall I &s;ay more? He hath done very opportunely, all that he ought to do to conquer; and if we change the Theater of his actions, he would have conquered the Provin|ces which he hath pre&s;erved. He
<PB N="225" REF="151"> hath bin victorious in this King|dome, and will be the &s;ame el&s;e|where when it &s;hall plea&s;e him: He can find nothing difficult, ha|ving &s;ubjected the <HI>French</HI> to rea|&s;on.</P>
<P>And certainly, when he &s;hall be &s;een in the head of his Armies, that he ranks his Souldiers him&s;elf, that he appoints their Quarter, that he cau&s;eth the Carriages to come, that he may &s;ee what places are conveni|ent to take, or to be quitted; when it &s;hall be he that gives all the char|ges, who makes the principall com|mands, who takes notice of the lea&s;t functions of every charge, things mu&s;t needs turn out of their ordi|nary cour&s;e, nor go the way they ought, if he thrived no better then the <HI>Princes</HI> who reigned at their ea&s;e in the bo&s;ome of a Wife, or of a Mi&s;tre&s;s, and who beholding their affaires no where, but in the di&s;pat|ches of their Lievetenants, expecting
<PB N="226" REF="152"> ordinarily the &s;ucce&s;s 300 Leagues from the warr.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="24" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXIV.</HEAD>
<P>YEt all this need not cau&s;e fear in any one, this throng of ver|tues will oppre&s;s no body; he hath a Con&s;cience &s;o tender, that it can &s;uffer no weight upon it, nor any thing that recedes never &s;o little from perfect equity: It mu&s;t fir&s;t be &s;atisfied before he can content his courage, and mu&s;t fir&s;t approve the de&s;ign which he hath, before he forme his re&s;olution.</P>
<P>He &s;ayes not to the <HI>Ca&s;ui&s;ts,</HI> find rea&s;ons wherefore I may go a&s;ide, and per&s;wade me that I am inno|cent, though I find my &s;elf guilty. The re&s;t and quiet of his &s;oul is not e&s;tabli&s;hed by &s;uch ea&s;ie means, not depends upon the &s;ubtilty of a Doctor. He is the Judge of others works, but the Tyrant (if I may &s;o &s;ay) of his own, and never does
<PB N="227" REF="152"> him&s;elf that favour, which others may &s;ometimes receive from him.</P>
<P>In the mo&s;t advantagious bu&s;i|ne&s;s which can be propo&s;ed to him, if he were a&s;&s;ured of the pro&s;perity of the &s;ucce&s;s, and were not certain of the goodne&s;s of the Cau&s;e, he would &s;top upon this difficulty, and couragiou&s;ly refu&s;e Scepters and Crowns if they were pre&s;ented to him; I do not &s;ay with a mortall &s;in which he were oblig'd to com|mit, but with one doubtfull action, and which had need of an expo&s;i|tion, le&s;t he might faile in the un|dertaking.</P>
<P>He fears not the oppo&s;itions of <HI>Princes,</HI> the Confederacies of <HI>Re|publicks,</HI> the Forces of many <HI>Kings</HI> a&s;&s;embled together again&s;t the Ju|&s;tice of his Armes. He fears not the injuries of the &s;ea&s;on, the difficulty of the places, a multitude of diffe|rent dangers which threaten his per|&s;on at the warr; But truly he fears God: And were there as many
<PB N="228" REF="153"> worlds indeed, as &s;ome <HI>Ph&icirc;lo&s;ophers</HI> have built in their fancy, to have them all, he would not offend him once.</P>
<P>This Fear hath nothing of Co|wardice and &s;oftne&s;&s;e; It may fall upon the &s;pirit of a man perfectly couragious, it is not contrary to true valour, it is not faintne&s;&s;e of heart, but &s;trength of judgment: It is not a pa&s;&s;ion, but a vertue; of which the Fathers have &s;poken, when they &s;ay, that in the &s;oul of a Chri&s;tian fear mu&s;t be the Guardian of Innocence; and the Apo&s;tle be|fore them, when he exhorts the <HI>Philippians</HI> to be carefull for their &s;alvation with fear and trembling: With this Fear the Holy <HI>Patriarchs</HI> were &s;ei&s;ed; tho&s;e hardy and mag|nanimous men, who wre&s;tled with Angels, who knew that they &s;hould be the Ance&s;tors of the Saviour of the World: Who were the friends, the Entertainers, the Familiars of God: And yet the privity which
<PB N="229" REF="153"> they had with him, took not away their fear, nor this neer acquaintance hinder them from being afraid of his Supream Ju&s;tice.</P>
<P>I have oftentimes admired in the Books of <HI>Mo&s;es</HI> tho&s;e &s;trange manner of &s;peeches: The God of <HI>Abraham,</HI> The God of <HI>I&s;aac,</HI> and the <HI>Feare</HI> of <HI>Jacob.</HI> And <HI>Jacob</HI> &s;ware by the <HI>Feare</HI> of <HI>I&s;aac</HI> his Father, that is to &s;ay, by the God of his Father.</P>
<P>The very place where God ap|peared to one of them, hath the name <HI>Fearfull,</HI> of a truth the <HI>Lord</HI> is in this place: He was afraid, and cryed, this place is <HI>Fearfull;</HI> and el&s;e|where, He that is terrible, who taketh away the heart of <HI>Princes,</HI> and is <HI>Fearfull</HI> to the <HI>Kings</HI> of the Earth; this in one word is God: And St. <HI>Paul</HI> &s;aith of <HI>Mo&s;es,</HI> that he was afraid and trembled, &s;o ter|rible was that which appeared unto him. So that it is &s;poken of <HI>Feare</HI> almo&s;t every where, where it is &s;po|ken
<PB N="230" REF="154"> of Divinity: And the&s;e admi|rable <HI>Per&s;onages</HI> who pre&s;ented them&s;elves with an a&s;&s;ured Confi|dence to the fury of the incen&s;ed people, who brav'd the anger of <HI>Kings,</HI> and de&s;pis'd the power of Devils, had &s;o great an apprehen|&s;ion of di&s;plea&s;ing God, that God is &s;imply called their <HI>Feare.</HI></P>
<P>Thus the <HI>King</HI> is fearfull, he hath the fear of wi&s;e and valiant men; he trembleth in the pre&s;ence of the Lord: His Maximes never offend the duties of Charity, his Politique Prudence is not contrary to the &s;im|plicity of Chri&s;tians; he hath &s;eated Integrity in the Throne, and re|membring that he is the Compa|nion of his Subjects in the &s;ervice of their great <HI>Ma&s;ter;</HI> and that the Care of his Salvation is his mo&s;t important bu&s;ine&s;s; he perceives that by right of a Servant the mo&s;t obliged ought to be the mo&s;t faith|full, and that it would be a mi&s;era|ble advantage for him to be able to
<PB N="231" REF="154"> &s;in with Authority; to obey nei|ther Lawes nor Rea&s;on, to make his Independance appear, to fill Annals and Hi&s;tories with his Conque&s;ts, and to be blotted out of the Book of Life.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="25" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXV.</HEAD>
<P>I Cannot conceale in this place my ju&s;t grief; it is very importunate to cry without cea&s;ing again&s;t the Times and the manners: I am troubled to meet in my way, <HI>Vice,</HI> the Enemy of that vertue which I &s;eek for, and not to be able to prai&s;e the <HI>King</HI> without blaming others.</P>
<P>But what way is there to &s;peak of <HI>Hercules,</HI> if there be no mention of <HI>Mon&s;ters?</HI> To con&s;ider a Con|queror without Enemies? To han|dle the Cure and Reformation of things, without telling what they were, and their di&s;ea&s;es, I cannot endure to &s;ee, that That hone&s;ty which I e&s;teem &s;o much, hath never
<PB N="232" REF="155"> bin &s;ufficiently e&s;teemed; and that bold or witty Inju&s;tice, hath al|wayes had approbation and part|ners.</P>
<P>The Republick le&s;&s;e corrupted of any in the world, authorized evill, provided it were done with &s;ome &s;ubtilty: In <HI>Lacedemon</HI> they did not puni&s;h tho&s;e that &s;tole, but tho&s;e that knew not how to do it neatly, and they were condemned for having bin idle and lazie, and not for having bin unju&s;t. I remem|ber I have &s;een in a place this pretty, definition of an Emba&s;&s;ador; An Emba&s;&s;ador is a grave man &s;ent a|broad to Lye for the Common|wealth. It is commonly maintain|ed, that of an ill Subject may be made a good <HI>Prince:</HI> And <HI>Cicero</HI> was offended, as if one had injur'd his reputation and honor, when <HI>Brutus</HI> call'd him an hone&s;t man: He complained to <HI>Atticus,</HI> their common Friend, in a Letter which he wrot him; and tells him he could
<PB N="233" REF="155"> not di&s;ge&s;t the har&s;hne&s;&s;e of that word, and in his opinion, if <HI>Catiline</HI> would have prai&s;ed him, he could <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ot haue done it wor&s;e.</P>
<P>For this once, I will blame a per|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">on, whom el&s;ewhere I infinitely re|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">pect, and who &s;hall be &s;acred and <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nviolable in every other occa&s;ion but this. There is not any prai&s;e I <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">alue &s;o much, as that which <HI>Cicero</HI> contemns, and I e&s;teem the good much more then the wi&s;e or valiant. Without goodne&s;&s;e They are Ser|pents, and The&s;e are Wolves; Wi&s;|dome is only a &s;ubtile poy&s;on, and <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> piercing con&s;umption; Valour an <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nraged hunger and thir&s;t of hu|mane bloud. The wi&s;e, if they are Subjects, betray their <HI>Prince</HI> and &s;ell the State; The valiant a&s;&s;ault his Per&s;on, and put them&s;elves in his place. The one do alwaies &s;u&s;pect him, the other alwaies feare him. If they are <HI>Princes,</HI> there is no &s;afe|ty in their Court, nor peace in their Kingdome. They di&s;quiet their
<PB N="234" REF="156"> Neighbours, and weary yet more their Subjects. Warr is neither ended by Treaty nor Victory: They keep their word no longer then they have the fir&s;t occa&s;ion to break it; nor are ever quiet, but when they are not able to &s;tirr. La&s;tly, the&s;e rare qualities which the world admires, re&s;emble tho&s;e glo|rious lights which &s;parkle in the aire, and &s;hed forth a pe&s;tilence up|on the earth. The&s;e vertues are e|vill and dangerous to the Common-wealth, or rather they are not ver|tues at all: And without doubt we mu&s;t re&s;t &s;atisfied with that in|fallible Oracle of Truth: That wi&s;dome entreth not into a malici|ous &s;oul: And el&s;ewhere it is &s;aid, <HI>That the Children of this generation are wi&s;er then the Children of light;</HI> And we read in the Go&s;pel of St. <HI>Luke,</HI> that the wicked Steward did many things prudently. Neverthe|le&s;&s;e, &s;eeing it is mo&s;t certain that humane wi&s;dome is fooli&s;hne&s;&s;e
<PB N="235" REF="156"> with God, and there is no more Prudence without his fear, then there can be a building without a foundation. We mu&s;t believe that in the&s;e pa&s;&s;ages our Lord &s;peaks tenderly with his Children, and ac|commodates him&s;elf to vulgar lan|guage. For as &s;ometimes we call tho&s;e white who are pale, and take fulne&s;&s;e of body for healthfulne&s;&s;e; &s;o many times we give certain vices the names of vertues which are neer unto them.</P>
<P>But fora&s;much as Empyricks are not received into the body of Phy|&s;itians, and Philo&s;ophers could ne|ver indure Sophi&s;ters, again&s;t whom they are &s;o eager in all their writings; Let us at lea&s;t be as forward as they, Seeing we are to draw the picture of a <HI>Prince</HI> who is not of the Race of the <HI>Otto|mans,</HI> but the Grand-child of Saint <HI>Lewis;</HI> &s;ince the <HI>King</HI> pre&s;erves him&s;elf pure in the mid&s;t of corrup|tion, and that he reignes by Chri&s;ti|an
<PB N="236" REF="157"> <HI>Maximes;</HI> Let us &s;toutly with&s;tand evill opinions, we are a&s;&s;ured He followes them not; Let us &s;tay awhile to conte&s;t with the vice of the Court, and tho&s;e great Nobles, with whom he hath no part. Let us not fear that he is di&s;|plea&s;'d at us, if we reckon not Cheaters among&s;t men of skill, and if we do not call vertue cunning.</P>
<P>Admit there be, if you will, an Art of Cozening, a learned and Di&s;ciplin'd naughtine&s;&s;e, a Sy&s;teme of Rules and Precepts to come to an evill end; let it be wit, know|ledge, experience: but let us not do this injury to wi&s;dome, to make her dwell in the mid&s;t of vices, nei|ther let us confine it in the Con|&s;cience of a wicked man.</P>
<P>See in what tearms &s;he &s;peaks of her &s;elf, in the book that bears her name: She that knoweth the time pa&s;t, and judgeth of that which is to come, who knoweth the &s;ubtilty of words, and the &s;olution of Ar|guments,
<PB N="237" REF="157"> who &s;eeth &s;igns and won|ders before they happen, and the e|vents of times and ages: She is a raye from God, and a pure influ|ence from the brightne&s;s of the Al|mighty; and therefore can have no filth in her; and a little Tower: She is the &s;plendor of the everla&s;ting light, the Image of the goodne&s;s of God, the &s;potle&s;s gla&s;s of his <HI>Ma|je&s;tie;</HI> and in another place it is &s;aid: The fear of the Lord is wi&s;|dome, and to depart from evill is under&s;tanding: And again, The Soul of the holy man declareth Truth, and &s;eeth more then &s;e|ven Watchmen &s;et upon a Moun|tain.</P>
<P>The <HI>Pagans</HI> generally were not of a contrary opinion, though they were not enlightned by faith, and walked only in the night; they have found the truth &s;ometimes by Torch-light. Among&s;t them, tho&s;e that had the righte&s;t opinions, and pa&s;&s;'d the &s;ounde&s;t judgment upon
<PB N="238" REF="158"> things, never divided Prudence from hone&s;ty; and though they believed that the extent of rea&s;on was more free, and le&s;s confin'd in the Politicks then in Morality; yet they conceived not, that That &s;pace mu&s;t be infinite, and that whatever is evill and forbidden in Families, is good and lawfull in the <HI>State;</HI> They have &s;aid, that the Gods had much more obliged men, in not gi|ving them this Rea&s;on, then to have be&s;towed it upon them to be preju|diciall to the world, and to tor|ment them&s;elves: That this beam of Divinity, this quick motion of the thought, this point which pier|ceth and penetrateth all things, were but a &s;ad pre&s;ent to them, and a pernicious liberality; if they &s;hould make u&s;e of it only to the dammage and lo&s;s of another, and if what they have common with the gods, render'd them more &s;avage and more mi&s;erable then the bea&s;ts. They have believed as well as us,
<PB N="239" REF="158"> that Loyalty is the foundation of all bu&s;ine&s;s and commerce, that by it we hold together one with ano|ther; that tho&s;e that are divided by the di&s;tance of place, by the diffe|rence of language, by the diver&s;ity of Religion, are united by the means of good faith and upright dealing: That a man may deale with dumb men, but not with perfidious; and &s;ilence is more &s;ociable then lying: They have held, that a man gain'd nothing by telling a lye, but not to be believed when he &s;peaks truth, leaving us this con&s;equence; that we mu&s;t be hone&s;t men of nece&s;&s;ity and out of Intere&s;t, when we cannot be by Inclination nor will; &s;ince evill is as unprofitable as di&s;hone&s;t, and the fir&s;t cheate ordinarily excludes the &s;econd; and confidence once lo&s;t, it is not po&s;&s;ible to hurt or profit any body.</P>
<P>In the Ancient Fables which were pre&s;ented, by authority of the Magi&s;trate, for the in&s;truction of
<PB N="240" REF="159"> the people, and which yet are the true mirrors of humane life, we &s;ee that the <HI>Hero's</HI> and <HI>Princes</HI> pro|te&s;t aloud, that they hate di&s;&s;em|bling more then death, and that there is no way whereby they be re&s;olved to deceive, even where Varlets are, and people of no ac|count, who are imployed to plot Trea&s;ons, and make windings and labyrinths; and though in &s;uch like actions there wants wit and &s;ubtil|ty: yet becau&s;e deceit is a tacite confe&s;&s;ion of weakne&s;s, which doth that in &s;ecret, which it dares not do openly; they &s;uppo&s;e it was not convenient to attribute it to great courages. So that <HI>Titus Livius</HI> is &s;harply reprehended by <HI>Seneca,</HI> for &s;aying of one of the Troublers of his Age, that he had a &s;pirit no le&s;&s;e great then wicked: It being im|po&s;&s;ible in the judgement of that Philo&s;opher, that the&s;e two quali|ties &s;hould &s;ub&s;i&s;t in one and the &s;ame &s;ubject; great and evill &s;eem|ing
<PB N="241" REF="159"> as contrary to him, as great and little.</P>
<P>But this is nothing to what hap|pened to <HI>Euripides,</HI> for that ver&s;e which he made <HI>Hyppolitus</HI> &s;peak in one of his Tragedies: <HI>I have &s;worn with my tongue, but not with my mind.</HI> For the next day after the Acting, he received a per&s;onall in|ditement, and was pro&s;ecuted with all the rigor of Ju&s;tice, as if he had bin willing to corrupt the manners of the <HI>Greeks,</HI> and teach the people perjury. Not that it was forbidden <HI>Tragick Poets</HI> to make evill Maximes proceed from wicked men, when they brought them up|on the Stage; but becau&s;e <HI>Hyppolitus</HI> was known for a perfect vertuous man, they thought that <HI>Euripides</HI> would authorize a lye by the ex|ample of &s;o grave a per&s;on, and &s;o much e&s;teemed; and to per|&s;wade the &s;pectators, in letting this vice run among many lauda|ble qualities, that unfaithfulne&s;s
<PB N="242" REF="160"> was not incompatible with Wi&s;|dome.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="26" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXVI.</HEAD>
<P><HI>ARi&s;totle</HI> makes mention of this Criminall Proce&s;s, and that the <HI>Deceivers</HI> of our time may know that they do wrong to pre|tend to <HI>Prudence,</HI> being unfurni&s;hed of other vertues, which are all emi|nently di&s;covered in the Per&s;on of the <HI>King.</HI></P>
<P>It will not be ami&s;&s;e, to &s;hew them their condemnation in the writings of this wi&s;e Governour of <HI>Alexander,</HI> who&s;e te&s;timony is &s;o much the rather to be received, be|cau&s;e he believes only in rea&s;on, ha|ving no revealed knowledg; and be&s;ides lived in a Court extreamly corrupted, and under a <HI>Prince</HI> as crafty at lea&s;t, and as &s;ubtle, as the Duke of <HI>Valentinois</HI> and King <HI>Lewis</HI> the XI. could be. Be&s;ides that, he di&s;tingui&s;heth between Pru|dence
<PB N="243" REF="160"> and &s;ubtilty of Spirit. In|a&s;much as This bears it &s;elf indiffe|rently towards good and evill: Whereas Prudence is con&s;tant and unchangeable in the &s;earch of good; and that he hath made one expre&s;&s;e chapter in the 7 Book of his <HI>Ethicks;</HI> wherein he proveth, that it is im|po&s;&s;ible to be Prudent and Inconti|nent both together. He ob&s;erveth moreover in another place, that in taking a&s;&s;under the compound word, whereby the <HI>Greeks</HI> expre&s;&s;e <HI>Temperance,</HI> we &s;hall find the Pri|mitive word to &s;ignifie the Guardi|an and Pre&s;erver of <HI>Prudence:</HI> Be|cau&s;e <HI>Temperance</HI> pre&s;erveth the &s;oundne&s;&s;e of Judgement, and procures it that galliard and lively di&s;po&s;ition, by which, without trou|bling or di&s;quieting it &s;elf, it knows what is &s;erviceable and what is hurtful to the &s;overaign good: Not that Intemperance corrupteth all kind of Judgement; for it is mo&s;t certain, that it corrupteth not tho&s;e
<PB N="244" REF="161"> things which lie in &s;peculation, but only tho&s;e which have practi&s;e for their object. As to be Intempe|rate, makes not a man unable to judge whether it be true or no, that a Triangle hath three Angls equall to two &s;treight ones, and that two Parallel lines, continued in Infini|tum, cannot be joyned together; But it makes him unable to judge, whether he ought to revenge an in|jury, or pardon it, Whether he &s;hould keep <HI>Helen,</HI> or re&s;tore her to her Husband; becau&s;e to judge well whether a thing be fea&s;ible or no, it is nece&s;&s;ary to know the end. Now he that is Intemperate, who&s;e judicative facultie, grief or plea&s;ure hath corrupted, cannot di&s;cerne that end, amid&s;t the continuall dazling which his evill pa&s;&s;ions cau&s;e in him.</P>
<P>True Prudence then is a Habite, w^c^h renders the under&s;tanding apt know, and practi&s;e tho&s;e things to which &s;erve to make a man happie:
<PB N="245" REF="161"> Which (as the &s;ame Philo&s;opher goes on) that other Habite, which we call Art, doth not effect; Be|cau&s;e its Function con&s;i&s;teth in working conformably to the Rules and Ordinances of Rea&s;on, and in doing things which are Morally good, and contribute to felicity: So that a Man may be a good Ar|ti&s;t, and yet not an hone&s;t Man; But a Man cannot be a Prudent Man, but withall he mu&s;t be an ho|ne&s;t Man; Becau&s;e a Man cannot be Prudent unle&s;&s;e he practi&s;e tho&s;e things that are Morally good. Moreover it is better to fail volun|tarily in an Art, then to fail igno|rantly: And contrarily, it is bet|ter to fail ignorantly again&s;t the Rules of Prudence, then voluntarily; &s;eeing tho&s;e things are not Morally good, to which Art is fixed, as tho&s;e are, to which Prudence is; and therefore a Man cannot err wil|lingly again&s;t the Rules which it pre&s;cribes, but he mu&s;t commit &s;ome
<PB N="246" REF="162"> vicious action; becau&s;e the failing lies in this, that he joynes him&s;elf to tho&s;e things which are Morally evill.</P>
<P>The&s;e and &s;uch like <HI>Maximes</HI> are found in the Books of Philo&s;ophers, who have bin mo&s;t frequent in the Court, and have had the neere&s;t ac|ce&s;&s;e to Great men: The other Families have not held a contrary opinion, nor hath any one of them approved a malicious Prudence: But tho&s;e latter <HI>Platonicks,</HI> that are of tho&s;e Fools who &s;ometimes are in their right wits, and who have &s;ome rationall intervals, de&s;erve to be heard in this bu&s;ine&s;&s;e: And in|deed again&s;t &s;uch a publick evill as this, we mu&s;t arme all &s;orts Ene|mies, and oppo&s;e again&s;t it what|ever can fight and combate it.</P>
<P>Having made &s;omething a long digre&s;&s;ion upon divers &s;orts of opi|nions, (which for this once I will e|&s;teem an effect of Heroicall Pru|dence) at la&s;t they propo&s;e one
<PB N="247" REF="162"> which is not to be rejected, and which makes greatly to our pre&s;ent &s;ubject. There are, as they reckon, be&s;ides Death, five kinds of Sepera|tions by which the Soul is divided from the Body; and is lifted &s;o far above mortall and peri&s;hable; that in this condition &s;he knows not only that which is farr off, but al&s;o that which never yet happened; It a&s;&s;i&s;ts not only to the birth and events of things, but to their Pro|jects and Conception. The fir&s;t of the&s;e Separations happens in &s;leep|ing, chiefly in &s;ober men, who by an ordinary ab&s;tinence do abate tho&s;e clouds, as it were, which ri&s;e from the inferiour part, hindering any trouble or contagion to ari&s;e to the &s;pirit; and beholding in their Ima|gination, as in a mo&s;t tran&s;parent Gla&s;&s;e, the objects which others cannot di&s;cover in theirs, which is all &s;ullied and defaced with the va|pors and &s;team of meats. The &s;e|cond, con&s;i&s;ts in an entire benum|medne&s;&s;e
<PB N="248" REF="163"> of the &s;pirits, and by that failing of the heart and breath, whereby people fall in a &s;woon: From whence proceeded tho&s;e Ex|ta&s;ies of <HI>Socrates,</HI> who remain'd &s;ometimes from Sun-ri&s;ing to Sun|&s;et, without moving at all; And tho&s;e of <HI>Plato,</HI> who u&s;ing to medi|tate in this &s;ort, dyed at la&s;t in that e&s;&s;ay of Death; And tho&s;e of one <HI>Enarchus,</HI> who having delivered up the gho&s;t, as was believed, came to him&s;elf again, and a&s;&s;ur'd them that he was well, but that <HI>Nichandus,</HI> the mo&s;t famous Champion of that time, &s;hould certainly die &s;uch a day, which came accordingly to pa&s;&s;e.</P>
<P>So pure and &s;ubtile a knowledge is formed from the &s;uperabundance of the melancholick humour, which is as proper to receive Divine In&s;pi|rations, and to be over&s;pread with cele&s;tiall fire, as dry and thin matters are more combu&s;tible then others: But it proceeds mo&s;t perfectly, &s;ay
<PB N="249" REF="163"> they, from the ju&s;t proportion of humors, and from that admirable internall harmony, in which the Spirit, like the Magi&s;trate in a well uinted Corporation where all the people are at agreement, finds no ob&s;tacle in his offices, and u&s;es with|out re&s;ervation or re&s;triction, the power which he hath received from his Soveraign.</P>
<P>The third <HI>Separation,</HI> if I mi&s;take not, comes from the repo&s;e and peace of &s;olitarine&s;s, where the &s;pi|rit e&s;caped from the Captivity of Cities, and di&s;charged of the weighty and trouble&s;ome employ|ments of life, beholds heaven more uncovered, and communicates more familiarly with God.</P>
<P>They believe that in this peacea|ble School <HI>Zoroa&s;ter</HI> &s;tudied tho&s;e 20 years in which he appear'd not, and learnt the Science of foretelling, which he left in his Books of Divi|nation, which are lo&s;t; and thus we are to under&s;tand the 10 years
<PB N="250" REF="164"> that <HI>Pythagoras</HI> was conceal'd, and tho&s;e 50 which <HI>Epimenides</HI> &s;lept, during which time their &s;oul, ha|ving no commerce with their &s;en&s;e, was vacant to a mo&s;t perfect man|ner of Philo&s;ophying, and already injoy'd the priviledge of Immorta|lity, and the liberties of another life.</P>
<P>The <HI>Platonicks</HI> do not end their <HI>Separations</HI> here, but from this they pa&s;&s;e to a fourth, which proceedeth from admiration, and a certain re|ligious horrour which filleth per&s;ons agitated with &s;ome Divinity, &s;uch as were the women whom they cal'd <HI>Pythiae,</HI> who drew out the knowledge of future things: For tran&s;ported as they were with their God coming to enter into their Grot, and thinking with a violent attention upon his pre&s;ence and his my&s;teries; they were &s;ei&s;ed with &s;o great an a&s;toni&s;hment, and po&s;&s;e&s;|&s;ed with &s;o &s;trange a &s;uper&s;tition, that pre&s;ently their &s;oul for&s;aking
<PB N="251" REF="164"> their body, and breaking all its chains, was carryed to the highe&s;t knowledge of &s;imple Spirits, and acted &s;upernaturally by the &s;trength of that divine fever.</P>
<P>Here our <HI>Platonicks</HI> leave off to dream, and their la&s;t manner of knowing future things is altogether for us; to wit, an intire victory o|ver evill pa&s;&s;ions; a perpetuall ab|&s;tinence from forbidden plea&s;ures, an inviolable cha&s;tity of Soul and Body, it being very credible, in their opinion; That God, who is purity it &s;elf, takes plea&s;ure to make his abode in the heart of the Cha&s;t; that he &s;ets up a light there which penetrateth the darkne&s;&s;e of future things, and that he hides from them none of his enterpri&s;es. To which al&s;o the Holy Fathers &s;eem to a&s;|&s;ent, and particularly St. <HI>Jerome,</HI> who holds that the <HI>Sybils,</HI> though otherwi&s;e Infidels, and &s;trangers to the people of God, received never|thele&s;s from him the gift of <HI>Prophe|cy,</HI>
<PB N="252" REF="165"> in honour of their Virginity, and for a Temporall reward of their vertues.</P>
<P>I will not &s;erve my turn with the&s;e opinions which I believe not, nor attribute the <HI>Prudence</HI> of the <HI>King,</HI> either to his &s;obriety, it being mo&s;t true, that he lives, as it were, only of &s;pirit, and that by the means of Temperance the &s;uperior part of his &s;oul enjoys a perpetuall &s;erenity; or to his removals from the City, whereof <HI>Hunting</HI> is com|monly the pretence, in which, with a calme &s;ight, and an unintere&s;&s;ed Judgment, he con&s;iders things in the purity of their being, which we behold but obliquely through our pa&s;&s;ions which trouble us, and in the infection of the world which al|tereth them.</P>
<P>I will no more attribute them to this quality &s;o proper to contempla|tion, and which fixeth it &s;elf in&s;e|parably to the objects which it em|braceth; to that Temperature &s;o
<PB N="253" REF="165"> e&s;teemed of by the <HI>Philo&s;ophers,</HI> which communicates nothing of weight, which can incline them to|wards the earth. For in effect, as there is an earthly melancholy which &s;ends up none but black and thick vapours to the brain, and fils it with nothing but phanta&s;mes, which bury the Soul in the matter; which cau&s;eth either continuall dreams, or often &s;tupidity; &s;o there is a well dige&s;ted and refined me|lancholy, which ca&s;ts forth a fire which neither burns nor &s;moaks; to which may be applyed that &s;aying of the Ancient, That dry light is mo&s;t lively and full of lu&s;tre. There is a &s;ubtile and ingenuous &s;adne&s;s, which hath bin even at Heaven to &s;earch for Truth, and at the foun|dations of the deep: which inven|ted Arts and Sciences, which for|med all the <HI>Statuas</HI> of <HI>Phidias,</HI> and brought forth all the Books of <HI>Ari|&s;totle;</HI> which carried <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> to u&s;urp the Liberty of his Countrey, and
<PB N="254" REF="166"> <HI>Brutus</HI> to deliver his Countrey from the power of <HI>Cae&s;ar;</HI> which, in a word, is the faire maladie of the &s;oul, and the mo&s;t common temper of <HI>Hero's, Saints,</HI> and other extraordinary men.</P>
<P>It is not therefore from thence, that I deduce the prudence of the <HI>King;</HI> I make it come from a more noble and clearer &s;pring: I believe with the Chri&s;tian <HI>Philo&s;ophers,</HI> that alwayes God hath had a mo&s;t &s;peciall care to enlighten the Cha&s;t and vertuous, and that the Spou&s;e is not more pleas'd among the Lillies, then the Eternall wi&s;|dome, that governs her, is pleas'd willingly to repo&s;e him&s;elf upon pure and innocent Souls: All other wi&s;dome which comes el&s;ewhere, is illegitimate and dangerous; all o|ther fires, though never &s;o pure and &s;parkling, deceive men in enlight|ning them, and lead them into ri|vers, or into precipices.</P>
<P>It were almo&s;t as good con&s;ult
<PB N="255" REF="166"> the Devils, and enquire after what's to come by Magick, as to have pre|&s;cience without hone&s;ty. Is it not to turn medicines into poy&s;ons, to u&s;e Rea&s;on to &s;in? To what pur|po&s;e is it to be &s;ubtle to invent He|re&s;ies which are wor&s;e then igno|rance? What &s;erves it for to be able to make a hurly-burly, if a man mu&s;t fir&s;t lo&s;e his own re&s;t to di&s;quiet anothers? To what purpo&s;e is it to have the cunning of <HI>Lodowick Sfor|za,</HI> and to be dextrous to ruine his State, which an ordinary Spirit had bin able to pre&s;erve by ea&s;ie and ge|nerall rules?</P>
<P>They &s;hall never per&s;wade me, that Quick-&s;ilver is better then Gold; nor that a turbulent and af|frighted Imagination, can be a &s;urer guide to manage bu&s;ine&s;&s;es, then a calme and well-re&s;olved Judgment; nor that the Prudence of <HI>Tyberius</HI> was better then that of <HI>Lewis</HI> the <HI>Ju&s;t:</HI> The one was bu&s;ied in a&s;&s;u|ring him&s;elf of that <HI>Old man</HI> whom
<PB N="256" REF="167"> he alwayes feared; It abandoned the care of affaires, and the Go|vernment of the <HI>Empire,</HI> to be at lei&s;ure to ob&s;erve only one man; It ravi&s;hed <HI>Germanicus</HI> from the whole earth: It cau&s;ed a &s;tranger <HI>Prince</HI> to be put to death, who came to <HI>Rome</HI> upon the Publick Faith. The other hath for its object the Univer&s;all good, and the Common felicity, nor is imployed but to maintain the things of the world in a good &s;tate, and to make Ju&s;tice raign; It de&s;ires no other advan|tage from its victories, but what procures reputation abroad, and a good con&s;cience at home.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="27" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXVII.</HEAD>
<P>VPon this, the feeble lean, and the weary re&s;t them&s;elves: His factious neighbours, who were &s;ub|ject to live in a continuall unquiet|ne&s;s, confide more in this for their &s;ecurity, then to the number of their
<PB N="257" REF="167"> Armies which they can bring into the field, and to their Alliances whereby they endeavor to &s;treng|then them&s;elves.</P>
<P>This admirable vertue which ter|rifies them at fir&s;t, &s;erves them for a bulwark again&s;t it &s;elf: They count it among the advantages which they think they have, and pre&s;erve them&s;elves le&s;&s;e by their Armes, then by the hone&s;ty of their Enemy. His Ju&s;tice hath the di|rection and guidance of his valour; This might overturn all, if That did not &s;upport all: Without this Counterpoize no body could be a&s;|&s;ured of his condition. Chri&s;tianity, whereof he makes a mo&s;t &s;erious profe&s;&s;ion, limits the deportment of his courage, tames in his &s;pirit that fiercene&s;s which is born with <HI>Hero's,</HI> and enthrals, as I may &s;o &s;ay, his Ambition and bold|ne&s;s, which, without doubt, would make a wonderfull progre&s;s if they acted in their full liberty, and with
<PB N="258" REF="168"> the whole extent of their power. I<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> toucheth not another mans goods, knowing very well, that God hath taken it into his particular protecti|on, by one of the Commandements of the <HI>Decalogue.</HI> He ravi&s;heth not, living under Laws which permit not &s;o much as to de&s;ire; he takes no care to commit Tyrannicall actions, &s;eeing he believes not lawfull to con|ceive unju&s;t wi&s;hes.</P>
<P>And to &s;peak &s;oberly, it may &s;eem that God hath an intention, that he alone &s;hall have the Univer|&s;all <HI>Monarchy,</HI> nor that any other hands but his &s;hall bear up that frame which he hath built: He finds it not good, that men &s;hould enter|pri&s;e to change the order which he hath e&s;tabli&s;hed among them; That the la&s;t Commers &s;hould di&s;pute the places which he hath already be|&s;towed, and trouble the <HI>Oeconomi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> of the Univer&s;e, whereof he is th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Author: violent Dominions plea&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> him not; He had rather his &s;houl<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">
<PB N="259" REF="168"> &s;uffer wrong, then do it; and is &s;o farr from permitting them to live of the prey, that he coun&s;els them to live of almes; He recommends nothing to us but peace, love, and charity: He &s;ent not the Holy Gho&s;t in forme of an <HI>Eagle,</HI> but of a <HI>Dove;</HI> and his only Sonne who came to redeem the world, and at once to bury the Synagogue, and to tread under foot all Infidelity, did &s;o much e&s;teem lawfull power, that being to call him&s;elf a <HI>King,</HI> and to do &s;trange things; he would be born of the Royall Blood, nor did contemn the ordinary wayes, that his Empire might not appear an u|&s;urpation, and that by humane rea|&s;on he might defend the Title which was given him.</P>
<P>I wonder not, that the <HI>Princes</HI> who will not acknowledg the God-head of Chri&s;t, do e&s;trange them&s;elves from his example, and are not &s;ub|ject to a Law which they have not received. The <HI>Mahometans</HI> think
<PB N="260" REF="169"> they merit when they kill &s;trangers, and their Cruelty is one of the Prin|ciples of their Religion: They make no &s;cruple to conquer, becau&s;e there|in they do nothing but what their Prophet exhorted them to; and it is to Per&s;ecutors, and not to Mar|tyrs that he promi&s;eth a better life after this.</P>
<P>This Cheater, who provided for nothing in his Religion but tempo|rall Greatne&s;&s;e and a pre&s;ent good, and who dreamt rather of mar|&s;hall Souldiering, then of &s;aving &s;ouls, bani&s;heth from his Paradi&s;e all peaceable per&s;ons, and names tho&s;e Cowards whom our Lord calls Ju&s;t. Let no man, &s;aith he, turne his back, unle&s;&s;e it be to take advantage, upon pain of incurring divine indignation: For it is re|qui&s;ite that the brave Champions of God and of his Prophet remaine firme at the encounter of two Ar|mies, and in &s;o doing they &s;hall ob|tain a generall pardon for all their their faults.</P>
<PB N="261" REF="169">
<P>In another place, he &s;aith, Are you of opinion that the entrance of Heaven &s;hall be open to you, if fir&s;t you give not good proof that you are Magnaminous and Valiant Warriors? No, my Friends, a&s;&s;ure your &s;elves, God loves none but the Valiant; That he is truly happie who dies in the Warr; and if you fini&s;h your dayes there, your death &s;hall be worthily rewarded; if you &s;hall be willing to live again, that you may once more be &s;lain: And a little before, he Authorizeth his Tyranny by the expre&s;&s;e command of God, whom he brings in &s;peak|ing thus: And Thou my Prophet; Go fight, and overcome the Incre|dulous, Pillage them, Sack them, handle them with rods of Iron, that they may fear; for all is the Pro|phets, and his faithfull Souldiers.</P>
<P>So that, by this meanes, imagin|ing the world is their Inheritance, and that the whole po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion thereof belongs to them; they be|lieve
<PB N="262" REF="170"> they never u&s;urp over another, but recover only that which hath bin u&s;urped from them; That they do no injurie to any body, but cea&s;e only to receive one; that it is per|mitted to them to re-enter upon their goods by tho&s;e meanes that &s;eem &s;horte&s;t and mo&s;t convenient for them; That there is nothing more lawfull for them, then what God him&s;elf hath adjudged, and that they may u&s;e that right which their Law-Giver hath left them o|ver all the Kingdomes of the Earth. For it is one of their vi&s;ions, that as he came out of his Mothers wombe, An Angel brought him three keyes made of three great Pearls, whereof one was the key of Lawes, another the key of Prophe|cy, and the third that of Victory; Which he &s;eizing upon, &s;eiz'd al&s;o the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of all the&s;e things But to &s;peak truth, the la&s;t gave power to the two fir&s;t, and if he had not overcome, he had neither
<PB N="263" REF="170"> bin believed, nor followed.</P>
<P>The whole de&s;ign of his Religion relates to Victories, his Prophecies are only favourable to Conque|rours; The mo&s;t part of his Laws are militarie Ordinances; he ac|knowledgeth none for his, but the violent and unju&s;t: And that he may drive them more &s;trongly to the de&s;olation of Kingdomes, it was not enough for this Impo&s;tor to declare unto them, that they might conquer with a &s;afe Con&s;cience; but he brands them with a kind of Infamy, when they content them|&s;elves with their own Line in peace: From whence it comes to pa&s;&s;e, that it is not permitted to the <HI>Ottoman Princes</HI> to found an Ho&s;|pitall nor to make a <HI>Mo&s;que,</HI> if fir&s;t they have not gained a Conque&s;t, to which it is nece&s;&s;ary that them&s;elves were pre&s;ent. Where|upon it is that the <HI>Mufty,</HI> and the other inferiour Interpreters of their prophane Ceremonies, u&s;ed all their
<PB N="264" REF="171"> Credit towards the <HI>Sultan Acme&punc;</HI> who never had bin at the Warr to hinder the &s;tructure of the Temple which he was building, which there|fore was &s;urnamed by the Lawyers, The <HI>Incredulous Mo&s;que,</HI> becau&s;e he was &s;o ob&s;tinate as to fini&s;h it a|gain&s;t the authority of their Tradi|tions, and the Remon&s;trances which they made to him.</P>
<P>I find it not &s;trange that the <HI>Turks</HI> do invade the Lands of their Neighbours, upon this fal&s;e per&s;wa|&s;ion which they have to do Acts of Piety, and to find them&s;elves obli|ged according to their Law, as al&s;o by the honor of their Con&s;cience: But fora&s;much as <HI>Je&s;us Chri&s;t</HI> hath nothing common with <HI>Mahomet,</HI> and that the <HI>Pope</HI> and the <HI>Mufty</HI> hold <HI>Maximes</HI> directly oppo&s;ite; I cannot comprehend how Chri&s;ti|ans believing in the Go&s;pel &s;hould follow the <HI>Alcoran;</HI> I cannot &s;o much as gue&s;&s;e at the rea&s;ons they can have, &s;o cruelly to fall upon the
<PB N="265" REF="171"> &s;laughter of the life and liberty of their Brethren; nor do I know in what time, nor by the emi&s;&s;ion of what <HI>Angel</HI> they have obtained a di&s;pen&s;ation of their fir&s;t Laws, and a permi&s;&s;ion to violate Ju&s;tice. In our Religion, Rea&s;on and Equity ought to be the bounds of the wills of <HI>Kings,</HI> as Rivers and Mountains are of their Kingdomes; They &s;hould put in the &s;ame ranke things unju&s;t and impo&s;&s;ible: And &s;ince it is no imperfection in God, that he cannot &s;in, &s;o neither &s;hould it be in them a defect of power, that they cannot do evill. What ap|pearance is there that &s;mall faults &s;hould be puni&s;hed, and great ones honored: That the Enormou&s;|ne&s;&s;e of the Action &s;hould be that which authorizeth the Crime, and ju&s;tifieth the Criminal; and that a poor Fellow who &s;eeks only to get his living upon the Sea with one Bark, &s;hould be call'd a Pirate, and wi&s;h'd ill by every one; and that a|nother
<PB N="266" REF="172"> who followes the &s;ame Trade with a pui&s;&s;ant Navie &s;hould be an Emperor, and prai&s;ed of all the world.</P>
<P>Certainly there is no appearance of equity in it; And we ought ab|&s;olutely to reject the &s;entence of the Tragick Poet &s;o often chanted up|on the <HI>Theaters,</HI> and &s;o familiar in the mouth of a Tyrant; That in matter of <HI>State,</HI> and to command, it is lawfull to violate right, but it mu&s;t be ob&s;erved in any thing el&s;e: Ca&s;ting my eyes back upon this pretty &s;entence, and looking &s;ome|thing neerer upon it, I find not much &s;en&s;e in it, and yet is it more ab&s;urd then dangerous. For if it be true, as they hold in the&s;e times, that other wickedne&s;&s;es are com|prehended in Tyrannie, as the le&s;&s;er numbers in the greater, and that it is the ruine and di&s;&s;olution of the body Politick; How is it po&s;&s;ible to pre&s;erve one part of Ju&s;tice, and to de&s;troy the whole? To admit
<PB N="267" REF="172"> the accompli&s;hment and the la&s;t degree of evill, and to exclude thence the Principles and the Ele|ments? To think to retain life at the end of a finger, when the Bo|dy is already dead and fallen in pieces? Whoever &s;peaks thus, cer|tainly hath no under&s;tanding, nor agrees with him&s;elf: He &s;eems to defend &s;omething in &s;hew, but grants all in effect, and &s;aith, though it be not his intention to &s;ay it, that there mu&s;t &s;peciall care be had, not to be perjur'd or &s;acrilegious, or a Parricide &s;everally, but that a man may be lawfully all three toge|ther; and &s;o become Innocent by the exce&s;s and number of his faults.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="28" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXVIII.</HEAD>
<P>THe Ancient Idolaters, who had only &s;ome light gue&s;&s;es, and &s;imple conjectures of true vertue, and who con&s;equently were not
<PB N="268" REF="173"> tyed to &s;o perfect an uprightne&s;s as we are, have condemned the&s;e Ty|rannicall &s;peeches before us. They tried, at lea&s;t, to ground them&s;elves upon Rea&s;on, when they &s;et upon any People, and &s;aid not barely that the end of their Conque&s;ts was to conquer.</P>
<P>It was an opinion generally re|ceived among the <HI>Greeks,</HI> that Warr was permitted again&s;t the <HI>Barba|rians;</HI> whereof there were two &s;orts, and which they ordinarily &s;e|parated into two Cla&s;&s;es: For though their vanity extended this word to all tho&s;e that &s;pake not their language, nor were governed according to their Cu&s;tomes, yet giving it &s;ometimes a more &s;trict and limited &s;ignification, and re|&s;training it to fewer per&s;ons, they under&s;tood by it only the <HI>Medes,</HI> or the <HI>Per&s;ians,</HI> with whom they al|wayes had dealing, or the furthe&s;t Nations of the world, who lived without Laws and di&s;cipline, in the
<PB N="269" REF="173"> ignorance and Infirmity of Nature not at all a&s;&s;i&s;ted by Education.</P>
<P>Now it is very true, they had no great rea&s;on to love the former, becau&s;e they were the Immortall Enemies of their name and Coun|trey, which they had invaded many times with fire and &s;word, of which they had no con&s;tant and perpetuall de&s;ign to render them&s;elves Ma|&s;ters, and who de&s;ired with all their power, that the <HI>King</HI> of <HI>Per|&s;ia</HI> might be adored by the <HI>Grecian Prie&s;ts,</HI> and &s;erved by the <HI>Lacede|monian</HI> &s;laves. Thus &s;o high an In|&s;olence pricked them on very lively, and the hatred they bore them was &s;uch, that in all their A&s;&s;emblies be|fore they deliberated of any thing, they publickly cur&s;ed him that &s;hould be of opinion they might make friend&s;hip or Alliance with them: And in their more &s;olemnu Fea&s;ts, the <HI>Herauld</HI> had an expre&s;s charge to declare them excommunicated, no le&s;s then homicides and &s;acrilegious
<PB N="270" REF="174"> per&s;ons, and to forbid all &s;trangers in con&s;ideration of them, the u&s;e of holy things, and participation of their My&s;teries.</P>
<P>For the other <HI>Barbarians</HI> of whom I &s;peak, they have &s;o ill an opinion, and e&s;teem them &s;o little, that they will &s;carce believe them to be Men, or that they have a Soul wholly rea&s;onable; At which I am not much a&s;toni&s;hed, &s;ince in our memory in the Schools of <HI>Spain</HI> they di&s;puted, if the <HI>Indians</HI> were of the race of <HI>Adam,</HI> or were not a middle ba&s;tard &s;pecies between a Man and an Ape. Be it then, that in their opinion they were not crea|tures like them&s;elves, they concei|ved they went only to hunt, and gave them&s;elves to an hone&s;t exer|ci&s;e when they made warr again&s;t them; or be it that they were in|deed Men, though not very perfect nor compleat (be&s;ides that, both ho|ly &amp; prophane Philo&s;ophie do both agree, that the wi&s;e Man is by na|ture
<PB N="271" REF="174"> Ma&s;ter of him that is not,) they imagined, that the right of humani|ty exacted from them the ayds and &s;uccors which are due to per&s;ons that want them, and that they them&s;elves &s;hould be <HI>Barbarians,</HI> if they had not pitty upon tho&s;e who truly were &s;o, and took not from them that vicious liberty which en|tertained them in their bruti&s;h di&s;po&s;itions to the di&s;honour of Common nature. They did believe they u&s;ed charity towards them to &s;ubject them to their Dominion, &s;ee|ing that by their victory they poli&s;h|ed the rudene&s;s of their manners; They taught them vertue which they had no knowledg of, and gave them good Laws in place of their ill Cu&s;tomes: Thus to &s;ome they brought the Invention of Arts, and &s;hewed them the u&s;e of husbandry; others they drew from Caves to place them in Cities. Upon &s;ome they impo&s;ed Tribute, never more to &s;acrifice their Children; &s;ome
<PB N="272" REF="175"> they obliged to ab&s;tain from hu|mane fle&s;h, and to have re&s;pect to the bed of their <HI>Mothers</HI> and <HI>Si|&s;ters,</HI> teaching them in the &s;ame time to u&s;e innocent meates and lawfull plea&s;ures.</P>
<P>But if this change could not be made by fair means, and if the Ty|ranny of the Habite were &s;uch, that they mu&s;t be con&s;train'd to be hap|py, in&s;tead of being mi&s;erable: They &s;aid that all great Examples have &s;omething unju&s;t in them, which are not to be con&s;idered in re&s;pect of the Univer&s;all good: Nei|ther can deceit be called evill when it is profitable to him that is decei|ved, nor violence de&s;erve that name when it turns to the profit and ad|vantage of him who is enforced. And as there are &s;ome things that &s;urpa&s;&s;e Rea&s;on, which are not therefore unrea&s;onable, e&s;pecially in matters of Religion; So all that is above Ju&s;tice, is not therefore un|ju&s;t, e&s;pecially in acts of State:
<PB N="273" REF="175"> And to come to the wor&s;t, when their enterprize drew after it the greate&s;t part of the vanqui&s;hed, at lea&s;t, their Children received the effect of the good intention of their Conquerors, in as much as they &s;hould be nouri&s;hed in the feare of the Gods, and under the reverence of the Laws, and injoy the fruit which was pre&s;ented to their Fa|thers.</P>
<P>The&s;e are &s;omewhat neer the rea|&s;ons upon which the <HI>Greeks</HI> might re&s;t them&s;elves in their Conque&s;ts. For the proceedings of the <HI>Romans</HI> we have couch'd them in part alrea|dy; But though they had all for their end, the greatne&s;s of their Empire, yet they were not &s;o blinded with Avarice, nor &s;o wedded to their own Intere&s;ts, that through the tra|ver&s;es of profit, they did not &s;ee the beauty of true Glory; that they were not tempted with that pa&s;|&s;ion which at this day po&s;&s;e&s;&s;eth the <HI>King,</HI> and that &s;ometimes they did
<PB N="274" REF="176"> not take up Armes for the Liberty of others.</P>
<P>Can there be imagined a more generous decree, and more nece&s;&s;ary to be renewed in this &s;ea&s;on, then that which was given by the <HI>Athe|nians,</HI> at the in&s;tance of the Orator <HI>Demo&s;thenes?</HI> See the &s;ub&s;tance of it in few words: When <HI>King Philip</HI> a&s;&s;aulted &s;ome places over which he had &s;ome right, the people of <HI>Athens</HI> did not conceive them&s;elves obliged to intervene in that occa&s;ion, nor to meddle in a bu&s;ine&s;s that did not at all concern them: but now that <HI>Greece</HI> it &s;elf is a&s;&s;aulted, they ac|count it a thing unworthy the glory of their Predece&s;&s;ors, who behold about them <HI>Grecian</HI> Cities which are not free: For this rea&s;on the Coun&s;el and the People of <HI>Athens</HI> have judged it expedient to &s;acrifice to the Gods, and to the <HI>Tutelar Hero's</HI> of the Town and Countrey; and animated by the Genero&s;ity of their Ance&s;tors, to whom the pub|lick
<PB N="275" REF="176"> Liberty hath alwayes bin dearer then the particular good of their Countrey; have ordained that there be &s;et to Sea 200 Ve&s;&s;els, that the Admirall &s;hall &s;aile towards the <HI>Thermopyles,</HI> and the Generall by Land conduct his <HI>Cavalrie</HI> and <HI>In|fanterie</HI> towards <HI>Eleu&s;ina:</HI> That moreover Emba&s;&s;adors be di|&s;patch'd towards the other free States of <HI>Greece,</HI> to fortifie them in the de&s;ign which they ought to have to maintain their Liberty, to exhort them not to be terrified at the Threats of the Enemy, and to a&s;&s;ure them that the <HI>Athenians</HI> are re&s;olved to &s;uccor with Men, Mo|ney, Armes, and Ammunition all tho&s;e that <HI>Philip</HI> would oppre&s;s.</P>
<P>After a long revolution of years, another <HI>Philip</HI> having the &s;ame de|&s;ign that the former had (&s;o fatall is this name to the Publick <HI>Liberty</HI>) the <HI>Romanes</HI> proclaim'd Warr a|gain&s;t him, and having overcome him, the Fea&s;t of the <HI>I&s;tmian Games</HI>
<PB N="276" REF="177"> falling by chance at that time, and being celebrated at <HI>Corinth,</HI> where there was pre&s;ent a great Concour&s;e of People, they made Proclamation in a full <HI>Theater,</HI> of this that fol|lowes.</P>
<P>The <HI>Senate</HI> of <HI>Rome,</HI> and the <HI>Generall Flaminius,</HI> having put the <HI>Macedonians</HI> and <HI>King Philip</HI> in their duty, declare; That their <HI>In|tention</HI> is, that all <HI>Greece</HI> live here|after according to the Laws, and under&s;tand particularly, that the <HI>Corinthians, Phocians, Locrians,</HI> Tho&s;e of the I&s;land of <HI>Euboea,</HI> the <HI>Magnetes, Perrhebes,</HI> and the <HI>Achaians</HI> of <HI>Phtia</HI> enjoy the &s;ame Immunities, Rights and Priviledges which they enjoyed before <HI>Phi|lip</HI> had &s;ei&s;ed upon their Domi|nion.</P>
<P>And though &s;ome, to ob&s;cure the Lu&s;tre of this Action, will &s;ay, that the Liberty wherewith they pre&s;en|ted them, was rather an apparent and counterfeit Liberty, then true
<PB N="277" REF="177"> and &s;olid; yet alwayes it was much to undertake a warr at their own co&s;t, to better their condition who were nothing at all to them: It was extreamly to oblige them, to re&s;cue them from &s;lavery, though otherwi&s;e they left them in &s;ome kind of dependance toward their Protectors; It was not to entreat them ill, to ea&s;e them of a load un|der which they &s;unk down, to give them a le&s;&s;er burthen.</P>
<P>The <HI>Romanes</HI> therefore took not all for them&s;elves; Their ambition had &s;ome Rules and limits; and though their mind and their de&s;ires were va&s;t, yet they were not infi|nite. When <HI>Scipio</HI> the <HI>Cen&s;or</HI> made the <HI>Ceremony</HI> of the expired <HI>Lu|&s;trum,</HI> and the <HI>Regi&s;ter</HI> was going to rehear&s;e the u&s;uall Prayer where|by the Gods were intreated to ren|der the fortune of the People of <HI>Rome</HI> better and more powerfull then it was; It is good enough and great enough an&s;wered he: I only
<PB N="278" REF="178"> pray that it would plea&s;e them to continue it to us; and ordain'd up|on the place, that in the publick Acts they &s;hould correct the forme of the Prayer, which after|wards was no otherwi&s;e reci|ted: So that there was a mo|deration and a &s;top in the hearts of the mo&s;t covetous and mo&s;t ambi|tious.</P>
<P>The <HI>Greeks</HI> and <HI>Romanes</HI> bore at lea&s;t a re&s;pect to the Name of vertue; They did not openly make a mock of Right and Equity, and made profe&s;&s;ion not to take up Armes but in the&s;e three Ca&s;es; ei|ther to revenge Injuries received, or to defend them&s;elves from oppre&s;|&s;ion, or to give Laws to them that had none, approving con&s;equently no warrs but ju&s;t, or nece&s;&s;ary, or hone&s;t.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="29" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="279" REF="178">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXIX.</HEAD>
<P>GOod God! What re&s;emblance is there with this in the pre&s;ent condition of the Affaires of <HI>Europe?</HI> What is there in the cau&s;e of the Conquerors of this Age, that a good <HI>Pagan</HI> can maintain, or that a good Chri&s;tian dare excu&s;e?</P>
<P>I &s;ee I mu&s;t once more impeach Tyranny, and pur&s;ue it to its inmo&s;t retreats, even into the heart of his Subjects, and &s;ee whether the Nati|on be more Innocent then the Coun&s;el. The <HI>Germans,</HI> are they the &s;ame to the <HI>Spaniards,</HI> that the <HI>Per|&s;ians</HI> were to the <HI>Greeks?</HI> Have they almo&s;t over-run <HI>Galice</HI> or <HI>Ar|ragon?</HI> Have they pillaged the Churches of <HI>Madrid?</HI> Have they demanded Slaves from <HI>Ca&s;tile?</HI> Be&s;ides, what right have the <HI>Ca&s;til|lians</HI> over <HI>Montferrat?</HI> Do they take the People that inhabite the River <HI>Poe</HI> for Savages? Will they
<PB N="280" REF="179"> Civilize the <HI>Jtalians</HI> who keep a School of Gentility &amp; Gallantry, &amp; with whom for a long time all no|velties are grown old? They cannot make u&s;e of the&s;e pretences, nor im|ploy the Colours of the <HI>Grecians</HI> to cover their Ambition, and to paint it with &s;ome &s;hew of vertue: There is nothing but a de&s;ire to become Ma|&s;ters of other mens Habitations, which makes them go out of their own; and this unhappie fancie of a Univer&s;al <HI>Monarchie</HI> which is put into their head, which hath made them undertake de&s;ign upon de&s;ign, and run after the lea&s;t noi&s;e they perceive. In the mid&s;t of peace they have the &s;pirit of Warr, and a &s;editious will; and when others think they are at re&s;t, they plot only how they may be more active: The rea&s;ons of State Torment them day and night; They are leane and &s;ick only for this: and their perpetuall yel<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">owne&s;&s;e is an internal &s;ign, and a violent impre&s;&s;ion of that
<PB N="281" REF="179"> Covetou&s;ne&s;&s;e to reign, which burns and con&s;umes them within.</P>
<P><HI>Gon&s;olva</HI> of <HI>Corduba,</HI> and the Duke of <HI>Alva</HI> are indeed dead, but their Coun&s;els and their In&s;tructi|ons live &s;till: They yet lay Am|bu&s;hes to freedome and credulity; They yet oppre&s;s <HI>Princes,</HI> and make Warr again&s;t the liberty of the People. The Children do not de|generate from their Parents; They are as &s;ubtle Interpreters of their Treaties; They are as little &s;crupu|lous in the ob&s;ervation of the Pub|lick Faith: They u&s;e their Religion after the &s;ame manner: They &s;wear as boldly upon the Go&s;pels and the Altars all that they are re|&s;olv'd not to performe.</P>
<P>For all this we mu&s;t render an entire Te&s;timony to truth, and do equitie even to inju&s;tice it &s;elf. The <HI>Spaniards</HI> are a People of no &s;mall Reputation; They are to be com|mended for many good qualities, and their very vices are &s;pecious
<PB N="282" REF="180"> and carrie a kind of lu&s;tre with them. That Idlene&s;&s;e which was puni&s;hed at <HI>Athens,</HI> is honored in <HI>Spain,</HI> which remains de&s;art and barren in many places for want of hands to Till and husband it. Ar|ti&s;ts in that Countrey are a&s;hamed of their Trade; They exerci&s;e it in &s;ecret, as a thing forbidden, and ap|peare in publick with their &s;words by their &s;ides: They account them|&s;elves all Gentlemen, and they all &s;peak like Courtiers and Coun&s;el|lors of State; The meane&s;t Bur|ge&s;&s;e hath the &s;ame thoughts with the Con&s;table of <HI>Ca&s;tile;</HI> They never bemoane the mi&s;ery of their condition, becau&s;e they believe they have a &s;hare in the greatne&s;s of their Ma&s;ter: There is no man holds him&s;elf poor, when he but thinks of the <HI>Mines</HI> of <HI>India,</HI> and who &s;eeks not in the publick happi|ne&s;&s;e the content which he cannot find in his own particular fortune. I would to God we were as good
<PB N="283" REF="180"> <HI>French-men,</HI> as they are good <HI>Spa|niards;</HI> and that we loved our Countrey with as much pa&s;&s;ion as they do theirs. Never imagin that they decry the affaires of their <HI>Prince</HI> as we do, and publi&s;h news no way favourable to their Partie. But contrarily if there happens to <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">hem the lea&s;t good &s;ucce&s;&s;e, they iugment it, they amplifie it, and <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">au&s;e it to be Printed in all Langua|ges; and if there chance any ill luck <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">hey excu&s;e it, dimini&s;h and di&s;gui&s;e <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">t, they cover it with their &s;ilence, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nd hide it under a good face. You &s;ee they make triumphs for the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">aking of any paultry Town, and <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ever appear dejected for the lo&s;&s;e of their Fleets and Armies. As <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">he&s;e know how to give reputation <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">o &s;mall things, and add value to <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">eane pro&s;perities; &s;o the&s;e are able <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">o witne&s;&s;e their in differency in <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">heir greate&s;t griefs, and couragi|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">u&s;ly and with di&s;dain indure the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ruelle&s;t outrages of fortune.</P>
<PB N="284" REF="181">
<P>Their Fidelity begins not now to be known, it hath bin prai&s;ed by the Te&s;timony of Antiquitie, and it is written of them, that Torments have not bin able to draw out of their mouthes, their Ma&s;ters, or Friends &s;ecrets. That Slave is &s;uf|ficiently famous, who after he had revenged his Benefactor, began to laugh when they put him to exami|nation; and with calme joy mock|ed at the Executioners and all their inventions of Cruelty. But what reputation can equall the vertue of <HI>Flexio,</HI> and what &s;o honorable mention can be made by Hi&s;torie which will not come &s;hort of his merit! King <HI>Sanches,</HI> again&s;t whom his Brother <HI>Alphon&s;o</HI> made Warr, had placed him in <HI>Conimbra</HI> to defend it. This faithfull Servant, after he had bin a long time nou|ri&s;hed with Leather and Urine, and had con&s;tantly indured all the in|conveniences of a Siege, would not for all this &s;urrender him&s;elf, nor
<PB N="285" REF="181"> give up the Town to the power of <HI>Alphon&s;o,</HI> though his Brother <HI>San|ches</HI> were dead. He would not tru&s;t any thing that could be &s;aid to him thereof; and continued in this vertu|ous incredulity, till he was permit|ted to go to <HI>Toledo</HI> where his Ma|&s;ter was buried; who&s;e Tombe being opened to him, he put the Keyes of the place between his hands.</P>
<P>For their Ab&s;tinence and &s;obrie|ty, it is almo&s;t incredible that is re|ported of them; every hearbe &s;erves them for meat, all juyce &s;erves them for oyle, all liquor is wine; there|fore we &s;ee not among them fat and corpulent per&s;ons.: In one <HI>Swi&s;&s;e</HI> there is enough to make three <HI>Spa|niards;</HI> Their foul &s;wims not in the blood, nor is &s;tifled by the fle&s;h and fatne&s;s of their body; they are al|wayes content with a very &s;lender nouri&s;hment: In the time of <HI>Pliny,</HI> their choice di&s;hes were Acorns ro&s;ted in the embers; Now with a Raddi&s;h or bunch of Fennell
<PB N="286" REF="182"> they are twice 24 houres in a facti|on; They die of hunger, and com|mand over tho&s;e that make good cheare.</P>
<P>Behold what is worthily e&s;teem|ed among&s;t them: But what means is there to indure their pride which they bring into the world with them? This &s;econd originall &s;in, in which they are conceived; This e&s;&s;entiall property by which they are <HI>Spaniards,</HI> as by Rea&s;on Men; They generally condemne what&s;o|ever is not of their own Countrey, nor can they believe, that out of it there is any thing fair, or valiant, or Catholique; They look upon other people with pity, and though <HI>Spain</HI> be the Mother but of few Children, and that &s;he adopts the <HI>Walloons,</HI> the <HI>Germanes,</HI> and the <HI>Italians,</HI> with which &s;he fils her Armies, yet they cea&s;e not to con|temn the&s;e Nations by whom they are formidable, and to call them <HI>Veillacos,</HI> who make them to over|come
<PB N="287" REF="182"> and bear rule.</P>
<P>Is it not a plea&s;ure to hear them &s;ay &s;ometimes, that their Army con&s;i&s;ts of 30 thou&s;and Men, and 5000 Souldiers, that is, of 30 thou|&s;and Strangers, and 5000 <HI>Spani|ards?</HI> and to &s;ee the&s;e braggado|cioes renew the vanitie of the <HI>Ro|mane Princes,</HI> who made a diffe|rence between their Confederates and their Souldiers, nor ever com|municated this la&s;t name to their <HI>Auxiliaries</HI> which they took to the warr with them.</P>
<P>They are indeed, more truly then the <HI>Romanes,</HI> Robbers of all Lands, and Pyrats of all Seas: Their am|bition is not content with the po&s;|&s;e&s;&s;ion of vi&s;ible things; It &s;earch|eth after an unknown worid. It hath penetrated, as it were, to a new nature: And if they were cer|tain that tho&s;e great &s;pots which appear in the body of the <HI>Moone,</HI> were <HI>Provinces</HI> and <HI>Kingdomes;</HI> as <HI>Galileus</HI> would per&s;wade them,
<PB N="288" REF="183"> they would find out a way to go thither.</P>
<P>But let us mock at the extra|vagancie of their de&s;igns, when they are indeed extravagant and ri|diculous. Let not us our &s;elves &s;peak of bu&s;ine&s;&s;es far off, though uni|ver&s;all Ju&s;tice extends it &s;elf through all, and binds all men to|gether; Let us leave the Intere&s;t of Common humanity to take care of our particular; let us complain of the Evils of <HI>Europe,</HI> and not bu|&s;ie our &s;elves to tell the Hi&s;tory of the <HI>Indians.</HI></P>
<P>The <HI>Kings,</HI> it &s;eems, doe him wrong to be Soveraigns, and Po|pular States offend him in being Free. As long as he &s;hall have one neighbour, there wil never want fal|ling out: Either by good will or by force he will enter upon all the affaires of <HI>Princes:</HI> When they come as Compeeres, they carry them&s;elves like Enemies; They change the offices which they pro|mi&s;ed
<PB N="289" REF="183"> into evill rights which they alleadge, and fal&s;e debts which they demand: And if two Concurrents pretend to one thing, the Temper which they find to content them, is to take it from them: Thus they accommodate differences, and unite Parties, by putting them out of their Intere&s;t: They have played &s;uch games in <HI>Germany,</HI> and would continue them in <HI>Italy;</HI> they have matter ready to fall to work el&s;e|where; and though their enterpri|&s;es go &s;ometimes but &s;lowly on, and that the &s;ucce&s;s follow not clo&s;e up|on the re&s;olution, yet we alwaies &s;ee in them a &s;trange ob&s;tinacy to hope well.</P>
<P>They are no longer before <HI>Ca|zal,</HI> but if I mi&s;take not, they will not &s;tay long before they return thi|ther: They are not repul&s;ed neither by the length nor difficulty of things; That which they cannot do to day, they imagine they &s;hall do to morrow: If they are abu&s;'d in
<PB N="290" REF="184"> the Termes, they believe to be a&s;|&s;ur'd of the Event. Already they deliberate of the order which they wil e&s;tabli&s;h in the affaires of peace, after the victory: Already they de|&s;ign Governors for places which they intend to be&s;iege next year, and think &s;o in&s;olently of the fu|ture, that there wants but little of beleaguring their Debters upon the taking of <HI>Venice:</HI> And certainly, if God had not put barrs in this King|dome again&s;t their violence, and a place of freedome for weakne&s;s; If <HI>France</HI> were not the common Countrey of &s;trangers, and if our Armies were not the defen&s;ive Ar|mies of Chri&s;tendome; I doubt not but they would &s;ooner or later fini&s;h the Conque&s;ts which they have begun, and at la&s;t carry away the Crown from <HI>Italy,</HI> upon which they have fa&s;tened &s;o many a&s;&s;aults.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="30" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="291" REF="184">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXX.</HEAD>
<P>YEt let the <HI>Italians</HI> re&s;t a&s;&s;ur'd if they are affrighted; let them conceive a firme hope from the day of their &s;afety which is coming on; let them prepare them|&s;elves to receive the good fortune which comes to find them: There is yet of their Race who have cha|&s;ti&s;ed their Tyrants, who have pur|ged their Provinces from divers plagues that afflicted them; Who have ruined the Empire of the <HI>Lombards</HI> in <HI>Italy,</HI> and re&s;tor'd the Soveraign High Prei&s;ts to their Seat: The Succe&s;&s;or of <HI>Charle|maigne</HI> is alive, and asks only their con&s;ent to take the yoak from off their neck, who &s;tretcheth forth his hands to the Potentates that are fallen from their Thrones, who finds him&s;elf offended wherever they offend Ju&s;tice, and beares his cares and his thoughts every where,
<PB N="292" REF="185"> where there are hone&s;t men that &s;uffer, or weak men that groan.</P>
<P>But let them al&s;o con&s;ider, if they plea&s;e, that all alone he cannot do all things, and that in vain he hath the power to make Warr, if they have not the courage to make u&s;e of the&s;e Remedies, but cheri&s;h their di&s;ea&s;e. God who hath made us without us, will not &s;ave us without us; He will have us con|tribute &s;omething on our part to our own pre&s;ervation, and to be as it were Co-workers together with him; He will have us take paines at his work, and that we be the In|&s;truments of that bu&s;ine&s;s whereof he is the undertaker. Upon what therefore dream the&s;e Speculatives in the Countrey of <HI>Machiavell</HI> and <HI>Tacitus?</HI> What do tho&s;e <HI>Princes</HI> and People pretend to become, who will behold us with their armes a|cro&s;&s;e? If they performe not what was promi&s;ed; Do they think to be idle Spectators, and umoveable
<PB N="293" REF="185"> in an Action, who&s;e &s;ucce&s;s is com|mon to them by an inevitable Con|&s;equence? Do they believe this af|faire is indifferent to them, becau&s;e the fir&s;t troubles and the fir&s;t dan|gers &s;eem particularly to belong to the <HI>Mon&s;ier</HI> of <HI>Mantua?</HI> Are they not afraid that the contagion of the evill pa&s;&s;eth even to them, and that the ruine of others draws theirs after it? Do they not know that we receive all the blows which are given to our Countrey, and that all her wounds are ours? That they di&s;arme us in &s;poiling our Al|lies, and weaken our Towns in tak|ing tho&s;e of our Neighbours? What Fatall and mi&s;erable &s;tupidi|ty is this? Have they not eies to &s;ee the Firebrands that are com|ming to burne <HI>Germany?</HI> Is not the noi&s;e which the fall of the <HI>Pa|latinate</HI> hath made, able to waken them? Shall that be &s;aid of the <HI>Jtalians,</HI> which was &s;aid of the Peo|ple of <HI>A&s;ia,</HI> That for Freemen they
<PB N="294" REF="186"> were worth nothing, but made Ex|cellent Slaves, and upheld an in&s;up|portable Tyranny, for want of knowing how to &s;ay No, and not being able &s;tedfa&s;tly to pronounce this Syllable.</P>
<P>Becau&s;e they are not yet op|pre&s;s'd, and that they are re&s;erved for the la&s;t Act of the Tragedy, they believe They are &s;ecure; be|cau&s;e the poy&s;on hath not yet gain'd their heart, and death doth not yet gripe them, they imagin they are very well: And becau&s;e the <HI>Spaniard</HI> is not yet &s;ate down before their Cities with his Troops, they &s;weare he doth not &s;o much as dream of them. And yet if one of their Citizens &s;hould provide great &s;tore of Stones, very much Wood, Lime and Sand, and &s;uch like materialls, and at the &s;ame time prepare a place in a very faire &s;cate to imploy all the&s;e things, they would &s;ay without doubt that he built and erected a Pallace, though
<PB N="295" REF="186"> they &s;aw not the Foundations laid, nor the Wals &s;et up: Why therfore will they not &s;ay, that the <HI>Spaniard,</HI> who heaps together his preparati|ons with &s;o long a hand to reach them, I meane his be&s;t and deare&s;t Friends, makes Warr upon them now, though he hath not yet be&s;ieg|ed them, nor bid them Battle? Why will they not in a good time, put the State in a po&s;ture to defend it &s;elf; &s;eeing if they &s;uffer him to manage his work till it be done, it will be no longer in their power to oppo&s;e him? Fora&s;much as all his peace is deceitfull, and di&s;gui&s;ed; his Friend&s;hip proud and violent; Seeing his Complements intreate not, but command and compel, and that it is impo&s;&s;ible to live in good corre&s;pondence with him, and in Liberty; They mu&s;t of nece&s;&s;ity chu&s;e the one of two things, either to be his Subjects, or his Enemies, and &s;ee which they love be&s;t, Slavery or Warr.</P>
<PB N="296" REF="187">
<P>Things are not &s;o altered in their Countrey, but Nature hath pre&s;er|ved &s;ome remainder of good &s;eed; &s;he can yet rai&s;e up Spirits &s;tout and couragious from this ancient principle of Valour, which is not as yet extingui&s;hed, and di&s;till &s;ome drops of bloud purely <HI>Romane</HI> and <HI>Jtalian,</HI> amid&s;t that corrupted ma&s;&s;e it labours under.</P>
<P>It cannot be but &s;ometimes they remember they are the Children of the Lords of the Univer&s;e, and that their Fathers have triumphed par|ticularly over <HI>Spain.</HI> It cannot be but having among them &s;o many <HI>Cae&s;ars, Pompeyes, Scipios,</HI> and <HI>Ca|millu&s;&s;es,</HI> they &s;hould be a&s;hamed to beare the&s;e great Names, and obey in the meane time a <HI>Don Fer|rand,</HI> or a <HI>Don Pedro.</HI> It is a &s;hame indeed that for all the deli|berations at <HI>Milan</HI> and <HI>Naples,</HI> they mu&s;t expect the re&s;olution from <HI>Madrid,</HI> and that the <HI>Jtalians</HI> &s;hould remaine at the lowe&s;t <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">taire
<PB N="297" REF="187"> of &s;lavery, where the poor groomes without ever &s;eeing the face of their Ma&s;ter, are obedient to other Ser|vants? It is a great &s;hame that they &s;hould imploy their Eloquence to flatter Tyrants, which they ought to make u&s;e of to excite peo|ple to recover their Liberty: It is a &s;hame that they are Active and Valiant only for another, and that their Spirit and their Courage &s;hould take pains, only to &s;treng|then a Dominion that oppre&s;&s;eth them.</P>
<P>If they do good actions in <HI>Ger|many,</HI> and in the <HI>Low-Countries,</HI> if they return from Warr charged with &s;poiles, and full of reputation, it is the <HI>Spaniards</HI> glory, and not theirs: by that they do not gain Subjects, but Companions of &s;lave|rie: They make not the fortune of their own Countrey better, but render the power of a &s;tranger more formidable; Their chains be|come more glittering and &s;trong,
<PB N="298" REF="188"> not lighter and more loo&s;e.</P>
<P>I hope they will make &s;ome re|flection hereupon, and that I &s;hall not lo&s;e all that I have &s;aid; Per|haps that vertue which is believed dead, is but a&s;leep; perhaps the &s;ick will get up, and the heart re|turn from its &s;woonings.</P>
<P>The <HI>Republick</HI> of <HI>Venice,</HI> without doubt, will ca&s;t its eyes upon that Decree of <HI>Athens</HI> which was not upheld by a <HI>King</HI> of <HI>France,</HI> when it proclaim'd warr again&s;t <HI>King Philip;</HI> She will adde &s;harpne&s;s to her prudence, and will arme good Coun&s;els, le&s;t <HI>Fury</HI> &s;hould be more &s;trong then <HI>Rea&s;on;</HI> She will ac|companie more then ever with Courage and genero&s;itie, that ex|cellent wi&s;dome, whereof &s;he reads Lectures to all <HI>Europe:</HI> She will con&s;ider, that having bin born and brought up in the Armes of Liberty, and calling her &s;elf <HI>Queen</HI> of the <HI>Sea,</HI> &s;he &s;hould very much degene|rate; if in her old age &s;he &s;hould
<PB N="299" REF="188"> change her condition, and upon firme Land quit her <HI>Scepter</HI> and her <HI>Diadem.</HI> She will con&s;ider, that her incomparable &s;cituation which &s;eems rather a Miracle, and an ex|ample of Divine power, then a work of mens hands: Her &s;ump|tuous <HI>Ar&s;enal,</HI> her proud <HI>Haven,</HI> and her &s;tately buildings, are not the fruits of the fear and lazine&s;s of their Ance&s;tors; but the effects of their labour, their Sweats and their Con&s;tancie: and all the&s;e illu&s;trious marks, cannot be pre|&s;erved but by tho&s;e means whereby they were acquir'd.</P>
<P><HI>His Holine&s;&s;e</HI> hath a Soul too noble, and too high to do any low thing in this occa&s;ion; The perfect knowledg of Divine and humane things, which even the Enemies to his Church admire in him; the commerce which he hath with the Ancient <HI>Romans,</HI> who&s;e writings breath nothing but libertie and love of their Countrey; The abode he
<PB N="300" REF="189"> made in <HI>France,</HI> where he had mo&s;t particular Conference with <HI>Henry</HI> the <HI>Great,</HI> and entred long before into his mind and thoughts: La&s;tly, that a&s;pect worthy of an <HI>Empire,</HI> which &s;heweth &s;omething more then humane; and that counte|nance which ca&s;teth beams of <HI>Ma|je&s;tie</HI> upon all that behold it, &s;igni|fieth nothing fearfull or feeble, and can furni&s;h us with none but good pre&s;ages and fair hopes. He will take the pains to remember, that his dignitie hath bin more re&s;pected by <HI>Attila</HI> then by <HI>Charles,</HI> and that the only pre&s;ence of <HI>Leo</HI> un|armed, &s;top'd the &s;courge of God and cha&s;'d him out of <HI>Italy;</HI> Whereas this Devout and Religious <HI>Prince,</HI> after 3 Treaties of <HI>Peace</HI> wherewith he held <HI>Clement</HI> the &s;eventh in a &s;leep, kept him Pri&s;o|ner contrary to all Divine and hu|mane right, and &s;ack'd <HI>Rome</HI> by the hands of the <HI>Hereticks.</HI></P>
<P>He will &s;ee in the Hi&s;torie of his
<PB N="301" REF="189"> <HI>Predece&s;&s;ors,</HI> that for a le&s;s danger then that which threatens him, they have heretofore made a Holy warr again&s;t <HI>Mainfroy,</HI> as again&s;t the <HI>Sultan;</HI> and that another time they have &s;ent forth a <HI>Croi&s;ade</HI> a|gain&s;t tho&s;e of <HI>Cullen,</HI> after the &s;ame manner as again&s;t the Infidels.</P>
<P>But if he will be a better mana|ger of his <HI>Thunders,</HI> and make u&s;e of his power more moderately; If for &s;ome Re&s;pects he will not open|ly embrace the Common cau&s;e, nor a&s;&s;i&s;t with his Armes intere&s;&s;ed <HI>Princes;</HI> I a&s;&s;ure my &s;elf at lea&s;t, that he will favour them with his Inclination, his vows and wi&s;hes; and will ble&s;&s;e their affaires &s;ecret|ly.</P>
<P>And &s;ince we have an opinion, that a <HI>Friend</HI> or <HI>Ma&s;ter</HI> that &s;ees us play, though he &s;ay not a word, nor &s;peak upon the game, leaves not to a&s;&s;i&s;t us, and to bring ill luck to our Adver&s;aries: They will grow &s;omewhat bold of the good will of
<PB N="302" REF="190"> the <HI>Pope,</HI> though neither publi&s;hed nor declar'd; and will take courage from the &s;igns he &s;hall make them, if they cannot prevaile by his For|ces.</P>
<P>For other inferior <HI>Princes,</HI> who&s;e repo&s;e is not founded upon the holine&s;s of Religion, and like him cannot command the world in a <HI>Chaire;</HI> it is nece&s;&s;ary that they &s;tirr wholly for the recoverie or pre&s;ervation of their Crowns, and that they enter into the de&s;ign which the <HI>King</HI> hath to re-e&s;tabli&s;h them if they are depo&s;'d, or to main|tain them if they are threatned: It is nece&s;&s;ary that they cry to them on high, that <HI>Liberty</HI> is not defen|ded by <HI>Feare,</HI> nor is violence repel'd with &s;oftne&s;s.</P>
<P>It is needfull, that in this occa|&s;ion, <HI>Italy, Germany,</HI> and <HI>England,</HI> the <HI>Catholiques,</HI> the <HI>Prote&s;tants,</HI> and the <HI>Arminians,</HI> &s;hould unite them&s;elves together again&s;t the Common Enemie; again&s;t him who
<PB N="303" REF="190"> a&s;&s;aults not the <HI>Hereticks</HI> out of zeal of Religion, but Intere&s;t of <HI>State,</HI> and who covets not as St. <HI>Paul</HI> did, the Unbelievers, but tho&s;e things which are theirs. A <HI>Stoick</HI> and an <HI>Epicure,</HI> that is to &s;ay, two men who make profe&s;&s;ion of a con|trary <HI>Philo&s;ophie;</HI> and who were of two di&s;-agreeing <HI>Sects,</HI> could a|gree when there was a que&s;tion of delivering their Countrey from &s;la|verie, and could lay their opinions a&s;ide to joyn their Intere&s;ts toge|ther.</P>
<P>A man that is in danger to be drown'd, catcheth hold indifferent|ly of whatever he meets with, were it a naked &s;word, or a hot iron. Nece&s;&s;ity divides Brothers and u|nites Strangers; It makes the Chri|&s;tian agree with the <HI>Turk</HI> again&s;t the Chri&s;tian; It excu&s;eth and ju|&s;tifieth whatever it doth: The Law of God hath not abrogated the law of nature; The pre&s;ervation of a mans &s;elf is the mo&s;t pre&s;&s;ing, if
<PB N="304" REF="191"> not the mo&s;t lawfull of all Duties. In an extream danger we look not &s;o neer to fair dealing, or what may &s;eem be&s;t; neither is to &s;in, but to defend a mans &s;elf with the left hand.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="31" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAP. XXXI.</HEAD>
<P>THe Scruple of Con&s;cience ought not then to be made u&s;e of for a Pretence of lazine&s;&s;e: Our <HI>Princes</HI> have a right and Ju&s;tice re|maining; and &s;ufficient Forces pro|vided, they want not courage and re&s;olution.</P>
<P>The <HI>Mon&s;ter,</HI> who&s;e figure we have &s;een, is indeed cruell and &s;a|vage, but he is not for all this invin|cible: He hath a great Body, but this body con&s;i&s;ts of &s;everall pieces, and holds together more by liga|ments then nerves: He hath many members; but they are neither well proportioned nor compacted: The Armes cannot reach the head, the
<PB N="305" REF="191"> Brea&s;t is naked when the utmo&s;t parts are covered, and if he move him&s;elf on one &s;ide, all the re&s;t &s;ticks fa&s;t; So u&s;ually, he receives is many blows as he gives, and is as <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">amous for his lo&s;&s;es as for his victo|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ies.</P>
<P>Behold a handfull of People, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">hat brave him and beat him ordina|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ily, and whom God hath lifted <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">p to humble his pride and In&s;olen|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ie! Behold one little <HI>Mar&s;h</HI> which <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">e&s;i&s;ts all his Kingdoms and all his forces! Con&s;ider a power which <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">lwaies &s;loats, and depends partly <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">pon the winds and Tempe&s;t, which <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">et holds up again&s;t his formidable <HI>Monarchie.</HI></P>
<P>The&s;e Fi&s;hermen which he &s;o much contemned at fir&s;t, have caught his Towns and Provinces in their nets; have taken from him Fleets and Conque&s;ts, and &s;hare almo&s;t every year with him the Re|venue of the <HI>Indies;</HI> Are they not the weak things of the world, which
<PB N="306" REF="192"> God hath cho&s;en to confound the &s;trong? Is it not a &s;mall grain of Sand wherewith he bridles in the fury of the Ocean? Do you not re|member the little Stone which o|verturn'd the great <HI>Statue?</HI> After 40 years of warr, the <HI>Spaniard</HI> is &s;till to begin in that Countrey: All that he hath done is but to &s;pend his Men, and ca&s;t his Millions into the Sea, and to be enforced to do nothing.</P>
<P>Tho&s;e very advantages he &s;o much braggs of, are victories &s;o dearly bought, that he had bin ruin'd, had he gain'd many &s;uch; For his lo&s;&s;es they are notable and ordinary, and &s;ome of them he will feel yet a long time; At the <HI>Hague</HI> is to be &s;een a great Hall all Tapi|&s;tred with his Cloaths, In which the States fea&s;ted <HI>Marque&s;&s;e Spi|nola,</HI> when of a Captain Generall he became an Emba&s;&s;ador to de|mand peace, and the Eternall Coun|&s;ell acknowledg'd its Subjects for
<PB N="307" REF="192"> Soveraigns, and &s;ent to flatter them, after they had unprofitably threat|ned them. The <HI>Prince,</HI> who at this day commands their Armies, will be very well able to hang another Hall after the &s;ame manner, if he but live, &amp; the warr continue: He is not le&s;s skilful in his art, then the late <HI>Prince Maurice</HI> his Brother, he is no le&s;s a lover of Liberty, nor no better a friend to our Conquerors; and I think will handle them with no more courte&s;ie nor re&s;pect. It is true indeed, that the &s;ucce&s;s of <HI>Ger|many</HI> hath heightned their heart, and that their affaires appear there very well &s;etled; but let us not be a&s;toni&s;hed at this; That which makes the greate&s;t noi&s;e, and carries the faire&s;t &s;hew, is not alwaies the mo&s;t certain. There is yet whereby they may be troubled, where they think them&s;elves &s;o &s;ecure: And who knows not, if <HI>Germany,</HI> which they have divided, would re-unite it &s;elf, and if the <HI>Germans</HI> would leave to lend their hands and their
<PB N="308" REF="193"> blood to their Enemie, and &s;erve their Countrey; all the Trophies which he hath erected among them would fall pre&s;ently in pieces, and a pro&s;perity of 10 years would come to nothing.</P>
<P>Sometimes the vanqui&s;hed hath endangered the Victor, and with the broken end of a &s;word, hath &s;lain him, of whom he begg'd his life. Formidable beginnings have many times had ridiculous conclu|&s;ions; and a power de&s;tin'd to con|quer Kingdomes, hath bin broken in pieces by a &s;mall portion of earth: oftentimes, tho&s;e that have given law to others have bin the neere&s;t to danger, and the Soveraign Peo|ple of the Univer&s;e, in a warr where the end was &s;ucce&s;sfull, were reduc'd to &s;uch an extreamity of ill fortune, that they had no remainder of hope but in the be&s;ieged Capitoll, and in bani&s;hed <HI>Camillus.</HI></P>
<P>Oppre&s;&s;ion doth not alwaies &s;poile free-men of their vertue, it
<PB N="309" REF="193"> excites only their courage, and &s;harpens their valour by grief; It <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">s a cau&s;e &s;ometimes of a greater and more a&s;&s;ured liberty, and makes, that after the recovery of lo&s;t things, they pre&s;erve with ob&s;tinacie what was formerly po&s;&s;e&s;&s;'d with negli|gence.</P>
<P>We mu&s;t not alwaies be credu|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ous at the fir&s;t joy, nor confide in <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">he appearance of bu&s;ine&s;&s;es; there <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">re ill gains and ruinous acqui&s;itions. And as a Marchant, who had loa|ded his Ship with &s;tore of wild Bea&s;ts, to bring them out of <HI>Africa</HI> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nto <HI>Europe,</HI> &s;hould not be a&s;&s;ur'd <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">n the mid&s;t of his riches, and might <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">e lo&s;t upon the Sea, though the winds were favourable; &s;o it &s;eems <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">o me, that <HI>Princes,</HI> after they have gained battles and conquered peo|ples, ought to be afraid of their own Conque&s;ts, and make account that there are not more dangerous enemies, then Subjects that obey by force. The <HI>Germans</HI> will be free
<PB N="310" REF="194"> when ever they &s;hall plea&s;e to break their Fetters: The Divi&s;ion cea|&s;ing among&s;t them, the power of the <HI>Spaniard</HI> will cea&s;e to be in their Countrey, and the fir&s;t day that they &s;hall agree together, He will be driven out.</P>
<P>I hear talk moreover of a King of <HI>Sweden,</HI> which can very well give him his handfull, and do exceeding &s;ervice, if he be advi&s;edly imployed. His Courage is not a blind and headlong boldne&s;&s;e, nor his Valour a heat of anger: He knows who to make Warr with knowledg, and leaves &s;carce any thing to the di&s;cretion of Fortune. The moti|ons of his &s;oul are very high, but al|&s;o they are very regular and ju&s;t; He hath a great &s;pirit guided by a greater judgement; He hath the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of nece&s;&s;ary vertues, nor doth he want tho&s;e that are de|lightfull; He would de&s;erve a Kingdome neerer the Sun then that of <HI>Swedland:</HI> And if <HI>Pyrrhus,</HI> who
<PB N="311" REF="194"> named the <HI>Romans</HI> Barbarous, &s;hould returne again into the world, he would certainly &s;ay, that never was <HI>Greek</HI> more accompli&s;h|ed, nor more rationall then this <HI>Barbarian.</HI></P>
<P>The <HI>King</HI> of <HI>England,</HI> wil not abandon a cau&s;e in the which be|&s;ides the rea&s;ons of State which are common to him with us, his Honor and his Con&s;cience will ingage him more particularly then any other; He wil have pitty of his Si&s;ter, of his Brother in Law, and of his Nephewes, which are &s;ad and de|plorable Examples of the in&s;tabili|ty of the things of the World; and which may be added to the <HI>Adra&s;tes,</HI> the <HI>Polynices,</HI> the <HI>Hecu|bas</HI> and <HI>Antigones</HI> upon the Thea|ters. Now that he is rid of that Importunate, who traver&s;ed all his good de&s;ignes, and who play'd &s;o in&s;olently with his name and pow|er in the pernicious Galentries of his State; being as he is wi&s;e and
<PB N="312" REF="195"> Noble, he will undertake a Re&s;olu|tion worthy his good &s;ence and Courage. He will hearken to that faire <HI>Queen</HI> whom Heaven hath gi|ven him, full of &s;pirit and under|&s;tanding, that in the &s;ame per&s;on he may find together all content and a&s;&s;i&s;tance, and that &s;he that po&s;&s;e&s;|&s;eth his love, and who is the delight of his eies, may participate al&s;o in his Coun&s;els, and be the Compani|on of his cares. He will follow his fir&s;t Inclinations, and his true Inte|re&s;ts, nor will he lightly depart from the ancient Amities of the late <HI>King</HI> her Father; and remembring the di&s;gu&s;ts which were offered him he will joyn him&s;elf with <HI>France</HI> where he was intreated with all kind of honor and affection. This good cau&s;e will be upheld by other meanes; nor will want followers and partners; be&s;ides it is certain that the Body which we are afraid of, hath its wounds and infirmities which trouble it, and which leave
<PB N="313" REF="195"> not off to be dangerous, though they be covered with &s;ome appea|rance of health; Neither need we doubt that Warr beginning to &s;eize upon it, and to pre&s;&s;e him on all &s;ides, he will not pre&s;ently be &s;en&s;ible of whatever pain or weak|ne&s;&s;e is in his members, and under that bundle and paint of Great|ne&s;&s;e, which cheats the world, there be not found &s;ome corrupted parts and incurable ulcers. But let the wor&s;t come; when he &s;hall be as &s;ound as he &s;eems great and &s;trange, when he &s;hall have quitted him&s;elf of all his lo&s;&s;es, who &s;hall be his Surety for the future? If he hath pro&s;pered &s;ince the death of the late <HI>King,</HI> 'tis his turne now to be mi&s;e|rable; if he grow &s;ecure of the fa|vour of Fortune, he confides in the Care&s;&s;es of a Curtezan: It is not likely that &s;he that makes profe&s;&s;ion of lightne&s;&s;e, &s;hould be con&s;tant for the love of him; But it is very like|ly that the groanes of Nations, the
<PB N="314" REF="196"> clamor of Innocents per&s;ecuted, the affliction of Mothers and Widowes left de&s;olate; The Violations, Sa|crilegies and other ill con&s;equences, of unju&s;t Warrs, will mount up to the very Throne of God, and will draw down his vengeance upon him that is the cau&s;e of &s;o many mi&s;chiefs. There is much more likelyhood that the eternall Ju&s;tice prepares that puni&s;hment for him which he de&s;erves, rather then that Fortune, which is but a Infidel, &s;hould keep her word with him, If God under&s;tand the cry of the young Ravens in their ne&s;t, will he not hear his Children who &s;ollicite him, and demand a rea&s;on of the wrong which is done them? If the voice of the bloud of <HI>Abel</HI> came up to him, &s;hall the bloud of a num|ber of Chri&s;tians be dumbe, and fall to the ground without making any noi&s;e? Shall their complaints, their imprecations, their la&s;t words be lo&s;t? Shall they die for Ju&s;tice,
<PB N="315" REF="196"> and yet Ju&s;tice make no enquirie after their death? The avenger of Perjuries and of violated Religion, will he alwaies &s;uffer Religion to be made an in&s;trument for Tyranny, and that that name &s;hould be made u&s;e of to deceive the world? If he count our hairs, will he have no re|&s;pect to our &s;ighs? Will he not ga|ther up our Tears? Will he de&s;pi&s;e our Prayers? No, No, let us a&s;&s;ure our &s;elves that God is for us, and that the mi&s;eries of Chri&s;tendome do touch him. We have one marke, concerning the certainty whereof it is not lawfull to doubt: If he had not re&s;olved powerfully to &s;uccour tho&s;e that are his, He had not &s;ent the <HI>King</HI> at this time; If he had not a de&s;ire to make them overcome, he had not pre&s;ented them with &s;o brave a Captain; If he would deferr the tearm of their Liberty, he would have deferr'd his birth. Certainly he hath cau&s;ed this excellent <HI>Prince</HI> to be borne
<PB N="316" REF="197"> for the good of men, and for the happine&s;&s;e of his Age. He hath gi|ven him to the Prayers of <HI>France,</HI> of <HI>Jtaly,</HI> and of <HI>Germany,</HI> who have beg'd him; He could not refu&s;e the nece&s;&s;ity of his people that had need of him. The Captain Generall of a great Confederacie, who &s;hould have &s;pent the greate&s;t part of his life, in Clo&s;ets and Gardens, and who had &s;een nothing but Masks and Fea&s;ts, would be overcome by the fir&s;t ill news; and the hope of them who &s;hould re&s;t them&s;elves upon his capacity, would have a very weak and ruinous Foundation; But this <HI>Man</HI> is born amid&s;t Warr and Armies: From his Infancy he hath beheld Sieges and Battles; Nece&s;&s;ity hath hardned him in good time for vertue, and that which is trouble&s;ome to others, is only an Exerci&s;e to him: There is nothing &s;o high nor &s;o difficult, but we may expect it from his Valour; He will go beyond our highe&s;t hopes. I
<PB N="317" REF="197"> will &s;ay once more; It depends on|ly of him&s;elf that he doth not Con|quer, and di&s;pute his Empire and Dominion with the mo&s;t Ambiti|ous: But He will not enrich him|&s;elf with publike lo&s;&s;es: Nor will he be guiltie of his good Fortune, he de&s;ires not a quality which &s;hould prove Tragicall to all <HI>Eu|rope.</HI> Let no man take any di&s;ta&s;te at his de&s;ignes, nor let his Armes be an occa&s;ion of Jealou&s;ie to any one. He hath con&s;ecrated his hands to the Lord, and to the Protection of Ju&s;tice; His armes defend none but good Cau&s;es; They bring re&s;t and &s;ecurity to People, and will be in the &s;ame condition, as the <HI>Targets</HI> that fell from Heaven were to the <HI>Ro|manes</HI> that gathered them up. It is not <HI>Hanniball</HI> that comes down from the <HI>Alps</HI> with all the cruelties and perfidious dealings of his Countrey, and that, after a &s;olemn Oath to de&s;troy <HI>Jtaly.</HI> It is <HI>Pe|pin,</HI> it is <HI>Charlemaine,</HI> who will
<PB N="318" REF="198"> once more deliver them; and if in the fatall year that That <HI>African</HI> began his Warr, a Child being out of his Mothers belly return'd pre&s;ently back again, to &s;hew that he could not do well in the world in &s;o ill a time; Now that a time quite con|trary to this begins, certainly it will be a plea&s;ure to be borne an Inha|bitant of the earth; And Mothers ought to be glad of their fruitful|ne&s;&s;e, becau&s;e they are &s;ure to bear Children that &s;hall be happier then their Fathers, and who &s;hall live in Liberty by the benefit of <HI>Lewis</HI> the <HI>Ju&s;t.</HI></P>
<P>He need not be &s;u&s;pected of the <HI>Italians,</HI> nor ought <HI>Italy</HI> to account him for a &s;tranger; He is an <HI>Italian</HI> by the Mothers &s;ide, and con&s;e|quently intere&s;&s;ed in the pre&s;ent af|faires, not only by honour and con|&s;ideration of State, but al&s;o out of a naturall Inclination and Piety; and becau&s;e they will needs tell us fal&s;e Oracles, and &s;uppo&s;ititious Prophe|cies:
<PB N="319" REF="198"> Since <HI>Pythia</HI> is &s;till a lyar in favour of <HI>Philip,</HI> why &s;hould not we &s;earch out Oracles of our &s;ide, and make u&s;e of the witne&s;s of wi&s;e men, who, according to the o|pinion of <HI>Plato,</HI> are never without Divine In&s;piration?</P>
<P>Why &s;hould not we alleadg that which was written above a hundred years ago by a great Per&s;on, to <HI>Laurence de Medicis,</HI> Duke of <HI>&V;rbin;</HI> that mi&s;erable <HI>Italy</HI> &s;hould hope from his hou&s;e for one that &s;hould deliver it. Infallibly the &s;pi|rit that dictated the&s;e words to him, &s;aw afar off the marriage of <HI>Henry</HI> the <HI>Great;</HI> he intended to &s;peak of <HI>Lewis the Ju&s;t,</HI> and de&s;ig|ned the wonders which we have &s;een, and tho&s;e which we &s;hall &s;ee, if the <HI>Italians</HI> will not ob&s;tinately re&s;i&s;t their own good fortune, and preferr not their Onions and their Garlick, (I mean &s;ome &s;mall In|tere&s;ts and beggarly pen&s;ions where|with <HI>Spain</HI> repaies them) before the
<PB N="320" REF="199"> Liberty which is offered to them.</P>
<P>But be it as it will, the <HI>King</HI> hath a de&s;ign to do that which the <HI>Prin|ces</HI> have done, whom Hi&s;tory hath made mention of for Demy-Gods: He goes in the &s;teps of tho&s;e mag|nanimous <HI>Kings,</HI> the &s;worn Ene|mies of wicked men, the Protectors of hone&s;t men, the peace-makers of Sea and Land, who &s;eek for no o|ther fruit from their victories but the re&s;t of the world, nor run from one end to another of it, but to pro|cure its deliverance. He knows that he is de&s;cended from tho&s;e that have broken the forces, and extingui&s;hed the <HI>Tyranny</HI> of <HI>Luitprand, A&s;tulph</HI> and <HI>Didier:</HI> from tho&s;e who have re&s;tored to the <HI>Popes</HI> all <HI>Flaminia</HI> and <HI>Emilia,</HI> which had bin u&s;urped from them: who pre&s;ented them with the I&s;le of <HI>Cor&s;a,</HI> and the Dutchie of <HI>Spoleto</HI> and <HI>Beneven|tum;</HI> who added to their Domi|nion, all the Countrey between <HI>Par|ma</HI> and <HI>Lucqua:</HI> He knoweth that
<PB N="321" REF="199"> he is heire to him, who, by a bet|ter Title then that of <HI>Con&s;tantine's,</HI> might be called the <HI>Churches Bene|factor,</HI> and who&s;e name is yet read at <HI>Ravenna</HI> in a Table of <HI>Marble,</HI> with this remainder of an In&s;cripti|on; <HI>He was the fir&s;t that opened the way to the growth and encrea&s;e of the Church.</HI> He believes with <HI>Ari|&s;totle,</HI> that to do well, is no le&s;s a mark of Excellency then of good|ne&s;s; and with St. <HI>Paul,</HI> that we mu&s;t do good to all men, but chiefly to tho&s;e of the hou&s;hold of faith; He believes that a great <HI>King</HI> ought to carry his cares long before into the future, and farr beyond his own Kingdome; that all times ought to be in like con&s;ideration with him as the pre&s;ent, and all mi&s;erable men equally recommen|ded to him as his own Subjects: That <HI>Mountferrat</HI> and <HI>Mantua</HI> mu&s;t be as neer to his mind as the Suburbs of <HI>Paris,</HI> and the back-&s;ide of the <HI>Louver;</HI> and if thirty daies
<PB N="322" REF="200"> journey from him, a poor afflicted Per&s;on invoke his name, and im|plore his Ju&s;tice, he pre&s;ently feels a diminution of his mi&s;eries, and a change in his fortune. He finds that it is a much fairer thing to re&s;tore Liberty to Common-Wealths, then to give them a good <HI>Ma&s;ter;</HI> to get pa&s;&s;ionate &s;ervants, rather then ill-affected Subjects; to make him|&s;elf friends then va&s;&s;als; to have o|ver all men a Superioritie of vertue, rather then a Soveraignty of pow|er: La&s;tly, he is not exalted to the highe&s;t degree of humane things, but that he may be looked upon a|farr off, and give lu&s;tre to the whole Kingdome, that he may &s;erve for a rule to other <HI>Princes,</HI> for a living and animated Law to all the Na|tions of the Earth.</P>
<P>In Con&s;cience &s;ince People of this &s;ort make way where ever they pa&s;s, &s;ince their Example is a kind of Command, which the mo&s;t rebellious cannot di&s;obey, and that
<PB N="323" REF="200"> the bitterne&s;s which is &s;ometimes found in vertue, is &s;weetned by the fondne&s;s of imitating <HI>Kings</HI> there|in; the pre&s;ent Generation mu&s;t needs become better experienced, and there would be too much hard|ne&s;s in the hearts of men, if pre&s;ent|ly all Chri&s;tendome do not become vertuous, and if the Holy life of the Kings, without convocating the Generall States, and A&s;&s;embly of Nobles, do not produce a voluntary Reformation in this State, and a|broad an hone&s;t emulation to do as well as us.</P>
<P>We need not any more &s;eek for the <HI>Idea</HI> of a <HI>Prince</HI> in the In&s;titu|tion of <HI>Cyrus,</HI> nor go any more to <HI>Rome</HI> to admire the <HI>Statuas</HI> of <HI>Con|&s;uls</HI> and <HI>Emperors,</HI> nor to prai&s;e the dead to the prejudice of the li|ving. There is not among all that People, any Antick piece of &s;tone or bra&s;s, which repre&s;ents a <HI>Heros</HI> like ours; we po&s;&s;e&s;s what our Fa|thers wi&s;hed for, nor can we remem|ber
<PB N="324" REF="201"> any thing which is of &s;o much value, as what we have &s;een. As for me, whether it is that I am pa&s;&s;io|nate for the glory of my <HI>Ma&s;ter,</HI> or whether I intere&s;s my &s;elf in the de&s;ign which I have undertaken, or that the light of pre&s;ent things daz|leth me, or that the only love of Truth makes me &s;peak; it is certain, that having beheld all the parts of the world, and con&s;idered it from the fir&s;t moment of its birth, I find not any man, over whom the <HI>King</HI> hath not &s;ome advantage, nor any ones life, which take it altoge|ther, is &s;o admirable as his.</P>
<P>I &s;ee great vertues in many pla|ces, but I &s;ee al&s;o great vices which accompany them: Serpents are hid under the Flowers; Poy&s;ons and perfumes come out of the &s;ame bo|&s;ome of the Earth: whole Nature is a confu&s;ion of good and evill; there is not any part but &s;uffers its inconveniences and wants; and tho&s;e very bodies which it hath brought
<PB N="325" REF="201"> forth with the greate&s;t care, and which it hath formed of the riche&s;t matter, have their Eclip&s;es and their maladies: There is but the Per&s;on of the <HI>King,</HI> where I ob&s;erve no|thing that I would not have to be: I am not here bu&s;ied, as it were, a|bo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">t the refining of mettals, to &s;epa|rate the pure from the impure; I am not troubled to &s;ever vertue from vice.</P>
<P>All there is equally good, all is blamele&s;s, and worthy to be e&s;teem|ed. And if the fir&s;t rank which he holds now among&s;t men, were to be di&s;puted among them, I cannot &s;uppo&s;e that any one could lawfully contend with him, but would yield to him either in noblene&s;s of blood, or in pro&s;perity of &s;ucce&s;s, or in the carriage of his body, or in &s;trength of wit, or in magnanimity of heart, or in uprightne&s;s of con&s;cience.</P>
<P>Let us conclude then, that he is <HI>The Prince</HI> by excellency, and be|yond all compari&s;on; that his life is
<PB N="326" REF="202"> the le&s;&s;on of <HI>Ma&s;ters,</HI> and the ex|amples of the perfect, that his prai|&s;es ought to be the exerci&s;es of all wits, and the matter of all di&s;|cour&s;e.</P>
<P>Let us not go out of &s;o plea&s;ant a meditation, but to enter into it again; Let us not take breath, but to lift our voices higher; let us not make an end but to begin again; So much Holy-day is there in all this <HI>Province,</HI> &s;ince the taking of <HI>Rochel;</HI> and we have lei&s;ure which we can|not better imploy, then to the ho|nour of him who hath given it us, and who makes us in joy, in re&s;t, our books and our &s;tudies. Be&s;ides that, when lei&s;ure it &s;elf failes us; and that bu&s;ine&s;&s;es and affaires pre&s;s us on all &s;ides, &s;o noble a digre&s;&s;ion de&s;erveth to be preferred before bu|&s;ine&s;&s;es and imployments.</P>
</DIV2>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="errata">
<PB REF="202">
<HEAD>Errata.</HEAD>
<P>IN the la&s;t Leafe but one of the fir&s;t let|ter, 12. line, read for being, begins. in the &s;econd leaf of the 2. Letter, l. 15. r. imploy to &s;o. In the Preface, 6. leafe, l. 22. r. Reeds. The <HI>Prince,</HI> p. 16. l. 13. read will. p. 40. l. 25. r. Loure. p. 47. l. 1. read longing. p. 51. l. 17. r. throug out. p. 55. l. 5. r. Jacobu&s;&s;es. p. 59. l. 17. r. become. p. 73. l. 3. r. feares. p. 89 l. 19. r. painfull. l. 21. r. gives. p. 93 l. 11. r. to de&s;erve. p. 95 l. 6 r. bu&s;ie. p. 111 l. 15 r. in&s;truct. p. 119 l. 13 r. bad. p. 122. l. 7 r. upon. p. 126 l. 5 r. one. p. 152 l. 8 r. Is it. p. 153 l. 21 and 22 r. and this make &s;peed, or that which goes, &amp;c. p. 170 l. 4 r. fairer. p. 174 l. 21 r. blame. p. 181 l. 24 r. di&s;cord. p. 192 l the la&s;t, r. Alanies. p. 193 l. 25 r. <HI>Alevix.</HI> p. 198 l. 18 r. Rats. p. 201 l. 3 r. hole not well. p. 217 l. 14 r. of Philo&s;ophers. p. 237 l. 7 r. lower. p. 240 l. 6 r. they can be. p. 246 l. 19 r. of Enemies. p. 258 l. 10 read it not lawfull, P. 269 l. 9 r. one l. 15. r. this. p. 276 l. 22 r. their p. 287 l. 15 r. truly l. 20 r. world p. 288 l. 24 r. Vmpeeres p. 304 l. 4 r. it.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="imprimatur">
<PB REF="203">
<P>Imprimatur,</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED><HI>Na: Brent.</HI> <DATE>Decemb. 13. 1647.</DATE></SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
