The Art of Rhetoric, 1560

By Thomas Wilson
(based on the edition reproduced by The Clarendon Press, 1909)
 

"What is Rhetoric."
Rhetoric is an Art to set forth by utterance of words, matter at large, or (as Cicero doth say) it is a learned, or rather an artificial declaration of the mind, in the handling of any cause, called in contention, that may through reason largely be discussed.

"The matter whereupon an Orator must speak."
An Orator must be able to speak fully of all those questions which by law and man's ordinance are enacted, and appointed for the use and profit of man, such as are thought apt for the tongue to set forward. Now, Astronomy is rather learned by demonstration, than taught by any great utterance. Arithmetic little needs the use of Eloquence, seeing it may be had wholly by numbering only. Geometry rather asks a good square than a clean flowing tongue to set out the art. Therefore an Orator's profession is to speak only of all such matters as may largely be expounded for man's behaviour, and may with much grace be set out, for all men to hear them.

"Of questions."
Every question or demand in things is of two sorts. Either it is an infinite question, and without end, or else it is definite, and comprehended within some end.

Those questions are called infinite which generally are propounded without the comprehension of time, place, and person, or any such like: that is to say, when no certain thing is named, but only words are generally spoken. As thus, whether it be best to marry, or to live single. Which is better, a courtier's life, or a scholar's life.

Those questions are called definite which set forth a matter, with the appointment and naming of place, time, and person. As thus, Whether now it be best here in England, for a priest to marry, or to live single. Whether it were meet for the king's Majesty that now is, to marry with a stranger, or to marry with one of his own subjects. Now the definite question (as the which concerneth some one person) is most agreeing to the purpose of an Orator, considering particular matters in the law are ever debated betwixt certain persons, the one affirming for his part, and the other denying as fast again for his part.

Things generally spoken without all circumstances are more proper to the Logician, who talketh of things universally, without respect of person, time, or place. And yet notwithstanding, Tully doth say, that whosoever will talk of a particular matter must remember, that within the same also is comprehended a general. As for example, if I shall ask this question, Whether it be lawful for William Conqueror to invade England, and win it by force of arms, I must also consider this, Whether it be lawful for any man to usurp power, or it be not lawful. That if the greater cannot be borne withal, the less cannot be neither. And in this respect, a general question agreeth well to an Orator's profession, and ought well to be known for the better furtherance of his matter, notwithstanding the particular question is ever called in controversy, and the general only thereupon considered, to comprehend and compass the same, as the which is more general.

"The end of Rhetoric."
Three things are required of an Orator.

To teach.
To delight.
And to persuade.

First therefore, an orator must labour to tell his tale, that the hearers may well know what he meaneth, and understand him wholly, the which he shall with ease do, if he utter his mind in plain words, such as are usually received, and tell it orderly, without going about the bush. That if he do not this, he shall never do the other. For what man can be delighted, or yet be persuaded with the only hearing of those things, which he knoweth not what they mean. The tongue is ordained to express the mind, that one may understand another's meaning: now what availeth to speak, when none can tell what the speaker meaneth? Therefore Phavournus the philosopher (as Gellius telleth the tale) did hit a young man over the thumbs very handsomely, for using over old, and over strange words.

"Sirrah" (quoth he) "when our old great ancestors and Grandsires were alive, they spake plainly in their mother's tongue, and used old language, such as was spoken then at the building of Rome. But you talk me such a Latin, as though you spake with them even now, that were two or three thousand years ago, and only because you would have no man to understand what you say. Now, were it not better for thee a thousand fold, (thou foolish fellow) in seeking to have thy desire, to hold thy peace, and speak nothing at all? For then by that means, few should know what were thy meaning. But thou saiest, the old antiquity doth like thee best, because it is good, sober, and modest. Ah, live man, as they did before thee, and speak thy mind now as men do at this day. And remember that which Caesar saieth, beware as long as thou livest of strange words, as thou wouldest take heed and eschew great Rocks in the Sea."

The next part that the orator hath to play is to cheer his guests, and to make them take pleasure with hearing of things wittily devised, and pleasantly set forth. Therefore every orator should earnestly labour to file his tongue, that his words may slide with ease, and that in his delivery he may have such grace, as the sound of a lute, or any such instrument doth give. Then his sentences must be well framed, and his words aptly used, through the whole discourse of his Oration.

Thirdly, such quickness of wit must be shewed, and such pleasant saws so well applied, that the ears may find much delight, whereof I will speak largely when I shall entreat of moving laughter. And assuredly nothing is more needful than to quicken these heavy laden wits of ours, and much to cherish these our lumpish and unwieldy natures, for except men find delight, they will not long abide: delight them, and win them: weary them, and you lose them for ever. And that is the reason, that men commonly tarry the end of a merry play, and cannot abide the half hearing of a sour, checking sermon. Therefore ever these ancient Preachers must now and then play the fools in the pulpit, to serve the fickle ears of their fleeting audience, or else they are like sometimes to preach to the bare walls, for though their spirit be apt, and our will prone, yet our flesh is so heavy, and humours so overwhelm us, that we cannot without refreshing long abide to hear any one thing. Thus we see, that to delight is needful, without the which weighty matters will not be heard at all, and therefore him can I thank, and will ever mingle sweet among the sour, be he preacher, lawyer, yea, or cook either hardly, when he dresseth a good dish of meat. Now I need not to tell that scurrility, or ale-house jesting, would be thought odious, or gross mirth would be deemed madness: considering that even the mean witted do know that already, and as for other that have no wit, they will never learn it, therefore God speed them. Now when these two are done, he must persuade, and move the affections of his hearers in such wise, that they shall be forced to yield unto his saying, whereof (because the matter is large, and may more aptly be declared, when I shall speak of Amplification) I will surcease to speak any thing thereof at this time.

"By what means Eloquence is attained."
First needful it is that he which desireth to excel in this gift of oratory, and longeth to prove an eloquent man, must naturally have a wit, and an aptness thereunto: then must he to his book, and learn to be well stored with knowledge, that he may be able to minister matter for all causes necessary. The which when he hath got plentifully, he must use much exercise both in writing and also in speaking. For though he have a wit and learning together, yet shall they both little avail without much practise. What maketh the Lawyer to have such utterance? Practice. What maketh the Preacher to speak so roundly? Practice. Yea, what maketh women go so fast away with their words? Mary practice I warrant you. Therefore in all faculties, diligent practice, and earnest exercise are the only things that make men prove excellent. Many men know the art very well, and be in all points thoroughly grounded and acquainted with the precepts, and yet it is not their hap to prove eloquent. And the reason is that eloquence itself came not up first by the art, but the art rather was gathered upon eloquence. For wise men seeing by much observation and diligent practice, the compass of divers causes, compiled thereupon precepts and lessons, worthy to be known and learned of all men. Therefore before art was invented, eloquence was used, and through practice made perfect, the which in all things is a sovereign mean most highly to excel.

Now, before we use either to write or speak eloquently, we must dedicate our minds wholly to follow the most wise and learned men, and seek to fashion as well their speech and gesturing, as their wit or enditing. The which when we earnestly mind to do, we can not but in time appear somewhat like them. For if they that walk much in the sun, and think not of it, are yet for the most part sunburned, it can not be but that they which wittingly and willingly travail to counterfeit others must needs take some colour of them, and be like unto them in some one thing or other, according to the proverb, by companying with the wise, a man shall learn wisdom.

"To what purpose this art is set forth."
To this purpose and for this use is the art compiled together, by the learned and wise men, that those which are ignorant might judge of the learned, and labour (when time should require) to follow their works accordingly. Again, the art helpeth well to dispose and order matters of our own invention, the which we may follow as well in speaking as in writing, for though many by nature without art have proved worthy men, yet is art a surer guide than nature, considering we see as lively by art what we do, as though we read a thing in writing, whereas nature's doings are not so open to all men. Again, those that have good wits by nature, shall better increase them by art, and the blunt also shall be whetted through art, that want nature to help them forward.

"Five things to be considered in an Orator."
Any one that will largely handle any matter, must fasten his mind first of all, upon these five especial points that follow, and learn them every one.

i.   Invention of matter.
ii.  Disposition of the same.
iii. Elocution.
iv. Memory.
v.  Utterance.

The finding out of apt matter, called otherwise Invention, is a searching out of things true, or things likely, the which may reasonably set forth a matter, and make it appear probable. The places of logic give good occasion to find out plentiful matter. And therefore, they that will prove any cause, and seek only to teach thereby the truth, must search out the places of logic, and no doubt they shall find much plenty. But what availeth much treasure and apt matter, if man cannot apply it to his purpose. Therefore, in the second place is mentioned the settling or ordering of things invented for this purpose, called in Latin "Dispositio," the which is nothing else but an apt bestowing and orderly placing of things, declaring where every argument shall be set, and in what manner every reason shall be applied for confirmation of the purpose.

But yet what helpeth it though we can find good reasons, and know how to place them if we have not apt words and picked sentences, to commend the whole matter. Therefore, this point must needs follow to beautify the cause, the which being called Elocution, is an applying of apt words and sentences to the matter, found out to confirm the cause. When all these are had together it availeth little if man have no Memory to contain them. The Memory therefore must be cherished, the which is a fast holding both of matter and words couched together, to confirm any cause.

Be it now that one have all these four, yet if he lack the fifth all the other do little profit. For though a man can find out good matter and good words, though he can handsomely set them together, and carry them very well away in his mind, yet it is to no purpose if he have no utterance, when he should speak his mind and show men what he hath to say. Utterance therefore, is a framing of the voice, countenance, and gesture after a comely manner.

Thus we see, that every one of these must go together, to make a perfect orator, and that the lack of one is a hindrance of the whole, and that as well all may be lacking as one, if we look to have an absolute orator.

"Every matter is contained in one of these four."
Either it is an honest thing whereof we speak, or else it is filthy and vile, or else betwixt both: and doubtful what it is to be called, or else it is some trifling matter, that is of small weight.

1) That is called an honest matter, when either we take in hand such a cause that all men would maintain, or else gainsay such a cause that no man can well like.

2) Then do we hold and defend a filthy matter, when either we speak against our own conscience in an evil matter, or else withstand an upright truth.

3) The cause then is doubtful, when the matter is half honest and half unhonest.

4) Such are trifling causes when there is no weight in them, as if one should fancy to praise a goose before any other beast living, (as I know who did) or of fruit to commend nuts chiefly, as Ovid did, or the fever quartaine as Phauorinus did, or the Gnat as Virgil did, or the battle of Frogs as Homer did, or dispraise beards, or commend shaven heads.

The other lesson is, that whereas we purpose always to have the victory, we should so speak that we may labour, rather not to hinder or hurt our cause, then to seek means to further it. And yet I speak not this, but that both these are right necessary, and every one that will do good, must take pains in them both, but yet notwithstanding, it is a fouler fault a great deal for an orator, to be found hurting his own cause, than it should turn to his rebuke, if he had not furthered his whole intent. Therefore not only is it wisdom, to speak so much as is needful, but also it is good reason to leave unspoken so much as is needless, the which although the wisest can do and need no teaching, yet these common wits offend now and then in this behalf. Some man being stirred, shall hurt more our cause then twenty other. Taunting words before some men, will not be borne at all. Sharp rebuking of our adversary, or frumps given before some persons, cannot be suffered at all. Yea, sometimes a man must not speak all that he knoweth, for if he do, he is like to find small favour, although he have just cause to speak, and may with reason declare his mind at large. And albeit that witless folk, can sooner rebuke that which is fondly spoken, than readily praise that which is wisely kept close, yet the necessity of the matter must rather be marked, than the fond judgement of the people esteemed. What a sore saying were this: When a Lawyer should take in hand a matter concerning life and death: and an other should ask how he hath sped, to hear tell that the Lawyer hath not only cast away his client, but undone himself also, in speaking things, inconsiderately, as no doubt it often happeneth that wise men and those also that be none evil men neither, may unawares speak things, which afterward they sore repent, and would call back again with loss of a great sum. Now what folly it is, not to remember the time, and beliked to speak, what man of reason will praise, that, before the Judges (before whom he knoweth the determination of his cause resteth) which the Judges themselves cannot abide to hear spoken at all? Or doeth not so much hinder his own matter, that without all courtesy or preface made, will largely speak evil of those men, whom the hearers of his cause tenderly do favour? Or be it that there be some notable fault in thine adversary, with which the Judges also are infected; same. Considering the Judges thereby may think, thou speakst in seeking such defence made without all discretion. And in framing reasons to confirm the purpose, if any be spoken plainly false, or else contrary to that which was spoken before, doeth it not much hinder a good matter? Therefore in all causes this good heed ought to be had, that always we labour to do some good in furthering of our cause, or if we cannot so do, at the least that we do no harm at all.

"There are three kinds of causes or Orations, which serve for every matter."
Nothing can be handled by this art, but the same is contained within one of these three causes. Either the matter consisteth in praise, or dispraise of a thing or else in consulting, whether the cause be profitable, or unprofitable: or lastly, whether the matter be right or wrong. And yet this one thing is to be learned, that in every one of these three causes, these three several ends, may every one of them be contained in any one of them. And therefore, he that shall have cause to praise any one body, shall have just cause to speak of Justice, to entreat of Profit, and jointly to talk of one thing with an other. But because these three causes are commonly and for the most part severally parted, I will speak of them one after an other, as they are set forth by wise men's judgements, and particularly declare their properties all in order.

The Oration demonstrative standeth either in praise, or dispraise of some one man, or of some one thing, or of some one deed done.

"The kind Demonstrative, wherein chiefly it standeth."
There are diverse things which are praised and dispraised, as men, Countries, Cities, Places, Beasts, Hills, Rivers, Houses, Castles, deeds done by worthy men, and policies praised for diverse respects, before any of the other things are taken in hand.

Now in praising a noble personage, and in setting forth at large his worthiness, Quintilian giveth warning, to use this threefold order:

Before his life.
To observe things: In his life.
After his death.

Before a man's life, are considered these places:

The Realm.
The Shire.
The Town.
The Parents.
The Ancestors.

In a man's life, praise must be parted threefold. That is to say, into the gifts of good things of the mind, the body, and of fortune. Now the gifts of the body and of fortune, are not praiseworthy of their own nature: but even as thy are used, either to or fro, so they are either praised, or dispraised. Gifts of the mind deserve the whole trumpet and sound commendation above all other, wherein we may use the rehearsal of virtues, as they are in order, and beginning at his infancy, tell all his doings till his last age.

"The places whereof are these."

The birth, and infancy.
Whether the person be a man, or a woman.
The bringing up, the nurturing, and the behaviour of his life.
The childhood.
The Stripling age, or Springtide.
To what study he taketh himself unto,
What company he useth, how he liveth.

"Whereunto are referred these."

The man's Prowess done, in behove of the public weal, either abroad, or at home.
His policies and witty devises.
The old age.
The time of his departure, or about his death.
Things that have happened after his death.

Now to open all these places more largely, as well those that are before a man's life, as such as are in his life, and after his death, that the Reader may further see the profit will I do the best I can.

The house whereof a noble personage came declares the state, the natures of his ancestors, his alliance, and his kinsfolk. So that such worthy feats as they have heretofore done, and all such honours as they have had for such their good service, redounds wholly to the increase and amplifying of his honour, that is now living.

The Realm declares the nature of the people. So that some Country bringeth more honour with it, than another doth. To be a French man, descending there of a noble house, is more honour than to be an Irish man: To be an English man borne, is much more honour than to be a Scot, because that by these men, worthy Prowesses have been done, and greater affairs by them attempted, than have been done by any other.

The Shire or Town helpeth somewhat, towards the increase of honour: As it is much better to be borne in Paris, than in Picardy: in London than in Lincoln. For that both the air is better, the people more civil, and the wealth much greater, and the men for the most part more wise.

To be born a man child declares a courage, gravity, and constancy. To be borne a woman declares weakness of spirit, weakness of body, and fickleness of minds.

Now, for the bringing up of a noble personage, his nurse must be considered, his play fellows observed, his teacher and other his servants called in remembrances. How every one of these lived then, with whom they have lived afterwards, and how they live now.

By knowing what he taketh himself unto, and wherein he most delighteth, I may commend him for his learning, for his skill in the French, or in the Italian, for his knowledge in Cosmography: for his skill in the Laws, in the histories of all Countries, and for his gift of enditing. Again, I may commend him for playing at weapons, for running upon a great Horse, for charging his staff at the Tilt, for vaunting, for playing upon Instruments, yea, and for painting, or drawing of a Plat, as in old time noble Princes much delighted therein.

"Prowess done" declares his service to the King, and his Country, either in withstanding the outward enemy, or else in assuaging the rage of his own Countrymen at home.

His wise counsel, and good advice given, sets forth the goodness of his wit.

At the time of his departing, his sufferance of all sickness, may much commend his worthiness. As his strong heart, and cheerful patience even to the end, cannot lack great praise.

The love of all men towards him, and the lamenting generally for his lack, will help most highly to set forth his honour.

After a man's death, are considered his Tomb, his Coat of Armour set up, and all such honours as are used in Funerals. If any one list to put these precepts in practise, he may do as him liketh best. And surely I do think, that nothing so much furthereth knowledge as daily exercise, and inuring ourselves to do that in deed, which we know in word. And because examples give great light, after these precepts are set forth, I will commend two noble Gentlemen, Henry Duke of Suffolk, and his brother Lord Charles Duke with him.

"An example of commending a noble personage."

Better or more wisely can none do, than they which never bestow praise, but upon those that best deserve praise, rather minding discretely what they ought to do, than vainly devising what they best can do, seeking rather to praise men, such as are found worthy, than curiously finding means to praise matters, such as never were in any. For they which speak otherwise than truth is, mind not the commendation of the person, but the setting forth of their own learning. As Gorgias in Plato, praising unrighteousness, Heliogabalus's orators commending whoredome, Phaphorinus the Philosopher, extolling the Fever quartain, thought not to speak as the cause required, but would so much say as their wit would give, not weighing the state of the cause, but minding the vaunt of their brain, looking how much could be said, not passing how little should be said. But I both knowing the might of God's hand, for such as love Fables, will not commend that in those, which need no good praise, but will commend them that no man justly can dispraise, nor yet any one is well able worthily to praise. Their towardness was such, and their gifts so great, that I know none which love learning, but hath sorrowed the lack of their being. And I know that the only naming of them, will stir honest hearts to speak well of them. I will speak of two brethren that lately departed, the one Henry Duke of Suffolk, and the other Lord Charles his brother, whom God thinking meeter for heaven, than to live here upon earth, took from us in his anger, for the bettering of our doings, and amendment of our evil living. These two Gentlemen were borne in noble England, both by father and mother of an high parentage. The father called Duke Charles, by Marriage being brother to the worthy King of famous memory Henry the eight, was in such favour, and did such service, that all England at this hour doth find his lack, and France yet doth feel that such a Duke there was, whom in his life time the Godly loved, the evil feared, the wise men honoured for his wit, and the simple used always for their counsel. Their mother of birth noble, and wit great, of nature gentle, and merciful to the poor, and to the Godly, and especially to the learned an earnest good Patroness, and most helping Lady above all other. In their youth their father died, the eldest of them being not past nine years of age. After whose death, their mother knowing, that wealth without wit, is like a sword in a naked man's hand, and assuredly certain, that knowledge would confirm judgement, provided so for their bringing up in all virtue and learning, that two like were not to be had within this Realm again. When they began both to wear somewhat in years, being in their primetide and spring of their age, the elder waiting on the King's Majesty that now is, was generally well esteemed, and such hope was conceived of his towardness, both for learning and all other things, that few were like unto him in all the Court. The other keeping his book among the Cambridge men profited (as they well know) both in virtue and learning, to their great admiration. For the Greek, the Latin, and the Italian, I know he could do more, than would be thought true by my report. I leave to speak of his skill in pleasant Instruments, neither will I utter his aptness in Music, and his toward nature to all exercises of the body. But his elder brother in this time (besides his other gifts of the mind, which passed all other, and were almost incredible) following his father's nature, was so delighted with riding, and running in armour upon horseback, and was so comely for that fact, and could do so well in charging his Staff, being but xiv. years of age, that men of war, even at this hour, moan much the lack of such a worthy Gentleman. Yea, the French men that first wondered at his learning, when he was there among them, and made a notable oration in Latin: were much more astonished when they saw his comely riding, and little thought to find these two ornaments joined both in one, his years especially being so tender, and his practise of so small time. Afterward coming from the Court, as one that was desirous to be among the learned, he lay in Cambridge together with his brother, where they both so profited, and so gently used themselves, that all Cambridge did reverence, both him and his brother, as two Jewels sent from God. The elder's nature was such, that he thought himself best, when he was among the wisest, and yet contemned none, but thankfully used all, gentle in behaviour without childishness, stout of stomach without all pride, bold with all wariness, and friendly with good advisement. The younger being not so ripe in years, was not so grave in look, rather cheerful, than sad: rather quick, than ancient: but ue t [?] is his brother were set aside, not one that went beyond him. A child, that by his own inclination, so much yielded to his ruler, as few by chastening have done the like: pleasant of speech, prompt of wit, stirring by nature, high without hate, kind without craft, liberal of heart, gentle in behaviour, forward in all things, greedy of learning, and loath to take a foil in any open assembly. They both in all attempts, sought to have the victory, and in exercise of wit, not only the one with the other, did the best, and thought themselves most happy, when they might have any just occasion, to put their wits in trial. And now when this green fruit began to wax ripe, and all men longed to have a taste of such their great forwardness: God preventing man's expectation, took them both about one hour, and in so short time, that first they were known to be dead, ere any abroad could tell they were sick. I need not to rehearse, what both they spake, before their departure (considering, I have severally written, both in Latin and in English, of the same matter) neither will I heap here so much together, as I can, because I should rather renew great sorrow to many, than do most men any great good, who loved them so well generally, that few for a great space after, spake of these two Gentlemen, but they showed tears, with the only utterance of their words, and some through over much sorrowing, were famine to forbear speaking. God grant us all to live, that the good men of this world may be always loath to forsake us, and God may still be glad to have us, as no doubt these two children so died, as all men should wish to live, and so they lived both, as all should wish to die. Seeing therefore, these two were such, both for birth, nature, and all other gifts of grace, that the like are hardly found after them: Let us so speak of them, that our good report may warn us to follow their godly natures, and that lastly, we may enjoy that inheritance, whereunto God hath prepared them and us (that fear him) from the beginning. Amen.

"The parts of an Oration made in praise of a man."

The Entrance.
The Narration confutation.
Sometimes the confutation.
The Conclusion.

If any one shall have just cause, to dispraise an evil man, he shall soon do it, if he can praise a good man. For (as Aristotle doth say) of contraries, there is one and the same doctrine, and therefore, he that can do the one, shall soon be able to do the other.

"Of an Oration demonstrative, for some deed done."
The kind demonstrative of some thing done, is this, when a man is commended, or dispraised, for any act committed in his life.

"The places to confirm this cause, why any one is commended, are six in number."

i. It is honest.
ii. It is possible.
iii. Easy to be done.
iv. Hard to be done.
v. Possible to be done.
vi. Impossible to be done.

Seven circumstances, which are to be considered in diverse matters.

i. Who did the deed.
ii. What was done.
iii. Where it was done.
iv. What help had he to do it.
v. Wherefore he did it.
vi. How he did it.
vii. At what time he did it.

"The circumstances in Meter."

Who, what, and where, by what help, and by whose:
Why, how, and when, do many things disclose.

These places help wonderfully to set out any matter, and to amplify it to the uttermost, not only in praising, or dispraising, but also in all other causes, where any advisement is to be used. Yet this one thing is to be learned, that it shall not be necessary to use them altogether, even as they stand in order: but rather as time and place shall best require, they may be used in any part of the Oration, even as it shall please him that hath the using of them. Again, if any man be disposed to rebuke any offence, he may use the places contrary unto them that are above rehearsed, and apply these circumstances, even as they are, to the proof of his purpose.

"An example of commending King David, for killing great Goliath, gathered and made, by observation of circumstances."

God being the author of mankind, pouring into him the breath of life, and framing him of clay, in such a comely wise as we all now see, hath from the beginning, been so careful over his elect and chosen, that in all dangers, he is ever ready to assist his people, keeping them harmless, when they were often past all man's hope. And among all other his fatherly goodness, it pleased him to show his power to his chosen servant David, that all might learn to know his might, and reckon with themselves, that though man give the stroke, yet God it is that giveth the overhand. For whereas David was of small stature, weak of body, poor of birth, and base in the sight of the worldlings, God called him first to match with an huge monster; a little body, against a mighty Giant; an abject Israelite, against a most valiant Philistine, with whom no Israelite durst encounter. These Philistines minded the murder and overthrow, of all the Israelites, trusting in their own strength so much that they feared no peril, but made an account, that all was theirs before hand. Now, when both these armies were in sight, the Philistines upon an hill of the one side, and the Israelites upon an hill of the other side, a vale being betwixt them both, there marched out of the Camp a base borne Philistine, called Goliath of Geth, a man of six Cubits high. This Soldier, when, through his bigness and stature of his body, and also with great brags and terrible threatening, he had wonderfully abashed the whole Army of the Israelites, so that no man durst adventure upon him. God to the end he might deliver Israel, and show that man's help, with all his armour, little avail to get victory, without his especial grace: and again, to the end he might set up David, and make him honourable among the Israelites, did then call out David, the son of Ephrateus, of Bethlehem Judah, whose name was Isaiah, who being but a child in years, did kill out of hand, by God's might and power, Goliath the most terrible enemy of all other, that bare hate against the children of Israel. When this mighty fellow was slain, about the vale of Terebinthus, betwixt both the Armies, the Israelites rejoiced that before quaked, and wondered at him then, whom they would scant know before, and no doubt this deed was not only wonderful, but also right godly. For in battle to kill an enemy, is thought right worthy, or to adventure upon a Rebel (though the success follow not) is generally commended, yea, to put one to the worse, or to make him fly the ground, is called manly, but what shall we say of David, that not only had the better hand, not only beat his enemy, but killed straight his enemy, yea, and not an enemy of the common stature of men, but a mighty Giant, not a man but a monster, yea, a devil in the heart, and a beast in body? Can any be counted more honest than such as seek to save their Country, by hazarding their carcasses, and shedding of their blood? Can love show itself greater, than by yielding of life, for the health of an army? It had been much, if half a dozen had dispatched such a terrible Giant, but now, when David without help, being not yet a man but a boy in years, slew him hand to hand, what just praise doth he deserve? If we praise other that have slain evil men, and count them haughty, that have killed their matches, what shall we say of David, that being wonderfully overmatched, made his party good, and got the Goal of a Monster. Let others praise Hercules, that think best of him: let Caesar, Alexander, and Hannibal be bruited for Warriors: David in my judgement, both did more manly than all the other were able, and served his Country in greater danger, than ever any one of them did. And shall we not call such a noble Captain, a good man of war. Deserveth not his manhood and stout attempt, wonderful praise? If virtue could speak, would she not soon confess that David had her in full possession? And therefore, if well doings by right may challenge worthy Brute, David will be known, and never can lack due praise, for such an honest deed. And what man will not say, but that David did mind nothing else herein, but the safeguard of his Country, thinking it better for himself to die, and his Country to live, than himself to live, and his Country to die. What gain got David, by the death of Goliath, or what could be hope, by the death of such a Monster, but only that the love which he bare to the Israelites, forced him to hazard his own life: thinking that if the Philistines should prevail, the Israelites were like to perish, every mother's son of them? Therefore, he hazarding this attempt, considered with himself, the safeguard of the Israelites, the maintenance of Justice, his duty towards God, his obedience to his Prince, and his love to his Country. And no doubt, God made this enterprise appear full easy, before David could have the heart to match himself with such a one. For thought his heart might quake, being void of God's help, yet assuredly he wanted to stomach, when God did set him on. Let Tyrants rage, let Hell stand open, let Satan show his might, if God be with us, who can be against us? Though this Goliath appeared so strong, that ten Davids were not able to stand in his hand: yet ten Goliaths were all ever weak for David alone. Man can not judge, neither can reason comprehend the mighty power of God.

When Pharaoh with all his Army, thought fully to destroy the children of Israel in the Red Sea, did not God preserve Moses, and destroyed Pharaoh? What is man, and all his power that he can make, in the hands of God, unto whom all creatures both in heaven and in earth, are subject at his commandment? Therefore, it was no mastery for David, being assisted with God, as well to match with the whole Army, as to overthrow one man. But what did the Israelites, when they saw David take upon him such a bold enterprise? Some said he was sash, others mocked him to scorn, and his brethren called him fool. For, thought they, what a mad fellow is he, being but a lad in years, to match with such a monster in body? How can it be possible otherwise, but that he shall be torn in pieces, even at the first coming? For if the Philistine may once hit him, he is gone though he had ten men's lives. Now what should he mean, so unequally to match himself, except he were weary of his life, or else were not well in his wits? Yea, and to give his enemies all the advantage that could be, he came unarmed, and whereas the Philistine had very strong armour, both to defend himself, and a strong weapon to fight withal: David came with a sling only, as though he would kill crows, whereat, not only the Philistine laughed and disdained his folly, but also both the armies thought he was but a dead man, before he gave one stroke. And in deed, by all reason and device of man, there was no other way, but death with him out of hand. David notwithstanding, being kindled in heart, with God's might, was strong enough for him, in his own opinion, and forced nothing though all other were much against him. And therefore, made no more ado, but being ready to revenge in God's name, such great blasphemy as the Philistine then did utter: marched toward his enemy, and with casting a stone out of a Sling, he overthrew the Philistine at the first. The which when he had done, out with his sword and chopped off his head, carrying it with his armour, to the Camp of the Israelites: whereat the Philistines were greatly astonished, and the Israelites much praised God, that had given such grace to such a one, to compass such a deed. And the rather this manly act is highly to be praised, because he subdued this huge enemy, when Saul first reigned King of Israel, and was sore assailed with the great army of the Philistines. Let us therefore that be now living, when this act or such like come into our minds: remember what God is, of how infinite power he is, and let us praise God in them, by whom he hath wrought such wonders, to the strengthening of our faith, and constant keeping of our procession, made to him by every one of us in our Baptism.

"Examining of the circumstances."

i. Who did the deed?
David being an Israelite, did this deed, being the son of Isaiah, of the tribe of Judah, a boy in years. This circumstance was used, not only in the narration, but also when I spake of the honesty and godliness, which David used, when he slew Goliath.

ii. Where was it done?
About the vale of Terebinthus.

iii. What help had he to it?
He had no help of any man but went himself alone. And whereas, Saul offered him harness, he cast it away, and trusting only in God, took him to his sling, with four or five small stones in his hand, the which were thought nothing in man's sight, able either to do little good, or else nothing at all. This circumstance I used, when I spake of the easiness and possibility, that was in David to kill Goliath, by God's help.

v. Wherefore did he it?
He adventured his life, for the love of his Country, for the maintenance of justice, for the advancement of God's true glory, and for the quietness of all Israel, neither seeking fame, nor yet looking for any gain. I used this circumstance when I showed what profit he sought in adventuring this deed.

vi. How did he it?
Marry, he put a stone in his Sling, and when he had cast it at the Philistine Goliath fell down straight. I used this circumstance, when I spake of the impossibility of the thing.

vii. What time did he it?
This deed was done, when Saul reigned first King over the Israelites, at what time the Philistines came against the Israelites.

Thus by the circumstances of things, a right worthy cause may be plentifully enlarged.

"Of the Oration demonstrative, where things are set forth, and matter commended."

The kind demonstrative of things is a mean whereby we do praise, or dispraise things, as Virtue, Vice, Towns, Cities, Castles, Woods, Waters, Hills and Mountains.

"Places to confirm things are four."

i. Things honest.
ii. Profitable.
iii. Easy to be done.
iv. Hard to be done.

Many learned will have recourse to the places of Logic, instead of these four places, when they take in hand to commend any such matter. The which places if they make them serve, rather to commend the matter, than only to teach men the truth of it, it were well done, and orator like, for seeing a man wholly bestoweth his wit to play the orator, he should chiefly seek to compass that, which he intendeth, and not do that only which he never minded; for by plain teaching the Logician shows himself; by large amplification and beautifying of his cause, the Rhetorician is always known.

"The places of Logic are these."

Definition.
Causes.
Parts.
Effects.
Things adjoining.
Contraries.

I do not see otherwise, but that these places of Logic are confounded with the other four of confirmation, or rather I think these of Logic must first be minded, ere the other can well be had. For what is he, that can call a thing finest, and by reason prove it, except he first know what the thing is: the which he cannot better do, than by defining the nature of the thing. Again, how shall I know, whether mine attempt be easy or hard if I know not the efficient cause, or be assured how it may be done. In affirming it to be possible, I shall not better know it than by searching the end, and learning by Logic, what is the final cause of every thing.

"An example in commendation of Justice, or true dealing."

So many as look to live in peaceable quietness (being minded rather to follow reason, than to be led by wilful affection) desire Justice in all things, without the which no country is able long to continue. Then may I be bold to commend that, which all men wish, and few can have, which all men love, and none can lack: not doubting, but as I am occupied in a good thing, so all good men will hear me with a good will. But would God I were so well able to persuade all men to Justice, as all men know the necessary use thereof: and then undoubtedly, I would be much bolder, and force some by violence, which by fair words cannot be entreated. And yet what needs any persuasion for that thing, which by nature is so needful, and by experience so profitable, that look what we lack, without Justice we get not, look what we have, without Justice we keep not. God grant us his grace so to work in the hearts of all men, that they may as well practice well doing in their own life, as they would that other should follow Justice in their life: I for my part will bestow some labour, to set forth the goodness of upright dealing, that all other men the rather may do thereafter. That if through my words, God shall work with any man, then may I think my self in happy case, and rejoice much in the travail of my wit. And how can it be otherwise, but that all men shall be forced inwardly to allow that, which in outward act many do not follow: seeing God poured first this law of nature into man's heart, and granted it as a means whereby we might know his will, and (as I might say) talk with him, grounding still his doings upon this point, that man should do as he would be done unto, the which is nothing else, but to live uprightly, without any will to hurt his neighbour. And therefore, having this light of God's will opened unto us, through his mere goodness, we ought evermore to refer all our actions unto this end, both in giving judgement, and devising Laws necessary for man's life. And hereupon it is, that when men desire the Law, for trial of a matter, they mean nothing else but to have Justice, the which Justice is a virtue that yieldeth to every man his own: to the ever living God love above all things: to the King obedience: to the inferior good counsel: to the poor man, mercy: to the hateful and wicked, sufferance: to itself, truth: and to all men, perfect peace and charity. Now, what can be more said, in praise of this virtue, or what thing can be like praised? Are not all things in good case, when all men have their own? And what other thing doth Justice, but seeketh means to content all parties? Then how greatly are they to be praised, that mean truly in all their doings, not only do no harm to any, but seek means to help all. The sun is not so wonderful to the world (saith Aristotle) as the just dealing of a governor is marvellous to all men. No, the earth yieldeth no more gain to all creatures, than doth the justice of a Magistrate to his whole Realm. For by a Law, we live, and take the fruits of earth, but where no Law is, nor Justice used; there nothing can be had, though all things be at hand: for in having the thing, we shall lack the use, and living in great plenty, we shall stand in great need. The mean therefore, that maketh men to enjoy their own, is Justice, the which being once taken away, all other things are lost with it, neither can any one save that he hath, nor yet get that he lacketh. Therefore, if wrong doing should be borne withal, and not rather punished by death, what man could live in rest? Who could be sure either of his life, or of his living one whole day together? Now, because every man desireth the preservation of himself, every man should in like case desire the safeguard of his neighbour. For if I should wholly mind my own ease, and follow gain without respect to the hindrance of my even Christian: why should not other use the same liberty, and so every man for himself, and the Devil for us all, catch that catch may? The which custom if all men followed, the earth would soon be void, for lack of men one would be so greedy to eat up an other. For in seeking to live, we would lose our lives, and in gaping after goods, we should soon go naked. Therefore, to repress this rage, and with wholesome devices to trim men in an order, God hath lightened man with knowledge, that in all things he may see what is right, and what is wrong, and upon good advisement deal justly with all men. God hath created all things for man's use, and ordained man for man's sake, that one man might help another. For though some one have gifts more plentifully than the common sort, yet no man can live alone, without help of other. Therefore we should strive one to help an other by just dealing, some this way, and some that way, as every one shall have need, and as we shall be always best able, wherein the law of nature is fulfilled, and God's commandment followed. We love them here in earth, that give us fair words, and we can be content, to speak well of them that speak well of us? and shall we not love them, and take them also for honest men, which are contented from time to time to yield every man his own, and rather would die than consent to evil doing: If one be gentle in outward behaviour, we like him well, and shall we not esteem him that is upright in his outward living? And like as we desire, that other should be to us, ought not we to be likewise, affected towards them? Even among brute Beasts, nature hath appointed a law, and shall we men live without a law? The Stork being not able to feed herself for age, is fed of her young ones, wherein is declared a natural love, and shall we so live that one shall not love an other? Man should be unto man as a God, and shall man be unto man as a devil? Hath God created us, and made us to his own likeness, enduing us with all the riches of the earth, that we might be obedient to his will, and shall we neither live his, nor like his? How can we say that we love God, if there be no charity in us? Do I love him, whose mind I will not follow, although it be right honest? If you love me (saith Christ) follow my Commandments. Christ's will is such, that we should love God above all things, and our neighbour as our self. Then if we do not Justice (wherein love doth consist) we do neither love man, nor yet love God. The Wiseman saith: The beginning of a good life is to do Justice. Yea, the blessing of the Lord is upon the head of the just. Heaven is theirs (saith David) that do justly from time to time. What else then shall we do, that have any hope of the general resurrection, but do the will of God, and live justly all the days of our life? Let every man, but consider with himself, what ease he shall find thereby, and I doubt not, but every one deeply weighing the same, will in heart confess, that Justice maketh plenty, and that no one man could long hold his own if laws were not made, to restrain man's will. We travail now, Winter and Summer, we watch and take thought for maintenance of wife and children, assuredly purposing (that though God shall take us immediately) to leave honestly for our family. Now, to what end were all our gathering together, if just dealing were set a side, if Laws bare no rule, if that the wicked list, that they may, and what they may, that they can, and what they can, that they dare, and what they dare, the same they do, and whatsoever they do, no man of power is aggrieved therewith? What maketh wicked men (which else would not) acknowledge the King as their sovereign Lord, but the power of a law, and the practise of Justice for evil doers? Could a Prince maintain his state royal, if law and right had not provided, that every man should have his own? Would servants obey their masters, the son his father, the Tenant his Landlord, the Citizen his Mayor or Sheriff, if orders were not set, and just dealing appointed for all states of men? Therefore, the true meaning folk in all ages give themselves some to this occupation, and some to that, seeking therein nothing else but to maintain a poor life, and to keep themselves true men, both to God and the world. What maketh men to perform their bargains, to stand to their promises, and yield their debts, but an order of a law grounded upon Justice? Where right beareth rule, there craft is counted vice. The liar is much hated where truth is well esteemed. The wicked thieves are hanged where good men are regarded. None can hold up their heads, or dare show their faces, in a well ruled commonweal, that are not thought honest, or at the least have some honest way to live. The Egyptians therefore, having a worthy and a well governed commonweal, provided that none should live idly, but that every one monthly should give an account, how he spent his time, and had his name registered in a book for the same purpose. But Lord, if this law were used in England, how many would come behind hand with their reckonings at the audit day. I fear me their doings would be such, that it would be long ere they got their quietus est. The more the worse is our state, the less that this evil is looked unto. And surely, if in other things we should be as negligent, this Realm could not long stand. But thanks be to God, we hang them apace that offend a law, and therefore, we put it to their choice, whether they will be idle, and so fall to stealing, or no? They know their reward, go to it when they will. But if therewithal some good order were taken, for education of youth, and setting loiterers on work (as thanks be to God, the City is most godly bent that way) all would soon be well, without all doubt. The wise and discrete persons in all ages sought all means possible to have an order in all things, and loved by Justice to direct all their doings, whereby appeareth both an apt will in such men, and a natural stirring by God's power, to make all men good. Therefore if we do not well, we must blame ourselves that lack a will, and do not call to God for grace. For though it appear hard to do well, because no man can get perfection without continuance, yet assuredly to an humble mind that calleth to God, and to a willing heart that fain would do his best, nothing can be hard. God hath set all things to sale for labour, and keepeth open shop come who will. Therefore in all ages whereas we see the fewest good, the most did lack good will to ask, or seek for the same. Lord what love had that worthy Prince Seleucus to maintain Justice, and to have good laws kept, of whom such a wonderful thing is written. For whereas he established most wholesome laws, for safeguard of the Locrensians, and his own son thereupon taken in adultery, should lose both his eyes, according to the law then made, and yet notwithstanding the whole City thought to remit the necessity of his punishment, for the honour of his father, Seleucus would none of that in any wise. Yet at last, through importunity being overcome, he caused first one of his own eyes to be plucked out, and next after, one of his son's eyes, leaving only the use of sight to himself and his son. Thus through equity of the law, he used the due mean of chastisement, showing himself by a wonderful temperature, both a merciful father, and a just law maker. Now happy are they that thus observe a Law, thinking loss of body less hurt to the man, than sparing of punishment meet for the soul. For God will not fail them, that have such a desire to follow his will; but for his promise sake, he will reward them for ever. And now, seeing that Justice naturally is given to all men, without the which he could not live, being warned also by God, always to do uprightly, perceiving again the commodities that redound unto us, by living under a Law, and the safeguard wherein we stand, having Justice to assist us: I trust that not only all men, will commend Justice in word, but also will live justly in deed, the which that we may do: God grant us of his grace. Amen.

"An Oration deliberative."
An Oration deliberative, is a mean whereby we do persuade, or dissuade, entreat, or rebuke, exhort, or dehort, commend, or comfort any man. In this kind of Oration, we do not purpose wholly to praise anybody, nor yet to determine any matter in controversy, but the whole compass of this cause is, either to advise our neighbour to that thing which we think most needful for him, or else to call him back from that folly which hindereth much his estimation. As for example, if I would counsel my friend to travel beyond the Seas, for knowledge of the tongues, and experience in foreign Countries: I might resort to this kind of Oration, and find matter to confirm my cause plentifully. And the reasons which are commonly used to enlarge such matters are these that follow:

The thing is honest.
Safe.
Profitable.
Easy.
Pleasant.
Hard.
Lawful and meet.
Praiseworthy.
Necessary.

Now in speaking of honesty, I may by division of the virtues make a large walk. Again, look what laws, what customs, what worthy deeds, or sayings have been used heretofore, all these might serve well for the confirmation of this matter, lastly where honesty is called in to establish a cause, there is nature and GOD himself present, from whom commeth all goodness. In the second place, where I spake of profit, this is to be learned, that under the same is comprehended the getting of gain, and the eschewing of harm. Again, concerning profit (which also beareth the name of goodness) it partly pertaineth to the body, as beauty, strength, and health, partly to the mind, as the increase of wit, the getting of experience, and heaping together of much learning: and partly to fortune (as Philosophers take it) whereby both wealth, honour, and friends are gotten. Thus he that divideth profit cannot lack matter. Thirdly, in declaring it is pleasant, I might heap together the variety of pleasures which come by travel, first the sweetness of the tongue, the wholesomeness of the air in other Countries, the goodly wits of the Gentlemen, the strange and ancient buildings, the wonderful Monuments, the great learned Clerks in all faculties, with diverse otherlike, and almost infinite pleasures.

The easiness of travel, may thus be persuaded, if we show that free passage is by wholesome laws appointed, for all strangers and way-farers. And seeing this life is none other thing but a travel, and we as Pilgrims, wander from place to place, much fondness it were to think that hard, which nature hath made easy, yea, and pleasant also. None are more healthful, none more lusty, none more merry, none more strong of body, than such as have travelled Countries. Marry unto them, that had rather sleep all day, than wake one hour (choosing for any labour, slothful idleness) thinking this life to be none other but a continual resting place, unto such party it shall seem painful to abide any labour. To learn Logic, to learn the Law, to some it seemeth so hard, that nothing can enter into their heads: and the reason is that they lack a will, and an earnest mind to do their endeavour. For unto a willing heart nothing can be hard, lay load on such a man's back and his good heart, may sooner make his back to ache, than his good will can grant to yield, and refuse the weight. And now where the sweet hath his sour joined with him, it shall be wisdom to speak somewhat of it, to mitigate the sourness thereof, as much as may be possible.

That is lawful and praiseworthy, which Laws do grant, good men do allow, experience commendeth, and men in all ages have most used.

A thing is necessary two manner of ways. First, when either we must do some one thing, or else do worse. As if one should threaten a woman, to kill her if she would not lie with him, wherein appeareth a forcible necessity. As touching travel we might say, either a man must be ignorant of many good things, and lack great experience, or else he must travel. Now to be ignorant is a great shame; therefore to travel is most needful, if we will avoid shame. The other kind of necessity is when we persuade men to bear those things patiently, when we persuade men to bear those crosses patiently, which God doth send us, considering, will we, or nill we, needs must we abide them.

"To advise one, to Study the laws of England."
Again, when we see our friend inclined to any kind of study, by reason persuade him, that it were the meetest way for him to do his Country most good. As if he give his mind to the laws of the Realm, and find an aptness thereunto, we may advise him to continue in his good intent, and by reason persuade him that it were most meet for him so to do. And first we might show him that the study is honest and godly, considering it only follows Justice, and is grounded wholly upon natural reason. Wherein we might take a large scope, if we should fully speak of all things that are comprehended under honesty. For he that will know what honesty is, must have an understanding of all the virtues together. And because the knowledge of them is most necessary, I will briefly set them forth. There are four especial and chief virtues, under whom all other are comprehended.

Prudence, or wisdom.
Justice.
Manhood.
Temperance.

Prudence, or wisdom (for I will here take them both for one) is a virtue that is occupied evermore in searching out the truth.

Now, we all love knowledge, and have a desire to pass others therein, and think it shame to be ignorant: and by studying the law, the truth is gotten out; by knowing the truth, wisdom is attained. Wherefore, in persuading one to study the law, you may show him, that he shall get wisdom thereby. Under this virtue are comprehended.

Memory.
Understanding.
Foresight.

The memory calleth to account those things that were done heretofore, and by a former remembrance getteth an after wit, and learneth to avoid deceit.

Understanding seeth things presently done, and perceiveth what is in them, weighing and debating them, until his mind be fully contented.

Foresight, is a gathering by conjectures, what shall happen, and an evident perceiving of things to come, before they do come.

Justice is a virtue gathered by long space, giving every one his own, minding in all things the common profit of our Country, whereunto man is most bound and oweth his full obedience.

Now, Nature first taught man to take this way, and would every one so to do unto an other, as he would be done unto himself. For whereas Rain watered all in like, the Sun shineth indifferently over all, the fruit of the earth increaseth equally. God warns us to bestow our good will after the same sort, doing as duty bindeth us, and as necessity shall best require. Yea, God granteth his gifts diversely among men, because he would man should know and feel that man is borne for man, and that one hath need of another. And therefore though nature hath, concerning his commodity, many have turned the law of nature into an ordinary custom, and followed the same as though they were bound to it by a law. Afterward, the wisdom of Princes, and the fear of God's threat, which was uttered by his word, forced men by a law, both to allow things confirmed by nature, and to bear with old custom, or else they should not only suffer in body temporal punishment, but also lose their souls for ever. Nature is a right that fantasy hath not framed, but God hath graced and given man power thereunto, whereof these are derived:

Religion, and acknowledging of God.
Natural love to our children, and other.
Thankfulness to all men.
Stoutness, both to withstand and revenge.
Reverence to the superior.
Assured and constant truth in things.

Religion, is an humble worshipping of GOD, acknowledging him to be the creator of Creatures, and the only giver of all good things.

Natural love, is an inward good will, that we bear to our parents, wife, children, or any other that be nigh of kin unto us, stirred thereunto not only by our flesh, thinking that like as we would love ourselves, so we should love them, but also by a likeness of mind: and therefore generally we love all, because all be like unto us, but yet we love them most, that both in body and mind be most like unto us. And hereby it commeth, that often we are liberal and bestow our goods upon the needy, remembering that they are all one flesh with us, and should not lack when we have it,without our great rebuke and token of our most unkind dealing.

Thankfulness is a requiting of love, for love, and will, for will, showing to our friends, the like goodness that we find in them: yea, striving to pass them in kindness, losing neither time nor tide to do them good.

Stoutness to withstand and revenge evil is then used when either we are like to have harm, and do withstand it, or else when we have suffered evil for the truth sake, and thereupon do revenge it, or rather punish the evil, which is in the man.

Reverence is an humbleness in outward behaviour, when we do our duty to them, that are our betters, or unto such as are called to serve the King in some great vocation.

Assured and constant truth is when we do believe that those things, which are, or have been, or hereafter are about to be, cannot otherwise be, by any means possible.

That is right by custom, which long time hath confirmed, being partly grounded upon nature, and partly upon reason, as where we are taught by nature, to know the ever living God, and to worship him in spirit, we turning nature's light into blind custom, without God's will, have used at length to believe, that he was really with us here in earth, and worshipped him not in spirit, but in Copes, in Candlesticks, in Belles, in Tapers, and in Censers, in Crosses, in Banners, in Shaven Crowns, and long Gowns, and many good morrows else, devised only by the fantasy of man, without the express will of God. The which childish toys, time hath so long confirmed, that the truth is scant able to try them out, our hearts be so hard, and our wits be so far to seek. Again, where we see by nature that every one should deal truly, custom increaseth nature's will, and maketh by ancient demean things to be justly observed, which nature hath appointed.

Bargaining.
As Commons, or equality.
Judgment given.

Bargaining is when two have agreed for the sale of some one thing, the one will make his fellow to stand to the bargain though it be to his neighbours undoing, resting upon this point, that a bargain is a bargain, and must stand without all exception, although nature requireth to have things done by conscience, and would that bargaining should be builded upon justice, whereby an upright dealing and a charitable love is uttered amongst all men.

Commons or equality is when the people by long time have a ground, or any such thing among them, the which some of them will keep still for custom sake, and not suffer it to be fenced, and so turned to pasture, though they might gain ten times the value: but such stubbornness in keeping of commons for custom sake, is not standing with Justice, because it is held against all right.

Judgement given is when a matter is confirmed by a Parliament, or a Law determined by a Judge, unto the which many headstrong men will stand to die for it, without sufferance of any alteration, not remembering the circumstance of things, and that time altereth good acts.

That is right by a law when the truth is uttered in writing, and commanded to be kept, even as it is set forth unto them.

"Fortitude or manhood."
Fortitude is a considerate hazarding upon danger, and a willing heart to take pains in behalf of the right. Now, when can stoutness be better used than in a just maintenance of the Law, and constant trying of the truth: Of this virtue, there are four branches.

Honourableness.
Stoutness.
Sufferance.
Continuance.

Honorableness is a noble ordering of weighty matters, with a lusty heart, and a liberal using of his wealth, to increase of honour.

Stoutness is an assured trust in himself, when he mindeth the compass of most weighty matters, and a courageous defending of his cause.

Sufferance is a willing and a long bearing of trouble and taking of pains: for the maintenance of virtue, and the wealth of his Country.

Continuance is a steadfast and constant abiding, in a purposed and well advised matter, not yielding to any man in quarrel of the right.

Temperance is a measuring of affections according to the will of reason, and a subsuming of lust unto the Square of honesty. Yea, and what one thing doth soon mitigate the immoderate passions of our nature than the perfect knowledge of right and wrong, and the just execution appointed by a law, for assuaging the wilful? Of this virtue there are three parts.

Sobriety.
Gentleness.
Modesty.

Sobriety is a bridling by discretion, the wilfulness of desire.

Gentleness is a calming of heat, when we begin to rage, and a lowly behaviour in all our body.

Modesty is an honest shamefastness, whereby we keep a constant look, and appear sober in all our outward doings. Now, even as we should desire the use of all these virtues, so should we eschew not only the contraries hereunto, but also avoid all such evils as by any means do withdraw us from well doing.

"It is profitable."
After we have persuaded our friend that the law is honest, drawing our arguments from the heap of virtues, we must go further with him, and bring him in good believe that it is very gainful. For many one seek not the knowledge of learning for the goodness sake, but rather take pains for the gain, which they see doth arise by it. Take away the hope of lucre, and you shall see few take any pains: no, not in the Vineyard of the Lord. For although none should follow any trade of life for the gain sake, but even as he seeth it is most necessary for the advancement of God's glory, and not pass in what estimation things are had in this world: yet because we are all so weak of wit in our tender years, that we can not weigh with ourselves what is best, and our body so nesh, that it looketh ever to be cherished, we take that which is most gainful for us, and forsake that altogether which we ought most to follow. So, that for lack of honest means, and for lack of good order: the best way is not used, neither is God's honour in our first years remembered. I had rather (said one) make my child a Cobbler than a Preacher, a Tankard bearer than a Scholar. For what shall my son seek for learning, when he shall never get thereby any living? Do ye not see how every one catcheth and pulleth from the Church what they can? I fear me one day they will pluck down Church and all. Call you this the Gospel, when men seek only to provide for their bellies, and care not a groat though their souls go to Hell? A patron of a Benefice will have a poor yngrame soul, to bear the name of a Parson for twenty marks or ten pound: and the patron himself, will take up for his snapshare, as good as an hundred marks. Thus God is robbed, learning decayed, England dishonoured, and honesty not regarded. The old Romans not yet knowing Christ, and yet being led by a reverent fear towards God made this law: Sacrum sacroue commendatum qui clepserit, rapseritue, paricida est. He that shall closely steal, or forcibly take away that thing which is holy, or given to the holy place, is a murderer of his country. But what have I said? I have a greater matter in hand than whereof I was aware. My pen hath run over far, when my leisure serveth not, nor yet my wit is able, to talk this case in such wise as it should be, and as the largeness thereof requireth. Therefore, to my Lawyer again, whom I doubt not to persuade, but that he shall have the Devil and all if he learn apace, and do as some have done before him. Therefore, I will show how largely this profit extendeth, that I may have him the sooner take this matter in hand. The law therefore, not only bringeth much gain with it, but also advanceth men, both to worship, renown, and honour. All men shall seek his favour for his learning sake; the best shall like his company for his calling: and his wealth with his skill shall be such, that none shall be able to work him any wrong. Some consider profit, by these circumstances following.

To whom.
When.
Where.
Wherefore.

Nether can I use a better order, than these circumstances minister unto me.

To whom therefore is the Law profitable? Marry, to them that be best learned, that have ready wits, and will take pains. When is the law profitable? Assuredly, both now and evermore, but especially in this age, where all men go together by the ears for this matter, and that matter. Such alteration hath been heretofore, that hereafter needs must ensue much alteration. And where is all this ado? Even in little England, or in Westminster hall, where never yet lacked business, nor yet ever shall. Wherefore is the Law profitable? undoubtedly, because no man could hold his own, if there were not an order to stay us, and a Law to restrained us. And I pray you, who getteth the money? The Lawyers no doubt. And were not Land sometimes cheaper bought, than got by the trial of a Law? Do not men commonly for trifles fall out? Some for lopping of a Tree spends all that ever they have; another for a Goose that grazeth upon his ground, tries the law so hard that he proves himself a Gander. Now, when men be so mad, is it not easy to get money among them?

Undoubtedly, the Lawyer never dieth a beggar. And no marvel, for an C. begs for him, and makes away all that they have, to get that of him, the which, the oftener he bestoweth, the more still he getteth. So that he gaineth always, as well by increase of learning, as by storing his purse with money, whereas the other get a warm Sun oftentimes, and a slap with a Fox tail, for all that ever they have spent. And why would they? Tufh! If it were to do again, they would do it: therefore, the Lawyer can never lack living till the earth lack men and all be void.

"The Law easy to many, and hard to some."
I doubt not, but my Lawyer is persuaded that the Law is profitable; now must I bear him in hand that it is an easy matter to become a Lawyer. The which, if I shall be able to prove, I doubt not, but he will prove a good Lawyer, and that right shortly. The Law is grounded upon reason. And what hardness is it for a man by a reason, to find out reason. That can not be strange unto him, the ground whereof is graced in his breast. What, though the Law be in a strange tongue, the words may be got without any pain, when the matter itself is compassed with ease. Tufh, a little Law will make a great show, and therefore, though it be much to become excellent, yet it is easy to get a taste. And surely for getting of money, a little will do as much good oftentimes, as a great deal. There is not a word in the Law, but it is a groat in the Lawyer's purse. I have known diverse, that by familiar talking and mouthing together, have come to right good learning, without any great book skill, or much beating of their brain, by any close study or secret musing in their Chamber. But where some say the Law is very hard, and discourage young men from the study thereof, it is to be understood of such as will take no pains at all, nor yet mind the knowledge thereof. For what is not hard to man, when he lacketh will to do his best? As good sleep, and say it is hard; as wake and take no pains.

The Law:
Godly.
Just.
Necessary.
Pleasant.

What needeth me, to prove the Law to be Godly, just, or necessary, seeing it is grounded upon God's will, and all Laws are made for the maintenance of Justice. If we will not believe that it is necessary, let us have Rebels again to disturb the Realm. Our nature is so fond, that we know not the necessity of a thing, till we find some lack of the same. Bows are not esteemed, as they have been among us Englishmen, but if we were once well beaten by our enemies, we should soon know the lack, and with feeling the smart, lament much our folly. Take away the Law, and take away our lives, for nothing maintaineth our wealth, our health, and the safeguard of our bodies, but the Law of a Realm, whereby the wicked are condemned, and the Godly are defended.

"An Epistle to persuade a young Gentleman to marriage, devised by Erasmus, in the behalf of his friend."

Albeit, you are wise enough of yourself, through that singular wisdom of yours (most loving cousin) and little need the advice of another, yet either for that old friendship which hath been betwixt us, and continued with our age, even from our Cradles, or for such your great good turns, showed at all times towards me, or else for that fast kindred and alliance which is betwixt us: I thought myself thus much to owe unto you, if I would be such a one indeed as you ever have taken me, that is to say, a man both friendly and thankful, to tell you freely (whatsoever I judged to appertain either to the safeguard or worship of you, or any of yours) and willingly to warn you of the same. We are better seen oftentimes in other men's matters, than we are in our own. I have felt often your advice in mine own affairs, and I have found it to be fortunate unto me, as it was friendly. Now, if you will likewise in your own matters follow my counsel. I trust it shall so come to pass, that neither I shall repent me for that I have given you counsel, not yet you shall forethink yourself that you have obeyed and followed mine advice. There was at supper with me the twelve day of April, when I lay in the Country, Antonius Baldus, a man (as you know) that most earnestly tendereth your welfare, and one that hath been always of great acquaintance and familiarity with your son-in-law: a heavy feast we had, and full of much mourning. He told me greatly to both our heaviness, that your mother that most Godly woman, was departed this life, and your sister being overcome with sorrow and heaviness had made herself a Nun, so that in you only remaineth the hope of issue, and maintenance of your stock.

Whereupon your friends with one consent, have offered you in marriage, a Gentlewoman of a good house, and much wealth, faire of body, very well brought up, and such a one as loveth you with all her heart. But you (either for your late sorrows, which you have in fresh remembrance, or else for religion sake) have so purposed to live a single life, that neither can you for love of your stock, neither for desire of Issue, nor yet for any entreaty of your friends can make, either by praying, or by weeping: be brought to change your mind. And yet notwithstanding all this (if you will follow my counsel) you shall be of an other mind, and leaving to live single, which both is barren, and smally agreeing with the state of man's Nature, you shall give your self wholly to most holy Wedlock. And for this part, I will neither wish, that the love of your friends (which else ought to overcome your nature) nor yet mine authority that I have over you, should do me any good at all, to compass this my request, if I shall not prove unto you by most plain reasons, that it will be both much more honest, more profitable, and also most pleasant for you to marry, than to live otherwise. Yea, what will you say if I prove it also, to be necessary for you at this time to marry. And first of all, if honesty may move you in this matter (the which among all good men ought to be of much weight) what is more honest than matrimony, the which Christ himself did make honest, when not only he vouchsafed to be at the Marriage with his mother, but also did consecrate the Marriage feast with the first miracle that ever he did upon earth? What is more holy than Matrimony, which the Creator of all things did institute, did fasten and make holy, and nature itself did establish? What is more praiseworthy, than that thing, the which, whosoever shall dispraise, is condemned straight for an Heretic? Matrimony is even as honourable, as the name of an Heretic is thought shameful. What is more right or meet, than to give that unto thy posterity, the which we have received of our ancestors? What is more inconsiderate, than under the desire of holiness, to eschew that as unholy, which God himself, the fountain and father of all holiness, would have to be counted is most holy? What is more unmanly than that man should go against the laws of mankind? What is more unthankful, than to deny that unto younglings, the which (if thou haddest not received of thine elders) thou couldest not have been the man living, able to have denied it unto them. That if you would know, who was the first founder of Marriage, you shall understand, that it came not up by Licurgus, nor yet by Moses, nor yet by Solomon: But it was first ordained and instituted by the chief founder of all things, commended by the same, made honourable, and made holy by the same. For, at the first when he made man of the earth, he did perceive that his life should be miserable and unsavoury, except he joined Eve as mate unto him. Whereupon he did not make the wife upon the same clay whereof he made man: but he made her of Adam's Ribs, to the end we might plainly understand, that nothing ought to be more dear unto us than our wife, nothing more nigh unto us, nothing surer joined, and (as a man would say) faster glued together. The self same God, after the general flood being reconciled to mankind, is said to proclaim this law first of all, not that men should live single, but that thy should increase, be multiplied and fill the earth. But how I pray you could this thing be, saving by Marriage and lawful coming together? And this least we should allege here, either the liberty of Moses' law, or else the necessity of that time: what other meaning else hath that common and commendable report of Christ in the Gospel, for this cause (saieth he) shall man leave father and mother, and cleave to his wife. And what is more holy than the reverence and love due unto parents? And yet the truth promised in Matrimony, is preferred before it, and by whose means? Marry by God himself, at what time? Forsooth not only among the Jews, but also among the Christians. Men forsake father and mother, and take themselves wholly to their wives. The son being past twenty years is free and at liberty. Yea, the son being abdicated becommeth no son. But it is death only that parteth married folk, if yet death doth part them. Now, if the other Sacraments should have the most reverence of all, the which was instituted of God, and that first and before all other. As for the other, they were instituted upon earth, this was ordained in Paradise: the other were given for a remedy, this was appointed for the fellowship of felicity: the other were applied to man's nature, after the fall; this only was given when man was in most perfect state. If we count those Laws good, that mortal men have enacted, shall not the law of Matrimony be most holy, which we have received of him, by whom we have received life, the which Law was then together enacted, when man was first created? And lastly, to strengthen this Law, with an example and deed done, Christ being a young man (as the story reporteth) was called to Marriage, and came thither willingly with his mother, and not only was he there present, but also he did honor the feast with a wonderful marvel, beginning first in none other place, to work his wonders and to do his miracles. Why then I pray you (will one say) how happeneth it, that Christ forbore Marriage? As though good sir, there are not many things in Christ, at the which we ought rather to marvel, than seek to follow. He was born, and had no father, he came into this world, without his mother's painful travail, he came out of the grave when it was closed up. What is not in him above nature? Let these things be proper unto him. Let us that live within the bounds of nature, reverence those things that are above nature, and follow such things as are within our reach, such as we are able to compass. But yet (you say) he would be born of a virgin: of a virgin (I grant) but yet of a married virgin. A virgin being a mother did most become God, and being married, she showed what was best for us to do. Virginity did become her, who being undefiled brought him forth by heavenly inspiration, that was undefiled. And yet Joseph being her husband doth commend unto us the law of chaste Wedlock. Yea, how could be better set out the society in Wedlock, than that willing to declare the secret society of his Divine nature, with the body and soul of man which is wonderful, even to the heavenly Angels, and to show his unspeakable and ever abiding love toward his church: He doth call himself the Bridegroom, and her the bride. Great is the Sacrament of matrimony (saieth Paul) betwixt Christ and his Church. If there had been under heaven, any holier yoke, if there had been any more religious covenant, than is Matrimony, without doubt the example thereof had been used. But what like thing do you read in all scripture of the single life? The Apostle Paul in the thirteenth Chapter of his Epistle to the Hebrews, calleth Matrimony honourable among all men, and the bed undefiled, and yet the single life is not so much as once named in the same place. Nay, they are not borne withal that live single, except they make some recompense, with doing some great thing. For else, if a man following the law of Nature, do labour to get children, he is ever to be preferred before him that liveth still unmarried, for none other end, but because he would be out of trouble, and live more free. We do read, that such as are in very deed chaste of their body, and live a virgin's life, have been praised: but the single life was never praised of itself. Now, again the law of Moses accursed the barrenness of married folk: and we do read that some were excommunicated, for the same purpose, and banished from the Altar. And wherefore I pray you? Marry sir, because that they like unprofitable persons, and living only to themselves, did not increase the world with any issue. In Deuteronomy, it was the chiefest token of God's blessings unto the Israelites, that none should be barren among them, neither man, nor yet woman. And Leah is thought to be out of God's favour because she could not bring forth children. Yea, and the Psalm of David. 128. it is counted one of the chiefest parts of bliss to be a fruitful woman. Thy wife (saieth the Psalm) shall be plentiful like a Vine. And thy children like the branches of Olives, round about thy table. Then if the law do condemn, and utterly disallow barren matrimony, it hath always much more condemned the single life of Bachelors. If the fault of nature hath not escaped blame, the will of man can never lack rebuke. If they are accursed that would have children, and can get none, what deserve they which never travail to escape barrenness? The Hebrews had such a reverence to married folk, that he which had married a wife, the same year should not be forced to go on warfare. A City is like to fall to ruin, except there be watchmen to defend it with armour. But assured destruction must here needs follow, except men through the benefit of marriage supply issue, the which through mortality do from time to time decay.

Over and besides this, the Romans did lay a penalty upon their back that lived a single life; yea, they would not suffer them to bear any office in the Commonweal. But they that had increased the world with issue had a reward by common assent, as men that did deserve well of their country. The old foreign laws did appoint penalties for such as lived single, the which although they were qualified by Constancius the Emperor, in the favour of Christ's Religion: yet these laws do declare how little it is for the commonwealth's advancement, that either a City should be lessened for love of sole life, or else that the Country should be filled full of Bastards. And besides this, the Emperor Augustus, being a sore punisher of evil behaviour, examined a soldier because he did not marry his wife, according to the laws, the which soldier had hardly escaped judgement, if he had not got three children by her. And in this point do the laws of the Emperors seem favourable to married folk, that they abrogate such vows as were proclaimed to be kept, and brought in by Miscella, and would that after the penalty were remitted, such covenants being made against all right and conscience should also be taken of none effect, and as void in the law. Over and besides this, Ulpianus doth declare, that the matter of Dowries was evermore, and in all places the chiefest above all other, the which should never have been so except there came to the Commonwealth, some special profit by Marriage. Marriage hath ever been reverenced, but fruitfulness of body hath been much more, for so soon as one got the name of a father, there descended not only unto him inheritance of land, but all bequests and goods of such his friends, as died intestate. The which thing appeareth plainly:

Through me thou art made, an heir to have land,
Thou hast all bequests one with an other:
All goods and cattle are come to thy hand,
Yea goods intestate, thou shalt have sure.

Now he that hath three children was more favoured, for he was exempted from all outward embassies. Again, he that had five children was discharged and free from all personal office, as to have the governance or patronage of young Gentlemen, the which in those days was a great charge, and full of pains, without any profit at all. He that had thirteen children was free by the Emperor Julianus's law, not only from being a man of arms, or a Captain over horsemen: but also from all other offices in the commonweal. And the wise founders of all laws give good reason why such favour was showed to married folk. For what is more blessfull than to live forever? Now, where as nature hath denied this, Matrimony doth give it by a certain sleight, so much as may be. Who doth not desire to be bruited, and live through fame among men hereafter? Now, there is no building of Pillars, no erecting of Arches, no blazing of Arms, that doth more set forth a man's name, than doth the increase of children. Albinus obtained his purpose of the Emperor Adrian, for none other desire of his but that he had begot an house full of children. And therefore the Emperor (to the hindrance of his treasure), suffered the children to enter wholly upon their fathers possession, forasmuch as he knew well that his Realm was more strengthened with increase of children, than with store of money. Again, all other Laws are neither agreeing for all Countries, not yet used at all time. Licurgus made a law that they which married not should be kept in Summer from the sight of stage Plays, and other wonderful shows, and in Winter, they should go naked about the Market place, and accursing themselves, they should confess openly that they had justly deserved such punishment, because they did not live according to the Laws. And without any more ado, will you know how much our old ancestors heretofore esteemed Matrimony? Weigh well, and consider the punishment for breaking of wedlock. The Greeks heretofore thought it meet to punish the breach of matrimony with battle that continued ten years. Yea, moreover not only by the Roman Law, but also by the Hebrews and strangers, adulterous persons were punished with death. If a thief paid four times the value of that which he took away, he was delivered: but an adulterous offence was punished with the sword. Among the Hebrews, the people stoned the adulterous to death with their own hands, because they had broken that without which the world could not continue. And yet they thought not this aforesaid Law sufficient enough, but granted further to run him through without Law, that was taken in adultery, as who should say, they granted that to the grace of married folk, the which they would hardly grant to him that stood in his own defence for safeguard of his life, as though he offended more heinously that took a man's wife, than he did that took away a man's life. Assuredly Wedlock must needs seem to be a most holy thing, considering that being once broken, it must needs be purged with man's blood, the revenger whereof is not forced to abide either Law or Judge, the which liberty is not granted any, to use upon him that hath killed, either his father or his mother. But what do we with these Laws written? This is the law of nature, not written in the Tables of Brass, but firmly printed in our minds, the which Law, whosoever doth not obey, he is not worthy to be called a man, much less shall he be counted a Citizen. For, if to live well (as the Stoics wisely do dispute) is to follow the course of nature, what thing is so agreeing with nature as Matrimony? For there is nothing so natural, not only unto mankind, but also unto all other living creatures, as it is for every one of them, to keep their own kind from decay, and through increase of issue, to make their whole kind immortal. The which thing (all men know) can never be done without Wedlock, and carnal copulation. It were a sour thing that brute beasts should obey the Law of nature, and men like Giants should fight against Nature, whose work, if we would narrowly look upon, we shall perceive that in all things here upon earth she would there should be a certain species of Marriage.

I will not speak now of Trees, wherein (as Pliny most certainly writeth) there is found Marriage, with some manifest difference of both kinds, that except the husband Tree do lean with his boughs, even as though he should desire copulation upon the women Trees, growing round about him. They would else altogether wax barren. The same Pliny also doth report that certain Authors do think there is both Male and Female, in all things that the earth yieldeth.

I will not speak of precious Stones, wherein the same Author affirmeth, and yet not he only neither, that here is both Male and Female among them. And I pray you, hath not GOD so knit all things together with certain links, that one ever seemeth to have need of another? What say you of the Sky or Firmament, that is ever stirring with continual moving? Doth it not play the part of a husband, while it puffeth up the earth, the mother of all things, and maketh it fruitful with casting seed (as a man would say) upon it. But I think it over tedious to run over all things. And to what end are these things spoken? Marry sir, because we might understand that through Marriage, all things are and do still continue, and with out the same, all things do decay and come to naught. The old ancient and most wise Poets do feign (who had ever a desire under the colour of fables to set forth precepts of Philosophy) that the Giants, which had Snakes feet, and were born of the earth, builded great hills that mounted up to heaven, minding thereby to be at utter defiance with God, and all his Angeles. And what meaneth this fable? Marry, it showeth unto us, that certain fierce and savage men, such as were unknown, could not abide wedlock for any world's good, and therefore they were stricken down headlong with lightning, that is to say: they were utterly destroyed, when they sought to eschew that, whereby the weal and safeguard of all mankind only doth consist.

Now again, the same Poets do declare that Orpheus the musician and minstrel, did stir and make soft with his pleasant melody, the most hard Rocks and stones. And what is their meaning herein? Assuredly nothing else, but that a wise and well spoken man did call back hard hearted men, such as lived abode like beasts from open whoredom, and brought them to live after the most holy laws of matrimony. Thus we see plainly that such a one as hath no mind of marriage, seemeth to be no man but rather a stone, an enemy to nature, a rebel to God himself, seeking through his own folly his last end and destruction.

Well, let us go on still (seeing we are fallen into fables, that are not fables altogether) when the same Orpheus, in the midst of Hell, forced Pluto himself and all the Devils there to grant him leave to carry away his wife Euridice what other thing do we think that the Poets meant, but only to set forth unto us, the love in wedlock the which even among the Devils was counted good and godly.

And this also makes well for the purpose, that in old time they made Jupiter Gamelius, the God of Marriage, and Juno Locina, Lady Midwife, to help such women as laboured in childbed, being fondly deceived, and superstitiously erring in naming of the God's: and yet not missing the truth in declaring that Matrimony is an holy thing, and meet for the worthiness thereof, that the Gods in heaven should have care over it. Among diverse Countries and diverse men there have been diverse laws and Customs used. Yet was there never any Country so savage, none so far from all humanity, where the name of Wedlock was not counted holy, and had in great reverence. This the "Thracian," this the "Sarmate," this the "Indian," this the "Grecian," this the "Latin," yea, this the "Britain" that dwelleth in the furthest part of all the world, or if there be any that dwell in the furthest part of all the world, or if there be any that dwell beyond them? Marry, because that thing must needs be common to all which the common mother unto all, hath grafted in us all, and hath so thoroughly grafted the same in us, that not only Stockdoves and Pigeons, but also the most wild beasts, have a Natural feeling of this thing. For the Lions are gentle against the Lioness. The Tigers fight for safeguard of their young whelps. The Ass runs through the hot fire (which is made to keep her away) for safeguard of her issue. And this they call the law of nature, the which as it is of most strength and force, so it spreadeth abroad most largely. Therefore, as he is counted no good Gardener, that being content with things present, doth diligently prune his old Trees, and hath no regard either to imp or graft young Sets: Because the self same Orchard (though it be never so well trimmed) must needs decay in time, and all the Trees die within few years: so he is not to be counted half a diligent Citizen, that being content with the present multitude, hath no regard to increase the number. Therefore, there is no one man, that ever hath been counted a worthy Citizen, who hath not laboured to get children, and sought to bring them up in godliness.

Among the Hebrews and the Persians, he was most commended that had most wives, as though the country were most beholding to him, that increase the same with the greatest number of children. Do you seek to be counted more holy than Abraham himself? Well, he should never have been counted the Father of many Nations, and that through God's furtherance, if he had forborne the company of his wife. Do you look to be reckoned more devout than Jacob. He doubted nothing to ransom Rachel from her great bondage. Will you be taken for wiser than Solomon? And yet I pray you, what a number of wives kept he in one house? Will you be counted more chaste than Socrates, who is reported to bear at home with Zantipe, that very shrew, and yet not so much therefore (as he is wont to jest, according to his old manner) because he might learn patience at home, but also because he might not seem to come behind with his duty, in doing the will of Nature. For he being a man, such a one (as Apollo judged him by his Oracle to be wise) did well perceive that he was got for this cause, born for this cause, and therefore bound to yield so much unto Nature. For, if the old ancient Philosophers have said well, if our Divines have proved the thing not without reason, if it be used everywhere, for a common Proverb, and almost in every man's mouth, that neither GOD, nor yet Nature, did ever make any thing in vain: Why did he give us such members, how happeneth we have such lust, and such power to get issue, if the single life and none other, be altogether praiseworthy? If one should bestow upon you a very good thing: as a Bow, a Coat, or a Sword, all men would think you were not worthy to have the thing, if either you could not, or you would not use it and occupy it. And whereas all other things are ordained upon such great considerations, it is not like that Nature slipped, or forgot herself when she made this one thing. And now here will some say, that this foul and filthy desire and stirring unto lust came never in by Nature, but through sin: for whose words I pass not a straw, seeing their sayings are as false as God is true. For I pray you was not matrimony instituted (whose work cannot be done without these members) before there was no sin. And again, whence have all other Beasts their provocations? Of Nature, or of sin? A man would think they had them of Nature. But shall I tell you at a word, we make that filthy by or own imagination, which of its own Nature is good and godly. Or else if we will examine matter (not according to the opinion of men, but weigh them as they are of their own Nature), how chanceth it, that we think it less filthy to eat, to chew, to digest, to empty the body, and to sleep, than it is to use carnal Copulation, such as is lawful and permitted. Now sir (you may say) we must follow virtue, rather than Nature. A gentle dish. As though any thing can be called virtue that is contrary unto Nature. Assuredly there is nothing that can be perfectly got, either through labour, or through learning, if man ground not his doings altogether upon Nature.

But you will live an Apostle's life, such as some of them did that lived single: and exhorted other to the same kind of life. Tufh, let them follow the Apostles that are Apostles indeed, whose office seeing it is both to teach, and bring up the people in God's doctrine, they are not able to discharge their duties, both to their flock and to their wife and family: although it is well known, that some of the Apostles had wives. But be it that Bishops live single, or grant we them to have no wives. What, do ye follow the procession of the Apostles, being one that is farthest in life from their vocation, being both a Temporal man, and one that liveth of your own. They had this pardon granted them to be clean void from Marriage, to the end they might be at leisure to get unto Christ a more plentiful number of his children. Let this be the order of Priests and Monks, who belike have entered into Religion and rule of the Essens (such as among the Jews loathed Marriage), but your calling is an other way. Nay, but (you will say) Christ himself hath counted them blessed, which have gelded themselves for the kingdom of God. Sir, I am content to admit the authority, but thus I expound the meaning. First, I think that this doctrine of Christ did chiefly belong unto that time when it behoved them chiefly to be void of all cares and business of this world. They were fain to travel into all places, for the persecutors were ever ready to lay hands on them. But now the world is so, that a man can find in no place the uprightness of behaviour less strained than among married folk.

Let the swarms of Monks and Nuns set forth their order never so much, let them boast and brag their bellies full, of their Ceremonies and Church service, wherein they chiefly pass all other, yet is Wedlock (being well and truly kept) a most holy kind of life. Again, would to God they were gelded in very deed, whatsoever they be that colour their naughty living, with such a jolly name of gelding, living in much more filthy lust, under the cloak and pretence of Chastity. Neither can I report for very shame, into how filthy offences they do often fall, that will not use that remedy which Nature hath granted unto man. And last of all, where do you read that ever Christ commanded any man to live single, and yet he doth openly forbid divorcement.

Then he doth not worst of all (in my judgement) for the Commonweal of mankind, that granted liberty unto Priests, yea, and Monks also (if need be) to marry, and to take them to their wives, namely, seeing there is such an unreasonable number everywhere, among whom I pray you, how many be there that live chaste. How much better were it to turn their Concubines into wives, that whereas they have them now to their great shame, with an unquiet conscience, they might have the other openly with good report, and get children, and also bring them up godly, of whom they themselves not only might not be ashamed, but also might be counted honest men for them. And I think the Bishops' officers would have procured this matter long ago, if they had not found greater gains by priests' lemans, than they were like to have by priests' wives.

But virginity forsooth is an heavenly thing, it is an Angel's life. I answer: Wedlock is a manly thing, such as is meet for man. And I talk now as man unto man. I grant you, that virginity is a thing praiseworthy, but so far I am content to speak in praise if it, if it be not so praised, as though the just should altogether follow it. For if men commonly should begin to like it, what thing could be invented more perilous to a commonweal than virginity? Now, be it that other deserve great praise for their maidenhead, you notwithstanding cannot lack great rebuke, seeing it lieth in your hands to keep that house from decay, whereof you're lineally descended, and to continue still the name of your ancestors, who deserve most worthily to be known for ever. And last of all, he deserveth as much praise as they which keep their maidenhood: that keeps himself true to his wife, and marrieth rather for increase of children, than to satisfy his lust. For if a brother be commanded to stir up seed to his brother that dieth without issue, will you suffer the hope of all your stock to decay: namely, seeing there is none other of your name and stock but yourself alone, to continue the posterity. I know well enough, that the ancient Fathers have set forth in great volumes the praise of virginity, among whom Jerome praiseth it so much above the Stars, that he fell in manner to deprave matrimony, and therefore was required of godly bishops to call back his words that he had spoken. But let us bear with such heat for that time sake, I would wish now that they which exhort young folk everywhere, and without respect (such as yet know not themselves) to live a single life, and to profess virginity, that they would bestow the same labour in setting forth the description of chaste and pure wedlock. And yet those bodies that are in such great love with virginity, are well contented that men should fight against the Turks, which in number are infinitely greater than we are. And now if these men think right in this behalf, it must needs be though right, good, and godly, to labour earnestly for children getting, and to substitute youth from time to time for the maintenance of war. Except peradventure they think that Guns, Bills, Pikes, and Navies should be provided for battle, and that men stand in no stead at all with them. They also allow it well that we should kill miscreant and heathen parents, that the rather their children not knowing of it might be baptized and made Christians. Now if this be right and lawful, how much more gentleness were it to have children baptized, being born in lawful marriage. There is no nation so savage, nor yet so hard hearted within the whole world, but the same abhorreth murdering of infants and new born babes. Kings also and head rulers do likewise punish most straightly all such as seek means to be delivered before their time, or use Physic to wax barren, and never to bear Children. What is the reason? Marry they count it small difference betwixt him that killeth the child so soon as it beginneth to quicken, and the other that seeketh all means possible never to have any child at all. The self same thing that either withereth and drieth away in the body, or else putrifieth within thee, and so hurteth greatly thy health, yea, that self same which falleth from thee in thy sleep, would have been a man, if thou thy self haddest been a man. The Hebrews abhor that man, and wish him God's curse, that (being commanded to marry with the wife of his dead brother) did cast his seed upon the ground, least any issue should be had, and he was ever thought unworthy to live, which was quick in the mother's womb. But I pray you, how little do they swerve from this offence, which bind themselves to live barren all the days of their life? Do they not seem to kill as many men as were like to have been born, if they had bestowed their endeavours to have got children? Now I pray you, if a man had land that were very fat and fertile, and suffered the same for lack of mannering for ever to wax barren, should he not, or were he not worthy to be punished by the Laws, considering it is for the commonweal's behove that every man should well and truly husband his own. If that man be punished, who little heedeth the maintenance of his tillage, the which although it be never so well mannered, yet it yieldeth children. And for ploughing land it is nothing else, but painful toiling from time to time: but in getting children there is a pleasure, which being ordained as a ready reward for pains taking, asketh a short travail for all the tillage. Therefore if the working of Nature, if honesty, if virtue, if inward zeal, if godliness, if duty may move you, why can you not abide that which God hath ordained, Nature hath established, reason doth counsel, God's word and man's word do commend, all Laws do commend, the consent of all Nations doth allow, whereunto also the example of all good men doth exhort you. That if every honest man should desire many things that are most painful for none other cause, but only for that they are honest, no doubt but Matrimony ought above all other most of all to be desired, as the which we may doubt, whether it have more honesty in it, or bring more delight and pleasure with it. For what can be more pleasant than to live with her, with whom not only you shall be joined in fellowship of faithfulness, and most hearty good will, but also you shall be coupled together most assuredly with the company of both your bodies: If we count that great pleasure which we receive of the good will of our friends and acquaintance, how pleasant a thing is it above all other to have one with whom you may break the bottom of your heart, with whom you may talk as freely as with yourself, into whose trust you may safely commit yourself, such a one as thinketh all your goods to be her charge. Now what an heavenly bliss (trowe you) is the company of man and wife together, seeing that in all the world there can nothing be found, either of greater weight and worthiness, or else of more strength and assurance. For with friends we join only with them in good will, and faithfulness of mind, but with a wife we are matched together, both in heart and mind, in body and soul, sealed together with the bond and league of an holy sacrament, and parting all the goods we have indifferently betwixt us. Again, when other are matched together in friendship, do we not see what dissembling they use, what falsehood they practise, and what deceitful parts they play? Yea, even those whom we think to be most assured friends: as swallows fly away when summer is past, so they hide their heads when fortune begins to fail. And oft times when we get a new friend, we straight forsake our old. We hear tell of very few that have continued friends even till their last end: whereas the faithfulness of a wife is not stained with deceit, nor dusked with any dissembling, nor yet parted with any charge of the world, but dissevered at last by death only, no not by death neither. She forsakes and sets light by father and mother, sister and brother for your sake, and for your love only. She only passeth upon you, she puts her trust in you, and leaneth wholly upon you, yea, she desires to die with you. Have you any worldly substance? You have one that will maintain it; you have one will increase it. Have you none? You have a wife that will get it. If you live in prosperity, your joy is doubled: if the world go not with you, you have a wife to put you in good comfort, to be at your commandment, and ready to serve your desire, and to wish that such evil as hath happened unto you, might chance unto herself. And do you think that any pleasure in all the world is to be compared with such a goodly fellowship and familiar living together? If you keep home, your wife is at hand to keep your company, the rather that you might feel no weariness of living all alone: if you ride forth, you have a wife to bid you farewell with a kiss, longing much for you being from home, and glad to bid you welcome home at your next return. A sweet mate in your youth; thankful comfort in your age. Every society or companying together is delightful, and wished for by Nature of all men, for as much as Nature hath ordained us to be sociable, friendly, and loving together. Now how can this fellowship of man and wife be otherwise than most pleasant, where all things are common together betwixt them both. Now I think he is most worthy to be despised above all other, that is born as a man would say for himself, that liveth to himself, that seeketh for himself, that spareth for himself, maketh cost only upon himself, that loveth no man, and no man loveth him. Would not a man think that such a monster, were meet to be cast out of all man's company (with Tymon that careth for no man) into the middest of the Sea. Neither do I here utter unto you these pleasures of the body, the which whereas Nature hath made to be most pleasant unto man, yet these great witted men rather hide them and dissemble them (I cannot tell how) than utterly contemn them. And yet what is he that is so sour of wit, and so drooping of brain (I will not say blockheaded, or insensate), that is not moved with such pleasure: namely, if he may have his desire without offence, either of God or man, and without hindrance of his estimation. Truly I would take such a one not to be a man, but rather to be a stone. Although this pleasure of the body is the least part of all those good things that are in wedlock. But be it that you pass not upon this pleasure, and think it unworthy for man to use it, although indeed we deserve not the name of man without it, but count it among the least and uttermost profits that wedlock hath. Now I pray you, what can be more heartily desired than chaste love? What can be more holy? What can be more honest? And among all these pleasures, you get unto you a jolly sort of kinsfolk, in whom you may take much delight. You have other parents, other brethren, sisters, and nephews. Nature indeed can give you but one father, and one mother: by Marriage you get unto you another father, and another mother, who cannot choose but love you with all their hearts, as the which have put into your hands their own flesh and blood. Now again, what a joy shall this be unto you, when your most fair wife shall make you a Father, in bringing forth a fair Child unto you? Where you shall have a pretty little boy, running up and down your house, such a one as shall express your look, and your wife's look, such a one as shall call you dad with his sweet lisping words. Now last of all, when you are thus linked in Love, the same shall be so fastened and bound together, as though it were with an Adamant stone, that Death itself can never be able to undo it. Thrice happy are they (quoth Horace) yea, more than thrice happy are they, whom these sure bands do hold; neither though they are by evil reports full oft set asunder, shall Love be unloosed betwixt them two, till Death them both depart. You have them that shall comfort you in your latter days, that shall close up your eyes when God shall call you, that shall bury you, and fulfil all things belonging to your Funeral, by whom you shall seem to be new born. For so long as they shall live, you will never be thought dead yourself. The goods and lands that you have got, go not to other heirs than to your own. So that unto such as have fulfilled all things that belong unto man's life, Death itself cannot seem bitter. Old age commeth upon us all, will we or nil we, and this way Nature provided for us, that we should wax young again in our children and nephews. For his own countenance, which he had being a child, will appear lively in his son. Death is ordained for all mankind, and yet by this means only, Nature by her providence mindeth unto us a certain immortality, while she increaseth one thing upon an other, even as a young grass buddeth out when the old Tree is cut down. Neither can he seem to die that when God calleth him leaveth a young child behind him. But I know well enough what you say to yourself all this while of my long talk. Marriage is an happy thing, if all things hap well. What if one have a curst wife? What if she be light? What if his children be ungracious? Thus I see you remember all such men as by marriage have been undone. Well, go to it, tell as many as you can, and spare not: you shall find all these were the faults of the persons, and not the faults of Marriage. For believe me, none have evil wives but such as are evil men. And as for you sir, you may choose a good wife if you list. But what if she be crooked and marred altogether, for lack of good ordering. A good honest wife may be made an evil woman by a naughty husband, and an evil wife hath been made a good woman by an honest man. We cry out of wives untruly, and accuse them without cause. There is no man (if you will believe me) that ever had an evil wife, but through his own default. Now again, an honest Father, bringeth forth honest children, like unto himself. Although even these children, howsoever they are born, commonly become such men as their education and bringing up is. And as for Jealousy, you shall not need to fear that fault at all. For none be troubled with such a disease but those only that are foolish Lovers. Chaste, godly, and lawful love never knew what jealousy meant. What mean you to call to your mind, and remember such sore Tragedies, and doleful dealings, as have been betwixt man and wife. Such a woman being naught of her body, hath caused her husband to lose his head; another have poisoned her good man; the third with her churlish dealing (which her husband could not bear) hath been his utter undoing, and brought him to his end. But I pray you sir, why do you not think upon Cornelia, wife unto Tiberius Graccus? Why do ye not mind that most worthy wife, or that most unworthy man Alcestes? Why remember ye not Julia, Pompei's wife, or Portia, Brutus's wife? And why not Artmesia, a woman most worthy ever to be remembered? Why not Hipsicrate wife unto Mithridates King of Pontus? Why do you not call to remembrance, the gentle nature of Tertia Aemilia? Why do ye not consider the faithfulness of Turia? Why commeth not Lucretia and Lentula to your remembrance? And why not Arria? Why not a thousand other, whose chastity of life and faithfulness towards their husbands could not be changed, no not by death. A good woman (you will say) is a rare bird, and hard to be found in all the world. Well then sir, imagine yourself worthy to have a rare wife, such as few men have. A good woman (saith the wise man) is a good portion. Be you bold to hope for such a one as is worthy your manners. The chiefest point standeth in this, what manner of woman you choose, how you use her, how you order yourself towards her. But liberty (you will say) is much more pleasant: for whosoever is married, weareth setters upon his legs, or rather carrieth a clog, the which he can never shake off, till Death part their yoke. To this I answer, I cannot see what pleasure a man shall have to live alone. For if liberty be delightful, I would think you should get a mate unto you, with whom you should part stakes, and make her privy of all your joys. Neither can I see anything more free than is the servitude of these two, where the one is so much beholding and bound to the other, that neither of them both would be loose though they might. You are bound unto him, whom you receive into your friendship; but in Marriage neither party findeth fault that their liberty is taken away from them. Yet once again you are sore afraid, least when your children are taken away by death, you fall to mourning for lack of issue. Well sir, if you fear lack of issue, you must marry a wife for the self same purpose, the which only shall be a mean, that you shall not lack issue. But what do you search so diligently, nay so carefully, all the incommodities of Matrimony, as though single life had never any incommodity joined with it at all. As though there were any kind of life in all the world, that is not subject to all evils that may happen. He must needs go out of this world, that looks to live without feeling of any grief. And in comparison of that life which the Saints of God shall have in heaven, this life of man is to be counted a death, and not a life. But if you consider things within the compass of mankind, there is nothing either more safe, more quiet, more pleasant, more to be desired, or more happy than is the married man's life. How many do you see, that having once felt the sweetness of Wedlock, doth not desire eftsoons to enter into the same? My friend Mauricius, whom you know to be a very wise man, did not he the next Month after his wife died (whom he loved dearly) get him straight a new wife? Not that he was impatient of his lust, and could not forbear any longer, but he said plainly, it was no life for him to be without a wife, which should be with him as his yokefellow, and companion in all things. And is not this the fourth wife that our friend Iouius hath married? And yet he so loved the other when they were alive that none was able to comfort him in his heaviness. And now he hastened so much (when one was dead) to fill up and supply the void room of his chamber, as though he had loved the other very little. But what do we talk so much of the honesty and pleasure herein, seeing that not only profit doth advise us, but also need doth earnestly force us to seek marriage. Let it be forbidden that man and woman shall not come together, and within few years all mankind must needs decay for ever. When Xerxes King of the Persians beheld from an high place that great Army of his, such as almost was incredible, some said he could not forbear weeping, considering of so many thousands, there was not one like to be alive within seventy years after. Now, why should not we consider the same of all mankind, which he meant only of his army. Take away marriage, and how many shall remain after a hundred years, of so many Realms, Countries, Kingdoms, Cities, and all other assemblies that be of men throughout the whole world? On now, praise we a God's name, the single life above the Rock, the which is like for ever to undo all mankind. What Plague, what infection can either Heaven or Hell send more harmful unto mankind? What greater evil is to be feared by any flood? What could be looked for more sorrowful, although the flame of Phaeton should set the world on fire again? And yet by such sore tempests, many things have been saved harmless, but by the single life of man there can be nothing left at all. We see what a sort of diseases, what diversity of mishaps do night and day lie in wait, to lessen the small number of mankind. How many doth the Plague destroy, how many do the Seas swallow, how many doth Battle snatch up? For I will not speak of the daily dying that is in all places. Death taketh her flight every where round about, she runs over them, she catches them up, she hastens as much as she can possibly to destroy all mankind. And now do we so highly commend single life, and eschew Marriage? Except haply we like the profession of the Essens (of whom Josephus speaketh, that they will neither have wife nor servants) or the Dolopolitans, called otherwise the rascals and slaves of cities, the which company of them is always increased, and continued by a sort of vagabond peasants that continue and be from time to time still together. Do we look that some Jupiter should give us that same gift, the which he is reported to have given unto bees, that he should have of the flowers, the seed of our posterity? Or else do we desire, that like as the Poets say of Minerva, to be borne out of Jupiter's heads: in like sort there should children leap out of our heads? Or last of all do we look, according as the old Fables have been, that men should be borne out of the earth, out of Rocks, out of stocks, stones, and old Trees. Many things breed out of the earth, without man's labour at all. Young shrubs grow and shoot up under the shadow of their grandsire Trees. But Nature would have man to use his own way of increasing issue, that through labour of both the Husband's and wife, mankind might still be kept from destruction. But I promise you, if all men took after you, and still forbear to marry: I cannot see but that these things which you wonder at and esteem so much, could not have been at all. Do you yet esteem this single life so greatly? Or do we praise so much virginity above all other? Why man, there will be either single men, nor virgins alive, if men leave to marry, and mind not procreation. Why do you then prefer virginity so much, why set it you so high, if it be the undoing of all the whole world? It hath been much commended, but it was for that time, and in few. God would have men to see, as though it were a pattern, or rather a picture of the heavenly habitation, where neither any man shall be married, nor yet any shall give theirs to marriage. But when things be given for example a few may suffice; a number were to no purpose. For even as all grounds, though they be very fruitful, are not therefore turned into tillage for man's use and commodity, but part lieth fallow, and is never mannered, part is kept and cherished to like the eye, and for man's pleasure: And yet in all the plenty of things, where so great store of land is, Nature suffereth very little to wax barren: but now if none should be tilled, and Ploughmen went to play, who seeth not but that we should all starve, and be seen shortly to eat Acorns: even so it is praiseworthy if a few live single, but if all should seek to live single, so many as be in this world, it were too great an inconvenience. Now again, be it that others deserve worthy praise that seek to live a virgin's life, yet it must need be a great fault in you. Others shall be thought to seek a pureness of life; you shall be counted a parricide, or a murderer of your stock, that whereas you may by honest marriage, increase your posterity, you suffer it to decay for ever through your wilful single life. A man may having an house full of children commend one to God to live a virgin all his life. The ploughman offereth to God the tenth of his own, and not his whole crop altogether: but you sir, must remember that there is none left alive of all your stock, but yourself alone. And now it mattereth nothing whether you kill, or refuse to save that creature, which you only might save and that with ease. But you will follow the example of your sister, and live single as she doth. And yet me thinketh you should chiefly, even for this self same cause be afraid to live single. For whereas there was hope of issue heretofore in you both, now you see there is no hope left but in you only. Be it that your sister may be borne withal, because she is a woman, and because of her years: for she being but a girl, and overcome with sorrow for loss of her Mother, took the wrong way: she cast her self down headlong and became a Nun, at the earnest suit either of foolish women, or else of doltish Monks: but you being much elder must evermore remember that you are a man. She would needs die together with her ancestors; you must labour that your ancestors shall not die at all. Your sister would not do her duty, but shrink away: think you now with yourself, that you have two offices to discharge. The daughters of Lot never stuck at the matter, to have ado with their drunken Father, thinking it better with wicked whoredome and incest, to provide for their posterity, than to suffer their stock to die for ever. And will not you with honest, godly, and chaste Marriage (which shall be without trouble, and turn to your great pleasure) have a regard to your posterity, most like else for ever to decay? Therefore, let them on God's name follow the purpose of chaste Hippolitus; let them live a single life that either can be married men, and yet can get no children, or else such whose stock may be continued by means of other their kinsfolk, or at the least whose kindred is such, that it were better for the Commonweal they were all dead, than any of that name should be alive, or else such men as the everliving God of his most especial goodness hath chosen out of the whole world, to execute some heavenly office, whereof there is a marvellous small number. But whereas you, according to the report of a physician, that neither is unlearned nor yet is any liar, are like to have many children hereafter, seeing also you are a man of great lands and revenues by your ancestors, the house where of you came being both right honourable, and right ancient, so that you could not suffer it to perish, without your great offence, and great harm to the Commonweal. Again, seeing you are of lusty years, and very comely for your personage, and may have a maid to your wife, such a one as none of your Country hath known any, to be more absolute for all things, coming of as noble a house as any of them, a chaste one, a sober one, a godly one, an excellent faire one, having with her a wonderful dowry, seeing also your friends desire you, your kinsfolk weep to win you, your cousins and alliance are earnest in hand with you, your country calls and cries upon you, the ashes of your ancestors form their graves make hearty suit unto you, do you yet hold back? Do you still mind a single life? If a thing were asked you that were not half honest, or the which you could not well compass, yet at the instance of your friends, or for the love of your kinsfolk, you would be overcome, and yield to their requests: then how much more reasonable were it, that the weeping tears of our friends, the hearty good will of your Country, the dear love of your elders might win that thing at your hands, unto the which both the law of God and man doth exhort you? Nature pricketh you forward, reason leadeth you, honesty allureth you, so many commodities call you, and last of all, necessity itself doth constrain you. But here an end of all reasoning. For I trust you have now, and a good while ago changed your mind through mine advice, and take yourself to better counsel.

"An example of comfort."

Though mine enterprise may be thought foolish, and my doings very slender, in busying my brain to teach the expert to give counsel to other, when I lack it myself, and whereas more need were for me to be taught of other, than to take upon me to teach my betters, yet duty binding me to do my best, and among a number though I can do least, yet good will setting me forth with the foremost: I can not choose but write what I am able, and speak what I can possible, for the better comforting of your Grace, in this your great heaviness, and sore visitation sent from GOD, as a warning to us all. The physician then deserveth most thanks, when he practiseth his knowledge in time of necessity, and then travaileth most painfully when he feeleth his Patient to be in most danger. The soldier at that time, and at no time so much, is thought most trusty when he showeth at a need his faithful heart, and in time of extreme danger doth use, and bestow his most earnest labour. In the wealth of this world, what valiant man can lack assistance? What mighty Prince can miss any help to compass his desire? Who lacketh men, that lacketh no money?

But when God striketh the mighty with his strong hand, and displaceth those that were highly placed: what one man doth once look back, for the better easement of his dear brother, and Godly comforting his even Christian, in the chief of all his sorrow. All men commonly more rejoice in the Sun rising than they do in the Sun setting. The hope of lucre and expectation of private gain maketh many one to bear out a countenance of favour, whose heart is inwardly fretted with deadly rancour. But such friends even as prosperity doth get them, so adversity doth try them. God is the searcher of every man's thought, unto whose judgement I desire the assurance of my good will.

And though I can do little, and therefore deserve as little thanks, as I look for praise (which is none at all) yet will I endeavour earnestly at all times, as well for mine own discharge, to declare my duty, as at this present to say somewhat for the better easement of your Grace in this your heaviness. The passions of the mind have diverse effects and therefore work strangely, according to their properties. For, like as joy comforteth the heart, nourisheth blood, and quickneth the whole body, so heaviness and care hinder digestion, engender evil humours, waste the principal parts, and with time consume the whole body. For the better knowledge thereof, and for a lively sight of the same, we need not to seek far for any example, but even to come straight unto your Grace, whose body as I understand credibly, and partly see myself, is sore appeared within short time, your mind so troubled, and your heart so heavy, that you hate in a manner all light; you like not the sight of any thing, that might be your comfort, but altogether stricken in a dump, you seek to be solitary; detesting all joy, and delighting in sorrow, you wish with heart (if it were God's will) to make your last end. In which your heaviness, as I desire to be a comforter of your Grace, so I cannot blame your natural sorrow, if that now after declaration of the same, you would moderate all your grief hereafter, and call back your pensiveness to the prescript order of reason.

And first, for the better remedy of every disease, and troubled passions, it is best to know the principal cause and chief occasion of the same. Your Grace had two sons, how noble, how witty, how learned, and how Godly, many thousands better know it than any one is able well to tell it. GOD at his pleasure hath taken them both to his mercy, and placed them with him, which were surely over good to tarry here with us. They both died as your Grace knoweth very young, which by course of Nature and by man's estimation, might have lived much longer. They both were together in one house, lodged in two several Chambers, and almost at one time both sickened, and both departed. They died both Dukes, both well learned, both wise, and both right Godly. They both gave strange tokens of death to come. The Elder sitting at Supper and very merry, said suddenly to that right honest Matron, and Godly Gentlewoman, that most faithful and long assured servant of yours, whose life God grant long to continue: "O Lord, where shall we sup tomorrow at night," whereupon she being troubled, and yet saying comfortably, I trust my Lord, either here, or elsewhere at some of your friends houses: "Nay (quoth he) we shall never Sup together again in this world be you well assured," and with that, seeing the Gentlewoman discomfited, turned it unto mirth, and passed the rest of his supper with much joy, and the same night after twelve of the Clock, being the fourteen of July, sickened, and so was taken the next morning, about seven of the clock, to the mercy of God, in the year of our Lord, a thousand five hundred fifty and one. When the eldest was gone, the younger would not tarry, but told before (having no knowledge thereof by anybody living) of his brother's death, to the great wondering of all that were there, declaring what it was to lose so dear a friend, but comforting himself in that passion, said: "well, my brother is gone, but it maketh no matter for I will go straight after him," and so did within the space of half an hour, as your Grace can best tell which was there present. Now I renew these words to your Grace's knowledge, that you might the more steadfastly consider their time, to be then appointed of GOD, to forsake this evil world, and to live with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of Heaven. But wherefore did GOD take two such away, and at that time? Surely, to tell the principal cause, we may by all likeness affirm that they were taken away from us for our wretched sins, and most vile naughtiness of life, that thereby we being warned might be as ready for God, as they now presently were, and amend our lives in time. Whom God will call, what time we know not. Then as I can see, we have small cause to lament the lack of them, which are in such blessed state, but rather to amend our own living, to forethink us of our offences, and to wish of God to purge our hearts from all filthiness and ungodly dealing, that we may be (as they now be) blessed with God for ever. Notwithstanding, the works of God are unsearchable, without the compass of man's brain, precisely to comprehend the very cause, saving that this persuasion ought surely to be grounded in us, evermore to think that God is offended with sin, and that he punisheth offences, to the third and fourth generation of all them that break his commandments, being just in all his works and doing all things for the best. And therefore, when God plaugueth in such sort, I would wish that our faith might always be stayed, upon the admiration of God's glory throughout all his doings, in whom is none evil, neither yet was there ever any guile found. And I doubt not, but your Grace is thus affected, and unfeignedly confessing your own offences, taketh this scourge to come from God, as a just punishment of sin for the amendment, not only of your own self, but also for the amendment of all other in general. The lamentable voice of the poor (which is the mouth of God) throughout the whole realm declares full well the wickedness of this life, and shows plainly that this evil is more generally felt, than any man is able by word or by writing at full to set forth.

When God therefore, that is Lord, not only of the rich but also of the poor, seeth his ground spoiled from the wholesome profit of many, to the vain pleasure of a few, and the earth made private, to suffice the lust of insatiable covetousness, and that those which be his true members cannot live for the intolerable oppression, the sore enforcing, and the most wicked grazing of those throughout the whole Realm, which otherwise might well live with the only value and some of their lands, and yearly revenues: he striketh in his anger the innocents and tender younglings to plague us with the lack of them, whose innocence and Godliness of life might have been a just example for us, to amend our most evil doings. In which wonderful work of GOD, when he received these two most noble imps, and his children elected to the everlasting Kingdom, I can not but magnify his most glorious name, from time to time, that hath so graciously preserved these two worthy Gentlemen from the danger of further evil, and most vile wretchedness most like right shortly to ensue, except we all repent, and forethink us of our former evil living. And yet I speak not this as though I knew any crime to be more in you, than in any other. But I tell it to the shame of all those universally within this Realm that are guilty of such offences, whose inward consciences condemn their own doings, and their open deeds bear witness against their evil nature. For it is not one house that shall feel the fall of these two Princes, neither hath God taken them for one private person's offences: but for the wickedness of the whole Realm, which is like to feel the smart, except God be merciful unto us.

But now that they are gone, though the flesh be frail, weak, and tender, and must needs smart, being wounded or cut: yet I doubt not but your grace, lacking two such portions of your own flesh, and having them (as a man would say) cut away from your own body, will suffer the smart with a good stomach, and remember that sorrow is but an evil remedy to heal afore. For if your hand were detrenched, or your body maimed with some sudden stroke, when the harm is done, to lament still the fore? Seeing that with weeping it will not be less, and may yet through weeping sorrow is added, and the pain is made double, which before was but single.

A constant Christian should bear all misery, and with patience abide the force of necessity, showing with sufferance the strength of his faith, and especially when the change is from evil to good, from woe to weal. What folly is it to sorrow that for the which they joy that are departed? They have taken now their rest, that lived here in travail: They have forsaken their bodies, wherein they were bound to receive the spirit, whereby they are free. They have chosen for sickness, health: for earth, heaven: for life transitory, life immortal: and for man, GOD: than the which, what can they have more? Or how is it possible they can be better? Undoubtedly if ever they were happy, they are now most happy: if ever they were well, they are now in best case, being delivered from this present evil world, and exempted from Satan, to live for ever with Christ our Saviour.

Then what mean we, that not only lament the lack of other, but also desire to tarry here ourselves, hoping for a short vain, and therewith a painful pleasure, and refusing to enjoy that continual perfect, and heavenly inheritance, the which so soon shall happen unto us, as Nature dissolveth this earthly body. Truth it is, we are more fleshly than spiritual, sooner feeling the ache of our body, than the grief of our soul; more studious with care to be healthful in carcass, than seeking with prayer, to be pure in spirit. And therefore, if our friends be stained with sin, we do not or we will not espy therefore; we count them faultless, when they are most wicked, neither seeking the redress of their evil doing, nor yet once amending the faults of our own living.

But when our friend departeth this world, and then forsaketh us, when sin forsaketh him, we begin to show our fleshly natures, we weep and we wail, and with long sorrow without discretion, declare our lack of God's grace, and all goodness. Whereas we see that as some be born, some do die also, men, women and children, and not one hour certain to us of all our life, yet we never mourn, we never weep, neither marking the death of such as we know, nor regarding the evil life of those whom we love.

But when such depart as were either nighest of our kindred, or else most our friends, we then lament without all comfort, not the sins of their souls, but the change of their bodies, leaving to do that which we should, and doing that only which we should not do at all. Wherein not only we declare much lack of faith, but also we show great lack of wit. For as the other are gone before, either to heaven or else to hell, so shall our friends and kinsfolk follow after. We are all made of one metal, and ordained to die so many as live. Therefore what folly is it in us, or rather what fleshly madness immoderately to wail their death, whom GOD hath ordained to make their end, except we lament the lack of our own living? For even as well we might at their first birth bewail their nativity, considering they must needs die, because they are born to live. And whatsoever hath a beginning, the same hath also an ending, and the end is not at our will, which desire continuance of life, but at his will which gave the beginning of life. Now then seeing GOD hath ordained all to die, according to his appointed will, what mean they that would have theirs to live? Shall God alter his first purpose, for the only satisfying of our foolish pleasure? And where GOD hath minded that the whole world shall decay, shall any man desire that any one house may stand? In my mind, there can be no greater comfort to any one living for the lack of his friend, than to think that this happened to him, which all other either have felt, or else shall feel hereafter, and that God the rather made Death common to all, that the universal Plague and equalness to all might abate the fierceness of death, and comfort us in the cruelty of the same, considering no one man hath an end, but that all shall have the like, and die we must every mother's son of us at one time or other. But you will say: "my children might have lived longer, they died young." Sure it is by man's estimation they might have lived longer, but had it been best for them think you, to have continued still in this wretched world, where Vice beareth rule, and Virtue is subdued, where GOD is neglected, his laws not observed, his word abused, and his Prophets that preach the judgement of God, almost every where condemned? If your children were alive, and by the advice of some wicked person, were brought to a Brothel house, where enticing harlots lived, and so were in danger to commit that soul sin of whoredom, and so led from one wickedness to another, I am assured, your grace would call them back with labour, and would with exhortations induce them to the fear of God, and utter detestation of all sin, as you have full often heretofore done, rather fearing evil to come, than knowing any open fault to be in either of them. Now then seeing God hath done the same for you himself, that you would have done for them if they had lived, that is, in delivering them both from this present evil world, which I count none other than a Brothel house, and a life of all naughtiness, you ought to thank God highly, that he hath taken away your two sons, even in their youth, being innocents both for their living, and of such expectation for their towardness that almost it were not possible for them hereafter to satisfy the hope in their age, which all men presently had conceived of their youth. It is thought and indeed it is not less than a great point of happiness, to die happily.

Now, when could your two noble Gentlemen have died better, than when they were at the best, most Godly in many things, offending in few, beloved of the honest, and hated of none (if ever they were hated) but of such as hate the best. As indeed, noble virtue never lacked cankered envy to follow her. And considering that this life is so wretched, that the best are ever most hated, and the vilest always most esteemed, and your two Sons of the other side, being in that state of honesty, and trained in that path of godliness (as I am able to be a lively witness, none hath been like these many years, or at the least, none better brought up) what think you of God, did he envy them, or else did he providently foresee unto them both, when he took them both from us? Assuredly, whom God loveth best, those he taketh soonest, according to the saying of Solomon: The righteous man (meaning Enoch, and other the chosen of God) is suddenly taken away, to the intent, that wickedness should not alter his understanding, and that hypocrisy should not beguile his soul. For the crafty bewitching of lies, make good things dark: the unsteadfastness also, and wickedness of voluptuous desire, turn aside the understanding of the simple. And though the righteous was soon gone, yet fulfilled he much time, for his soul pleased God, and therefore hasted he to take him away from among the wicked. Yea, the good men of God in all ages have ever had an earnest desire to be dissolved. My soul (quoth David) hath an earnest desire to enter into the courts of the Lord. Yea, like as the Hart desireth the water brooks, so longeth my soul after thee O God. My soul is a thirst for God: yea, even for the living God; when shall I come to appear before the presence of God? Paul and the Apostles wished and longed for the day of the Lord, and thought every day a thousand year, till their souls were parted from their bodies. Then what should we wail them, which are in that place where we all should wish to be, and seek so to live, that we might be ready, when it shall please God of his goodness to call us to his mercy.

Let us be sick for our own sins that live here on earth, and rejoice in their most happy passage, that are gone to heaven. They have not left us, but gone before us to inherit with Christ, their kingdom prepared. And what should this grieve your grace that they are gone before, considering our whole life is nothing else but the right way to death. Should it trouble any one, that his friend is come to his journey's end? Our life is nothing else, but a continual travail, and death obtaineth rest after all our labour. Among men that travel by the high way, he is best at ease (in my mind) that soonest cometh to his journey's end. Therefore, if your grace loved your children (as I am well assured you did) you must rejoice in their rest, and give God hearty thanks, that they are come so soon to their journies of death, and live ever, it were an other matter: but because we must all die, either first or last, and of nothing so sure in this life, as we are all sure to die at length, and nothing more uncertain unto man, than the certain time of every man's latter time, what forceth when we die, either this day or tomorrow, either this year or the next, saving that I think them most happy that die honest, and Death friendly to none so much, as to them whom she taketh honest. At the time of an execution done for grievous offences, what mattereth who, considering they must all die one and other. I say still, happy are they that are honest rid out of this world, and the sooner gone, the sooner blessed. The Thracians lament greatly at the birth of their children, and rejoice much at the burial of their bodies, being well assured that this world is nothing else but misery, and the world to come joy for ever. Now again the child now born partly declareth the state of this life, who beginneth his time with wailing, and first showeth tears, before he can judge the cause of his woe. If we believe the promises of God, if we hope for the general resurrection, and constantly affirm that God is just in all his works, we can not but joyfully say with the just man Job: "The Lord gave them, the Lord hath taken them again, as it pleased God so may it be, and blessed be the name of the Lord for now and ever." God dealeth wrongfully with no man, but extendeth his mercy most plentifully over all mankind. God gave you two children, as the like I have not known, happy are you most gracious Lady that ever you bare them. God lent you them two for a time, and took them two again at his time. You have no wrong done you, that he hath taken them: but you have received a wonderful benefit that ever you had them. He is very unjust that borrowed and will not pay again but at his pleasure. He forgetteth much his duty, that borroweth a Jewel of the King's Majesty, and will not restore it with good will, when it shall please his Grace to call for it. He is unworthy hereafter to borrow, that will rather grudge because he hath it no longer, than once give thanks because he hath had the use of it so long. He is over covetous, that counteth not gainful the time of his borrowing: but judgeth it loss to restore things again. He is unthankful that thinks he hath wrong done, when his pleasure is shortened, and takes the end of his delight to be extreme evil. He loseth the greatest part of his joy in this world, that thinketh there is no pleasure but of things present; that can not comfort himself with pleasure past, and judge them to be most assured, considering the memory of them once had can never die. His joys be over straight, that be comprehended within the compass of his sight, and thinketh nothing comfortable, but that which is ever before his eyes. All pleasure which man hath in this world is very short, and soon goeth its way; the remembrance lasteth ever and is much more assured, than is the preference or lively sight of any thing. And thus your Grace may ever rejoice, that you had two such, which lived so virtuously, and died so Godly, and though their bodies be absent from your sight, yet the remembrance of their virtues shall never decay from your mind. God lendeth life to all, and lendeth at his pleasure for a time. To this man he granteth a long life, to this a short space, to someone a day, to some a year, to some a month. Now, when GOD taketh, what man should be offended, considering he that gave freely may boldly take his own when he will, and do no man wrong. The King's Majesty giveth one £10 another £40 and another £60; shall he be grieved that received but £10 and not rather give thanks, that he received so much? Is that man happier that dieth in the latter end of the month, than he is that died in the beginning of the same month? Doth distance of time and long tarrying from God make men more happy when they come to God? By space of passage we differ much, and one liveth longer than an other, but by death at the last we all are matched, and none the happier that liveth the longer, but rather most happy is he that died the soonest, and departed best in the faith of Christ. Think therefore yourself most happy, that you had two such, and give God hearty thanks that it pleased him so soon to take two such.

Necessity is lawless, and that which is by God appointed, no man can alter. Rejoice we or weep we, die we shall, how soon no man can tell. Yea, we are all our lifetime warned before that death is at hand, and that when we go to bed, we are not assured to rise the next day in the morning, no, not to live one hour longer. And yet to see our folly, we would assign God his time, according to our satiety, and not content ourselves with his doings, according to his appointment. And ever we say when any die young, he might have lived longer, it was pity he died so soon. As though forsooth, he were not better with God, than he can be with man. Therefore, whereas for a time your Grace much bewailed their lack, not only absenting yourself from all company, but also refusing all kind of comfort, almost dead with heaviness, your body being so worn with sorrow, that the long continuance of the same is much like to shorten your days: I will desire your Grace for God's love, to refer your will to God's will, and whereas hitherto nature hath taught you, to weep the lack of your natural children, let reason teach you hereafter to wipe away the tears, and let not fantasy increase that which nature hath commanded moderately to use. To be sorry for the lack of our dearest, we are taught by nature, to be overcome with sorrow, it commeth of our own fond opinion, and great folly it is, with natural sorrow to increase all sorrow, and with a little sickness, to purchase ready death. The sorrows of brute beasts are sharp, and yet they are but short. The Cow lacking her calf leaveth lowing within three or four days at the farthest. Birds of the Air, perceiving their young ones taken from their nest, chitter for a while in trees there about, and straight after they fly abroad and make no more ado. The Doe lacking her Fawn: the Hind her Calf, bray no longer time after their loss, but seeing their lack to be without remedy, they cease their sorrow within short space. Man only among all other ceaseth not to favour his sorrow, and lamenteth not only so much as nature willeth him, but also so much as his own affection moveth him. And yet all folk do not so, but such as are subject to passions , and furthest from fortitude of mind, as women commonly rather than men, rude people rather than Godly folk, the unlearned sooner then the learned, foolish folk sooner than wise men, children rather than young men. Whereupon we may well gather that immoderate sorrow is not natural (for that which is natural is ever alike in all) but through folly maintained, increased by weakness, and for lack of reason made altogether intolerable. Then I doubt not but your Grace will rather end your sorrow by reason, than that sorrow should end you through folly, and whereas by nature you are a weak woman in body, you will show yourself by reason, a strong man in heart, rather ending your grief by Godly advertisements, and by the just consideration of God's wonderful doings, than that time and space should wear away your sorrows, which indeed suffer none continually to abide in any one, but rather rid them of life, or else ease them of grief. The fool, the ungodly, the weak hearted have this remedy; your medicine must be more heavenly, if you do (as you profess) refer all to God's pleasure, and say in your prayer, "Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven." Those whom God loveth, those he chasteneth; and happy is that body, whom God scourgeth for his amendment. The man that dieth in the faith of Christ is blessed, and the chastened servant if he do repent and mend his life shall be blessed. We know not what we do when we bewail the death of our dearest, for in death is altogether all happiness, and before death not one is happy. The miseries in this world declare small felicity to be in the same. Therefore, many men being overwhelmed with much woe and wretched wickedness have wished and prayed to God for an end of this life, and thought this world to be a let to the heavenly perfection, the which bliss all they shall attain hereafter that hope well here, and with a lively faith declare their assurance. Your Grace's two sons in their life were so Godly, that their death was their advantage: for by death they lived, because in life they were dead. They died in faith, not weary of this world, nor wishing for death, as over laden with sin, but patiently taking the cross departed with joy. At whose dying, your grace may learn an example of patience and all thanksgiving, that God of his goodness, hath so graciously taken these your two children to his favourable mercy.

God punished partly to try your constancy, wherein I wish that your grace may now be as well willing to forsake them, as ever you were willing to have them. But such is the infirmity of our flesh, that we hate good comfort in words, when that cause of our comfort in deed (as we take it) is gone. And me thinks I hear you cry notwithstanding all my words: "alack my children are gone." But what though they are gone? God hath called, and nature hath obeyed. Yea, you cry still "my children are dead." Marry therefore they lived, and blessed is their end whose life is so Godly. Woe worth they are dead, they are dead. It is no new thing; they are neither the first that died, not yet the last that shall die. Many went before, and all shall follow after. They lived together, they loved together, and now they made their end both together. "Alas they died that were the fruit of mine own body, leaving me comfortless, unhappy woman that I am." You do well, to call them the fruit of your body, and yet you nothing the more unhappy neither. For is the tree unhappy, from which the Apples fall? Or is the earth accursed, that bringeth forth green grass, which hereafter notwithstanding doth wither. Death taketh no order of years, but when the time is appointed, be it early or late, day or night, away we must. But I pray you, what love hath your Grace? They died, that should have died, yea, they that could live no longer. But you wished them longer life. Yea, But God made you no such promise, and meet it were not, that he should be led by you, but you rather should be led by him. Your children died and that right Godly, what would you have more? All good mothers desire that their children may die God's servants, the which your Grace hath most assuredly obtained. Now again, man's nature altereth, and hardly tarryeth virtue long in one place, without much circumspection, and youth may soon be corrupted. But you will say "These were good and Godly brought up, and therefore, most like to prove Godly hereafter if they had lived still." Well, though such things perhaps had not chanced, yet such things might have chanced, and although they happen not to all, yet do they hap to many. and though they had not chanced to your children, yet we knew not that before; and more wisdom it had been to fear the worst with good advisement, than ever to hope, and look still for the best, without all mistrusting. For such is the nature of man and his corrupt race, that evermore the one followeth sooner than the other. Commodus was a virtuous child, and had good bringing up, and yet he died a most wicked man. Nero lacked no good counsel, and such a Master he had, as never any had the better, and yet what one alive was worse than he? But now death hath assured your Grace, that you may warrant yourself of their godly end, whereas if God had spared them life, things might have chanced otherwise. In wishing longer life, we wish often times longer woe, longer trouble, longer folly in this world, and weigh all things well, you shall perceive we have small joy, to wish longer life. This imagination of longer life, when the life standeth not by the number of years, but by the appointed will of God, maketh our folly so much to appear, and our tears so continually to fall from our cheeks. For if we thought (as we should do indeed) that every day rising may be the end of every man living, and that there is no difference with GOD betwixt one day and an hundred years, we might bear all sorrows a great deal the better. Therefore it were most wisdom for us all, and a great part of perfection, to make every day an even reckoning of our life, and talk so with God every hour that we may be of even board with him, through fullness of faith, and ready to go the next hour following at his commandment, and to take always his sending in good part. The Lord is at hand. We know not when he will come (at midnight, at Cock crow, or at noon days) to take either us, or any of ours. Therefore, the rather that we may be armed, let us follow the examples of other godly men, and lay their doings before your eyes. And among all other, I know none so meet for your Grace's comfort, as the wise and godly behaviour of good King David, who when he was informed that his son was sick, prayed to God heartily for his amendment, wept, fasted, and with much lamentation declared great heaviness. But when word came of his son's departure, he left his mourning, he called for water, and willed meat to be set before him, that he might eat. Whereupon, when his men marvelled why he did so, considering he took it so grievously before, when his child was but sick, and now being dead took no thought at all, he made this answer unto them: "so long as my child lived I fasted, and watered my plants for my young boy, and I said to myself, who can tell but that God perhaps will give me him, and that my child shall live: but now seeing he is dead, to what end should I fast? Can I call him again any more? Nay, I shall rather go unto him, he shall never come again unto me." And with that David comforted his wife Bathsheba, the which example, as I trust your Grace hath read for your comfort, so I hope you will also follow it for your health, and be as strong in patience as ever David was. The history itself shall much delight your grace, being read as it lieth in the book, better than my bare touching of it can do a great deal. The which I doubt not, but your Grace will often read and comfort yourself, as David did his sorrowful wife. Job losing his children and all that he had, forgot not to praise God in his extreme poverty. Tobias lacking his eyesight, in spirit praised God, and with open mouth confessed his holy name, to be magnified throughout the whole earth. Paul the Apostle of God, reproveth them as worthy blame which mourn and lament the loss of their dearest." I would not brethren (quoth he) that you should be ignorant concerning them which be fallen on sleep, that you sorrow not as other do, which have not hope. If we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so they also which sleep by Jesus, will God bring again with him." Then your grace either with leaving sorrow must show yourself faithful, or else with yielding to your woe, declare yourself to be without hope. But I trust your grace being planted in Christ will show with sufferance the fruit of your faith, and comfort yourself with the words of Christ, "I am the resurrection and the life, he that believeth on me, yea, though he were dead, yet should he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." We read of those that had no knowledge of God, and yet they bare in good worth the disease of their children. Anaxagoras hearing tell, that his son was dead: no marvel (quoth he) I know well I begot a mortal body. Pericles chief ruler of Athens, hearing tell that his two sons being of wonderful towardness, within four days were both dead, never greatly changed countenance for the matter, that any one could perceive, nor yet forbear to go abroad, but according to his wonted custom, did his duty in the Counsel house in debating matters of weight, concerning the state of the common people's weal. But because your grace is a woman, I will show you an example of a noble woman, in whom appeared wonderful patience. Cornelia a worthy Lady in Rome, being comforted for the loss of her two children Tiberius, and Caius Gracchus, both valiant Gentlemen, although both not the most honest men, which died not in their beds, but violently were slain in civil battle, their bodies lying naked and unburied, when one among other said: oh unhappy woman, that ever thou shouldest see this day. Nay (quoth she) I will never think my self otherwise than most happy, that ever I brought forth these two "Gracchions." If this noble Lady could think herself happy, being mother to these two valiant gentlemen, and yet both Rebels, and therefore justly slain: how much more may your Grace think yourself most happy, that ever you brought forth two such Brandons, not only by natural birth, but also by most godly education in such sort, that the like two have not been for their towardness universally. Whose death, the general voice of all men declares how much it was lamented. So that, whereas you might ever have feared some dangerous end, now are you assured, that they both made a most godly end, the which thing is the full perfection of a Christian life. I read of one Bibulus, that hearing of his two children to die both in one day, lamented the lack of them both for that one day, and mourned no more. And what could a man do less, than for two children to lament but one day, and yet in my mind he lamented enough, and even so much as was reason for him to do: whose doings if all Christians would follow, in my judgement they should not only fulfill Nature's rule, but also please God highly. Horatius Puluillus being high Priest at Roam, when he was occupied about the dedication of the Temple to the great God Jupiter in the Capitol, holding a post in his hand, and heard as he was uttering the solemn words, that his son was dead even at the same present: he did never pluck his hand from the post, least he should trouble such a solemnity, neither yet turned his countenance from that public Religion, to his private sorrow, least he should seem rather to do the office of a Father, than the duty of an high Minister. Paulus Emilius, after his most noble victory had of King Perse, desired of God that after such a triumph there were any harm like to happen to the Romans, the same might fall upon his own house. Whereupon, when God had taken his two children from him, immediately after he thanked God, for granting him his bound. For in so doing he was a mean, that the people rather lamented Paulus Emilius lack, than that Paulus or any bewailed any misfortune that the Romans had. Examples be innumerable of those which used like moderation in subduing their affections, as Zenophon, Quintus Martius, Julius Caesar, Tiberius Caesar, Emperors both of Roam. But what seek I for misfortunate men (if any such be misfortunate) seeing it is an harder matter and a greater piece of work to find out happy men. Let us look round about, even at home, and we shall find enough subject to this misfortune: for who liveth that hath not lost? Therefore I would wish your grace even now, to come in again with God, and although he be angry, yet show you yourself most obedient to his will, considering he is Lord over Kings, Emperors, and over all that be, both in heaven and in earth, and spareth none whom he listeth to take, and no doubt he will take all at the last. His Dart goeth daily, neither is any Dart cast in vain, which is sent amongst a whole Army, standing thick together. Neither can you justly lament that they lived no longer, for they lived long enough, that have lived well enough. You must measure your children by their virtues, not by their years. For (as the Wiseman saith) a man's wisdom is the grey hairs, and an undefiled life is the old age. Happy is that mother that hath had godly children, and not she that hath had long living children. For, if felicity should stand by length of time, some Tree were more happy than any man, for it liveth longer, and so like wise brute beasts, as the Stag, who liveth (as Pliny doth say) two hundred years and more. If we would but consider what man is, we should have small hope to live, and little cause to put any great assurance in this life. Let us see him what he is: Is his body anything else but a lump of earth, made together in such form as we do see? A frail vessel, a weak carrion subject to misery, cast down with every light disease, a man to day, tomorrow none. A flower that this day is fresh, tomorrow withereth. Good Lord do we not see that even those things which nourish us, do rot and die, as herbs, birds, beasts, water, and all other, without the which we cannot live. And how can we live ever, that are sustained with dead things? Therefore, when any one doth die, why do we not think, that this may chance to every one, which now hath chanced to any one? We be now as those that stand in battle array. Not one man is sure of himself before another, but all are in danger in like manner to death. That your children died before other that were of riper years, we may judge that their ripeness for virtue, and all other gifts of nature were brought even to perfection, whereby Death the sooner approached, for nothing long lasteth that is soon excellent. God gave your grace two most excellent children: God never giveth for any long time, those that be right excellent. Their natures were heavenly, and therefore more meet for God than man. Among fruit we see some apples are soon ripe, and fall from the Tree in the middest of Summer, other be still green and tarry till Winter, and hereupon are commonly called Winter fruit: even so it is with man, some die young some die old, and some die in their middle age. Your sons were even two such already, as some hereafter may be with long continuance of time. They had that in their youth for the gifts of nature, which all men would require of them both scarcely in their age. Therefore being both now ripe, they were most ready for God. There was a child in Roam of a man's quantity, for face, legs, and other parts of the body, whereupon wise men judged he would not be long living. How could your grace think, that when you saw ancient wisdom in the one, and most pregnant wit in the other, marvellous sobriety in the elder, and most laudable gentleness in the younger, them both most studious in learning, most forward in all feats, as well of the body as of the mind, being two such and so excellent, that they were like long to continue with you. God never suffereth such excellent and rare Jewels long to inherit the earth. Whatsoever is nie perfection, the same is most nie falling. Virtue being once absolute, cannot long be seen with these our fleshly eyes, neither can that tarry the latter end with other, that was ripe itself first of all, and before other. Fire goeth out the sooner, the clearer that it burneth: and that light lasteth longest, that is made of most coarse matter. In green wood we may see, that whereas the fuel is not most apt for burning, yet the fire lasteth longer than if it were nourished with like quantity of dry wood.

Even so in the nature of man, the mind being ripe, the body decayeth straight, and life goeth away being once brought to perfection. Neither can there be any greater token of short life, than full ripeness of natural wit: the which is to the body, as the heat of the Sun is to things earthly. Therefore judge right honourable Lady, that even now they both died, when they both were most ready for God, neither think that they died over soon because they lived no longer. They died both God's servants, and therefore they died well and in good time. God hath set their time, and taken them at his time, blessed children as they be, to reign with him in the kingdom of his Father, prepared for them from the beginning. Unto whose will I wish, and I trust your Grace doth wholly refer your will, thanking him as heartily for that he hath taken them, as you ever thanked him for that he ever lent you them. I know the wicked words of some ungodly folk have much disquieted your grace; notwithstanding, GOD being Judge of your natural love towards your children, and all your faithful friends and servants, bearing earnest witness with your Grace of the same: their ungodly talk the more lightly it is to be esteemed, the more ungodly that it is. Nay, your grace may rejoice rather, that whereas you have done well, you hear evil, according to the words of Christ. Blessed are you when men speak all evil things against you. And again, consider GOD is not led by the report of men, to judge his creatures, but persuaded by the true knowledge of every man's conscience to take them for his servants, and furthermore, the harm is theirs which speak so lewdly, and the bliss theirs which bear it so patiently. For look what measure they use to other, with the same they shall be measured again. And as they judge, so shall they be judged. Be your Grace therefore strong in adversity, and pray for them that speak amiss of you, rendering good for evil, and with charitable dealing show yourself long suffering, so shall you heap coals on their heads. The boisterous Sea trieth the good Mariner, and sharp vexation declareth the true Christian. Where battle hath not been before, there was never any victory obtained. You then being thus assailed, show yourself rather stout to withstand, than weak to give over; rather cleaving to good, than yielding to evil. For if God be with you, what forceth who be against you? For when all friends fail, God never faileth them that put their trust in him, and with an unfeigned heart call to him for grace. Thus doing, I assure your Grace God will be pleased, and the godly will much praise your wisdom, though the world full wickedly say their pleasure. I pray God your grace may please the godly, and with your virtuous behaviour in this your widowhood, win their commendation to the glory of God, the rejoicing of your friends, and the comfort of your soul. "Amen."

Thus, the rather to make precepts plain, I have added examples at large, both for counsel giving and for comforting. And most needful it were in such kind of Orations, to be most occupied, considering the use hereof appeareth full oft in all parts of our life, and confusedly is used among all other matters. For in praising a worthy man, we shall have just cause to speak of all his virtues, of things profitable in this life, and of pleasure in general. Likewise in traversing a cause before a Judge, we can not lack the aid of persuasion and good counsel, concerning wealth, health, life, and estimation, the help whereof is partly borrowed of this place. But whereas I have set forth at large the places of confirmation, concerning counsel in diverse causes: it is not thought, that either they should all be used in number as they are, or in order as they stand: but that any one may use them, and order them as he shall think best, according as the time, place, and person shall most of all require.

"Of an Oration Judicial."
The whole burden of weighty matters, and the earnest trial of all controversies, rest only upon Judgement. Therefore, when matters concerning land, goods, or life, or any such thing of like weight are called in question, we must ever have recourse to this kind of Oration, and after just examining of our cause by the places thereof, look for judgement according to the law.

A state therefore generally is the chief ground of a matter, and the principal point whereunto both he that speaketh should refer his whole wit, and they that hear should chiefly mark. A Preacher taketh in hand to show what prayer is, and how needful for man to call upon God: now he should ever remember this his matter, applying his reasons wholly and fully to this end, that the hearers may both know the nature of prayer, and the needfulness of prayer. The which when he hath done, his promise is fulfilled, his time well bestowed, and the hearers well instructed.

"A State of Constitution, what it is in matters in judgement."
In all other causes the state is gathered without contention, and severally handled upon good advisement, as he shall think best that professeth to speak. But in matters criminal, where judgement is required, there are two persons at the least, which must through contrariety stand and rest upon some issue. As for example, a serving man is apprehended by a lawyer for felony, upon suspicion. The lawyer saith to the serving man: thou hast done this robbery. Nay (saith he) I have not done it. Upon this conflict and matching together ariseth this State: "whether this serving man hath done this Robbery, or no?" Upon which point the Lawyer must stand, and seek to prove it to the uttermost of his power.

A state thereof in matters of Judgement is that thing which doth arise upon the first demand and denial made betwixt men, whereof the one part is the accuser, and the other part the person, or persons accused. It is called a State, because we do stand and rest upon some one point, the which must wholly and only be proved of the one side, and denied of the other. I cannot better term it in English, than by the name of an issue, the which not only ariseth upon much debating, and long traverse used, whereupon all matters are said to come to an issue: but also elsewhere an issue is said to be than, and so often, as both parties stand upon one point, the which doth as well happen at the first beginning, before any probations are used, as it doth at the latter ending, after the matter hath at large been discussed.

"The division of States, or issues."
Now that we know what an issue is, it is next most needful to show how many there are in number. The wisest and best learned have agreed upon three only and no less, the which are these following.  The state:

i. Conjectural.
ii. Legal.
iii. Juridical.

And for the more plain understanding of these dark words, these three questions following, expound their meaning altogether.

i. Whether the thing be, or no.
ii. What it is.
iii. What manner of thing it is.

In the first we consider upon the rehearsal of a matter, whether any such thing be, or no. As if one should be accused of murder, good it were to know, whether any murder were committed at all, or no, if it be not perfectly known before: and after to go further, and examine whether such a man that is accused have done the deed, or no.

In the second place we doubt not upon the thing done, but we stand in doubt what to call it. Sometimes a man is accused of felony, and yet he proveth his offence to be but a trespass, whereupon he escapeth the danger of death. An other being accused for killing a man, confesseth his fault to be man's slaughter, and denieth it utterly to be any murder, whereupon he maketh friends to purchase his pardon. Now the lawyers by their learning must judge the doubt of this debate, and tell what "name he deserveth to have," that hath thus offended.

In the third place not only the deed is confessed, but the manner of doing is defended. And if one were accused for killing a man, to confess the deed, and also to stand in it that he might justly so do, because he did it in his own defence: whereupon ariseth this question, whether his doing be right or wrong. And to make these matters more plain, I will add an example for every state severally.

"Of the state Conjectural."

The Assertion:  Thou hast killed this man.
The Answer:  I have not killed him.

The State or Issue:  Whether he hath killed this man, or no.

Thus we see upon the avouching and denial, the matter standeth upon an Issue.

"Of the state Legal."

The Assertion:  Thou hast committed treason in this fact.
The answer:  I deny it to be Treason.

The State or Issue:  Whether his offence done may be called treason, or no.

Here is denied that any such thing is in the deed done, as is by world reported, and said to be.

"Of the state Juridical."

The Assertion:  Thou hast killed this man.
Answer:  I grant it, but I have done it lawfully, because I killed him in mine own defence.

The State or Issue:  Whether a man may kill one in his own defence, or no, and whether this man did so, or no.

"The Oration Conjectural, what it is."
The Oration conjectural is when matters be examined, and tried out by suspicions gathered, and some likelihood of thing appearing. A Soldier is accused for killing a Farmer. The Soldier denyeth it utterly, and saith he did not kill him. Hereupon riseth the question, whether the Soldier killed the Farmer or no, who is well known to be slain. Now to prove this question, we must have such places of confirmation, as hereafter do follow.

"Places of confirmation, to prove things by conjecture."

i. Will to do evil.
ii. Power to do evil.

In the will must be considered the quality of the man, whether he were like to do such a deed, or no, and what should move him to attempt such an enterprise: whether he did the murder upon any displeasure before conceived, or of sudden anger, or else for that he looked by his death to receive some commodity, either land, or office, money, or moneyworth, or any other gainful thing.

Some are known to lack no will to kill a man, because they have been flesh heretofore, passing as little upon the death of a man as a Butcher doth pass for killing of an ox, being heretofore either accused before a Judge of man's slaughter, or else quit by some general Pardon. Now, when the names of such men are known, they make wise men ever hereafter to have them in suspicion.

The Country where the man was born declares sometime his natural inclination, as if he were born or brought up among the Tinsdale and Riddesdale men, he may the sooner be suspected.

Of what trade he is, by what occupation he liveth, whether he be a Gamester, an Alehouse haunter, or a companion among Russians.

Of what wealth he is, and how he came by that which he hath, if he have any.

Of what apparel he weareth, or whether he loveth to go gay, or no.

Of what nature he is, whether he be hasty, heady, or ready to pick quarrels.

What shifts he hath made from time to time.

What moveth him to do such a heinous deed.

"Places of confirmation, to prove whether he had power to do such a deed, or no."
The ground where the man was slain, whether it was in the High way, in a Wood, or between two Hills, or elsewhere nigh unto a hedge or secret place.

The time, whether it was early in the morning, or late at night.

Whether he was there about that time, or no.

Whether he ran away after the deed was done, or had any blood about him, or trembled, or staggered, or was contrary in telling of his tale, and how he kept his countenance.

Hope to keep his deed secret, by reason of the place, time, and secret manner of doing.

Witnesses examined of his being either in this or that place.

By comparing of the strength of the murder, with the other man's weakness, armour with nakedness, and stoutness with simplicity.

His confession.

"An example of an Oration judicial, to prove by conjectures, the knowledge of a notable and most heinous offence, committed by a Soldier."

As Nature hath ever abhorred Murder, and God in all ages most terribly hath plagued bloodshedding, so I trust your wisdoms (most worthy Judges) will speedily seek the execution of this most hateful sin. And where as God revealeth to the sight of men, the knowledge of such offences by diverse likelihoods, and probable conjectures, I doubt not, but you being called of God to hear such causes, will do herein as reason shall require, and as this detestable offence shall move you, upon rehearsal of the matter. The man that is well known to be slain, was a worthy Farmer, a Good housekeeper, a wealthy Husbandman, one that travailed much in this world, meaning uprightly in all his doings, and therefore beloved among all men, and lamented of many when his death was known. This Soldier being desperate in his doings, and living by spoil all his life time, came newly from the Wars, whose hands hath been lately bathed in blood, and now he keepeth this Country (where this Farmer was slain) and hath been here for the space of one whole Month together, and by all likelihoods, he hath slain this honest Farmer. For such men flesht villains, make small account for killing any one, and do it they will without any mercy when they may see their time. Yea, this wretch is bruited for his beastly demeanour, and known of long time to be a strong thief. Neither had he escaped the danger of the law if the King's free Pardon had not prevented the execution. His name declares his naughty nature, and his wicked living hath made him famous. For who is he that hearing of N. (the notable offenders name, might here be rehearsed) doth not think by and by, that he were like to do such a deed? Neither is he only known universally to be naught, but his soil also (where he was born) giveth him to be an evil man, considering he was bred and brought up among a den of Thieves, among the men of Tinsdale and Riddesdale, where pillage is good purchase, and murdering is counted manhood. Occupation hath he none, nor yet any other honest means whereby to maintain himself, and yet he liveth most sumptuously. No greater gamester in a whole Country, no such rioter, a notable whoremonger, a lewd roister among Russians, a notable waster, today full of money, within seven night after not worth a groat. There is no man that seeth him, but will take him for his apparel to be a gentleman. He hath his change of suits, yea, he spareth not to go in his silks and velvet. A great quarreller and fray maker, glad when he may be at defiance with one or other, he made such shifts for money ere now, that I marvel how he hath lived till this day. And now being at a low ebb, and loath to seem base in his estate, thought to adventure upon this Farmer, and either to win the Saddle, or else to lose the Horse. And thus being so far forward, lacking no will to attempt this wicked deed, he sought by all means possible, convenient opportunity to compass his desire. And waiting under a woodside, nigh unto the high way, about six a clock at night, he set upon this Farmer, at what time he was coming homeward. For it appeareth not only by his own confession that he was there about the selfsame time, where this man was slain, but also there be men that saw him ride in great haste, about the selfsame time. And because God would have this murder to be known, look I pray you, what blood he carrieth about him, to bear witness against him of his most wicked deed.

Again, his own confession doth plainly go against him, for he is in so many tales, that he cannot tell what to say. And often his colour changeth, his body shaketh, and his tongue faltereth within his mouth. And such men as he bringeth in to bear witness with him, that he was at such a place at the selfsame hour, when the Farmer was slain, they will not be sworn for the very hour, but they say he was at such a place within two hours after. Now Lord, doth not this matter seem most plain unto all men, especially seeing this deed was done at such a time, and in such a place, that if the Devil had not been his good Lord, the matter had never come to light. And who will not say, that this caitiff had little cause to fear, but rather power enough to do his wicked act, seeing he is so sturdy and so strong, and the other so weak and unwieldy, yea, seeing this villain was armed, and the other man naked. Doubt you not (worthy Judges) seeing such notes of his former life, to declare his inward nature, and perceiving such conjectures lawfully gathered upon just suspicion, but that this wretched soldier hath slain this worthy Farmer. And therefore, I appeal for Justice unto your wisdoms, for the death of this innocent man, whose blood before God asketh just vengeance. I doubt not but you remember the words of Solomon, who saith: It is as great sin to forgive the wicked, as it is evil to condemn the innocent: and as I call unfeignedly for rightful Judgement, so I hope assuredly for just execution.

"The interpretation of a law, otherwise called a State Legal."
In bolting out the true meaning of a Law, we must use to search out the nature of the same, by defining some one word, or comparing one Law with an other, judging upon good trial, what is right, and what is wrong.

"The parts."

i. Definition.
ii. Contrary Laws.
iii. Laws made and the end of the lawmaker.
iv. Ambiguity, or doubtfulness.
v. Probation by things like.
vi. Challenging or refusing.

"Definition what is it."
Then we use to define a matter, when we cannot agree upon the nature of some word, the which we learn to know by asking the question, "what it is?" As for example, where one is apprehended for killing a man, we lay murder to his charge: whereupon the accused person, when he granteth the killing, and yet denieth it to be murder, we must straight after have recourse to the definition, and ask what is murder, by defining whereof, and comparing the nature of the word with his deed done, we shall soon know whether he committed murder, or man's slaughter.

"Contrary Laws."
It often happeneth, that laws seem to have a certain repugnancy, whereof among many riseth much contention, whereas if both the laws were well weighed and considered, according to their circumstances, they would appear nothing contrary in matter, though in words they seem to differ. Christ giveth warning, and chargeth his Disciples in the 10th of Matthew that they preach not the glad tidings of his coming into the world to the Gentiles, but to the Jews only, unto whom he was sent by his father. And yet after his resurrection, we do read in the last of Matthew, that he commanded his disciples to go into all the whole world, and preach the glad tidings of his passion, and ransom, paid for all creatures living. Now, though these two laws seem contrary, yet it is nothing so. For, if the Jews would have received Christ, and acknowledged him their Saviour, undoubtedly, they had been the only Children of God, unto whom the promise and covenant was made from the beginning. But because they refused their Saviour, and crucified the Lord of glory, Christ made the law general, and called all men to life that would repent, promising salvation to all such, as believed and were baptized. So that the particular law being now abrogated, must needs give place to the superior.

"Four lessons to be observed, where contrary Laws are called in question."

i. The inferior law, must give place to the superior.
ii. The law general, must yield to the special.
iii. Man's law, to God's law.
iv. An old law, to a new law.

There be laws uttered by Christ's own mouth, the which if they be taken according as they are spoken, seem to contain great absurdity in them. And therefore, the mind of the law maker must rather be observed, than the bare words taken only as they are spoken. Christ saieth in the fifth of Matthew, "If thy right eye be an offence to thee, pluck him out, and cast him away from thee. If one give thee a blow of thy right cheek, turn to him again thy left cheek. There be some Eunuchs, that have gelded themselves from the kingdom of Heaven. Go and sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor. He that doth not take up his cross and follow me, is not worthy of me." In all which sentences, there is no such meaning, as the bare words uttered seem to yield. Plucking out of the eye, declares an avoiding of all evil occasions. Receiving a blow upon the left cheek, commends unto us modesty, and patience in adversity. Gelding, signifieth a subduing of our affections, and taming the foul lust of pleasure, unto the will of reason. Go and sell all: declares we should be liberal, and glad to part with our goods to the poor and needy. Bearing the cross betokeneth sufferance of all sorrows and miseries in this world. Now, to prove that the will of the law maker, is none other than I have said: I may use the testimonies of other places in the Scripture, and compare them with these sentences, and so judge by just examination, and diligent search the true meaning of the law maker.

"Ambiguity."

Sometimes a doubt is made upon some word or sentence, when it signifieth diverse things, or may diversely be taken, whereupon full oft ariseth much contention. The Lawyers lack no cases to fill this part full of examples. For rather than fail, they will make doubts oftentimes, where no doubt should be at all. "Is his lease long enough (quoth one);" yea sir, it is very long said a poor Husbandman. Then (quoth he) let me alone with it, I will find a hole in it I warrant thee. In all this talk I except always the good Lawyers, and I may well spare them, for they are but a few.

"Probation by things like."

When there is no certain Law by express words uttered for some heinous offender, we may judge the offence worthy death, by rehearsal of some other Law that soundeth much that way, as thus. The Civil Law appointeth that he shall be put in a Sack, and cast in the Sea, that killeth his father; well, then he that killeth his mother, should by all reason in like sort be ordered.

It is lawful to have a Magistrate; therefore it is lawful to plead matters before an officer. And thus, though the last cannot be proved by express words, yet the same is found lawful by rehearsal of the first.

"Challenging or refusing."

We use this order, when we remove our suits from one Court to an other, as if a man should appeal from the Common place to the Chancery. Or if one should be called by a wrong name, not to answer unto it. Or if one refuse to answer in the Spiritual Court and appeal to the Lord Chancellor.

"The Oration of right or wrong, called otherwise the state Juridical."
After a deed is well known to be done by some one person, we go to the next and search whether it be right or wrong. And that is, when the manner of doing is examined, and the matter tried through reasoning, and much debating, whether it be wrongfully done or otherwise.

"The Division."
This state of right or wrong is two ways divided, whereof the one is when the matter by its own nature is defended to be right, without any further seeking, called of the Rhetoricians, the state absolute.

The other (using little force or strength to maintain the matter) is, when outward help is sought, and by ways used to purchase favour, called otherwise the "state assumptive."

"Places of Confirmation for the first kind, are vii."

i. Nature itself.
ii. God's Law, and man's Law.
iii. Custom.
iv. Equity.
v. True dealing.
vi. Ancient examples.
vii. Covenants and deeds authentic.

Tully in his most worthy Oration made in behalf of Milo, declares that Milo slew Claudius most lawfully, whom Claudius sought to have slain most wickedly. For (quoth Tully) if nature have grafted this in man, if Law have confirmed it, if necessity have taught it, if custom have kept it, if equity have maintained it, if true dealing hath allowed it, if all commonweals have used it, if deeds ancient have sealed this up, that every creature living should sense itself against outward violence: no man can think that Milo hath done wrong, in killing of Claudius, except you think, that when men meet with thieves, either they must be slain of them, or else condemned of you.

"Places of confirmation for the second kind, are iv."

Granting of the fault committed.
Blaming evil company for it.
Comparing the fault, and declaring that either they must have done that, or else have done worse.
Shifting it from us, and showing that we did it upon commandment.
Confessing of the fault is when the accused person granteth his crime, and craveth pardon thereupon, leaving to ask Justice, and leaning wholly unto mercy.

"Confession of the fault used two manner of ways."

The first is, when one accuseth himself, that he did it not willingly, but unawares, and by chance.

The second is, when he asketh pardon for the fault done, considering his service to the Commonweal, and his worthy deeds heretofore done, promising amendment of his former evil deed, the which words would not be used before a Judge, but before a King, or General of an Army. The King may forgive, as author of the Law, and having power in his hand, may do as he shall think best.

Blaming other for the fault done is when we say that the accused person would never have done such a deed, if other against whom also this accusation is intended had not been evil men, and given just cause of such a wicked deed.

Comparing the fault is when we say, that by slaying an evil man, we have done a good deed, cutting away the corrupt and rotten member, for preservation of the whole body. Or thus: some set a whole town on fire, because their enemies should have none advantage by it. The Saguntines, being tributary to the Romans, slew their own children, burnt their goods, and fired their bodies, because they would not be subject to that cruel Hannibal, and lose their allegiance due to the Romans.

Shifting it from us is when we say that if other had not set us on, we would never have attempted such an enterprise. As often times the Soldier saieth, his Captain's bidding was his enforcement. The servant thinketh his master's commandment, to be a sufficient defence for his discharge.