The Casket of Iewels: Contaynynge a playne description of Morall Philo­phie, diligently and after a very easie Methode declared by the well learned and famous Author Cor­nelius Valerius: Lately turned out of Latin into Eng­lishe, by I. C.

Inuidia factum premit.

¶ Imprinted at London, by VVilliam Hovv, for Ri­charde Johnes. 1571.

G C
[...]RTVS MEA VITA MEA.’

To the Right wor­shipfull sir Ceruis Clyfton Knight, his daily Oratour I. C. vvissheth longe health with encrease of much Worship and Vettu.

IF we shal consi­der which thing I do oftentimes with my selfe, (right worship­full Syr) of what dexteritie and sharpenesse of witte, the aunci­ent Sages, and perelesse Philo­phers haue been, with what indu­strie and paynefull toyle they haue sweated in boltynge out the secret, and perplexed misteries [Page] of Nature, wee haue doubtlesse an vnspeakeable occasion to re­ioyce, because through such theyr most excellent workinges we are allured to the knowledge of sun­dry sciences: and yet we must, or at least we should more bewayle our selues, that contemplatynge such worthy documentes and vn­fallible principles cōducing to the manifolde kindes of Godlynesse and Vertu, we doo little or no­thing prouide for our wealth and commoditie, but rather vnto our greate shame and reproche con­fesse our selues wretched bond­men, & miserable captiues to the scepter and detestable seruitude of Ignorance. For amonge all [Page] such benefites which we so boun­tifully at their hands haue receiu­ued, no one semeth so excellēt, so precious, and so highli to be prai­sed, and yet of vs lesse folowed and embraced, as is Morall phi­losophy, a matter comprehending the perfect trade how to liue a­monge men soberly and honestly, and so directly stakinge out the vndeceiueable boundes to the ca­stell of Vertue, that none can be more apparant only Apo­stolicall doctrine excepted. Of which when I pondered with my self how greatly the members of the Weale Publike euen at these our daies haue neede of, though the cancred infirmitie of a co­wardly [Page] minde, had welnie sup­pressed my conceiued purpose, yet aduauncinge against the ensigne of dastardly courage, & callīg to my minde the bening clemēcy that so brightly casteth hir beames from your countenance, and the prone, ready and willyng mynde, zeale and feruent desier towardes all Godly and vertuous learning, which all men consider, and I my selfe assuredly vnderstande, I concluded forthwith to finish this my Translation, that vnder the safeward of your Worships pro­tection it may creepe alonge to the behoofe of my Countrey, and the better be fensed and fortified against the encountring, & wil­full [Page] reprehention of shamelesse tongues.

Doubtlesse (right worshipfull sir) among so many your renow­ned deedes of Godlynesse, this may not be the least, if you shall accept this my industrie and tra­uell (such as it is) as a token of my hartie goodwill, very desirous hereby to shew my selfe zealous of a friend of so worthy a voca­tion. And whereas larger mat­ters cannot be compassed, these simple (such is my confidence) shal not be repelled & reiected: which if I shal perceiue to take a pros­perous successe, henceforth more serious indeuour shalbe bestowed to atchiue greater if habilitie, [Page] thereunto be correspondent.

For I recken all this my labour very feble, and sclenderly, or no­thinge able to preuaile, without your worship were the Fortresse hereof, whiche with all my good will and indeuour I dutifully ex­hibit, not as to learn you any pre­cept in which already you are not exactly seene, but by your famous reputation, such is my desier, to procure it the better credit with others. For when our English youth shall contemplate Morall Disciplyne to be ratified by so prudent and graue a Gentelman voyde of all troublesome moodes of mynde, polished with such ex­cellent vnderstandynge, adorned [Page] with precious vertues, & practi­sed profoundly in the experience of politik affaires annexed with Marciall Exploytes, no doubte they and all others will more lo­uingly regarde the cause, as it is behoueable for them to doo, and more speedely will they settle thē selues to pursue those fruictfull instructions chiefly to be desired in a Commonwealth orderly, & discretly to be stablished. For herein is comprised a meane to procure rest and peasiblenesse in priuate life, to purchase estima­cion and dignitie in bearynge of office, in euery degree to dismoūt vnrulinesse, & contēcious sturres to surprise al moodinesse of mind [Page] to extirpat incestuous concupis­cence, and finally to reenforce, strengthen & support an impreg­nable rule of vsage, and laudable behauiour. This boke is euidently the Glasse of intelligence: the Theatre of comely conuersacion: The Stage of honest demenour: the Treasure house of Ciuilitie: the Conduite to true Plea­sure, and eternall Felicitie. It is the Casket of Ievvels: the Maystresse of Prudence: the Bulvvarke of equitie: the Palace of Fortitude: the Nurse of Sober­nesse: the Parent of Comelinesse.

Which my attempt (howsoeuer done) I haue presumed vpon hope of full remission for my boldnesse to dedecate the same vnto your worship, although far vnworthy and ouer base to be receiued, the which trustinge you will none o­therwise [Page] accept than did Ar­toexerxes the Apple of the poore man, I close vp my matter, humbly besechinge Almightie God perfectly to guide you in the steps of his most holy wil, merci­fully to graffe in you the light of true godlinesse, ardently to cause that Vertuous Lady of yours to burne in the pefect workes of Christianity, abundantly to re­plenish you both with much worl­des worship, wealth and prosp [...] ­ritie, and after this trans [...]orie life to inaugure you both with the Blisfull ioyes of celestiall feli­citie. Amen.

Your dayly Oratour I. C.

The Preface of the Translatour to the Reader.

TErence the worthy wri­ter of Comedies, when as he had once ended his works and determined vvith him selfe to publish the same, doubtlesse he feared nothinge more than the maleuolous reprehencion of carping tounges. For he knevv assuredly, that at those daies (as euermore hetherto it hath been) the common people as they polluted their bodies vvith voluptuous and ill fa­uoured manners, so did they defile and contami­nate their mindes vvith the furious dartes of ZOY­LVS Spirit. And to say the truth, he vvrought him selfe this suspicion not vvithout a cause: for as soone as he had disclosed the secrettes of his studie vvhich not vvithout great toile and paineful labour hee had vvrapped together, there vvanted not some vvho weare redie bente and prepared to be wreake the spitefull malice of their cancred hartes, and vvithout iust cause of controlment to manifest the priuie stinges of their venemous conscience. This (gentle Reader) when I considered with my felfe, I must needes confesse that I was greatlie dismaide, and meruailouslie terrified from mine enterprise, and alreadie, as it were through sundrie conclusi­ons to my selfe, allured and perswaded rather to retire, than hardilie and stoutlie to aduenture my [Page] iourney. Yet contrariwise I ponderinge in my minde the contrarietie of humane Nature, and the maruailous diuersitie of disposicion wherwith it is embrewed, and then againe vnderstanding that all are not enemies vnto the Crowne of Vertue, ne Foes to the Scepter of Godlinesse, I thought it more expedient by my simple labour and industry to gratifie and please the good, than by suppressing my attempt cowardlie to flee the busie braines of the naughtie and reprobate. Certes the wicked are to be abandoned with their wickednesse, but the good are to be loued and cherished for their god­linesse. The studious sercher of wisdom will more seriouslie pursue the holsom and necessarie instruc­tions for life, then the exquisite situation of words. and will rather couet fruitfull lessons, and good ad­monicions, than sugred sentences, oratorial trickes, and outlandish termes. But the vnstedfast and vn­stable minde of the vicious person (I will speake of a thinge manifestlie and commonlie knowne) had leiffer to espy some friuolous doubte to cauell and Question vpon, than to folow any seemelie aduer­tisment, perfectlie staking out the waie to laudable Vertue. Such a Reader as hath his good wil fully addicted to pastaunces and vnhappie delites had ra­ther I dare say bothe to see and reade the brutish bookes of VENVS plaies, than to spend his time and busie his braine in such a Treatise which may instruct and teache him to liue Prudentlie, iustlie, valiauntlie, and soberlie: with the honest Reader I trust I shall purchase fauoure and iust commenda­tion, and to the other this little worke shalbe suf­ficient [Page] to teache him for to vanquish and bridle his vnfauorie delite in bourding, to mittigate his furi­ous braide of reprehencion, to asswage the combe of his insolente Arrogancie, to appease the rage of his skornefull spirite, and finallie to make him not onlie a fitte Disciple or hearer, but also a profitable follower of Morall Philosophie. Verelie all estates, all degrees, all ages, haue presently laide be­fore their Eies to looke on the Glasse of all Vertue: for as in a Glasse they may easelie contemplate what is decent, or els vnseemely in their parsonage, and apparell, so by fastening their mindes and vn­derstandinges herevpon they may with no lesse fa­cilitee ma [...]ke consider, and beare away what is to be folowed in their whole course of life, or vvhat is to be eschewed, vvhat to be retained, as good and profitable, or vvhat to be reiected as vncōmodious and hurtefull. Such vvhether they be noble or base, riche or poore, old or yong, as haue al their delices, and corporall delites as fleshfondinges, and paum­peringes of the vitall porcion subiecte to the re­novvned & victorious bondage of REASON, such I say haue here to gather aduisements and instruc­tions profitable and expediente to ratifie and con­firme their liues: and others vvho like EPICV­RTENS are vanquished vvith gorgious fare and o­uervvhelmed, buried, and drovvned, in the bottom­lesse Gulffes of innumerable vanities, haue hereby to reform their insestuous conuersacions, to amend their notorious faultes, to banish their toublesome woodes of minde, to expell and put away their ac­customed doinges, and by adorninge them selues [Page] with the flourishinge Braunches of Vertue by litle and litle to creepe to the Fountaine of that greatest Soueraintie For assure thy selfe (gentle Reader) that no man liuing can attaine vnto the vtterest good (as ARISTOTLE the Prince of al Philosophers doth say) vnlesse he shall first subdue his apetites, bridell his desires, Imprison his lusts, and confound his mad and bestiall affections, through which nature is en­feebled, and he withdrawen from the fellowship of goodnesse and honestie. And that I may not bo­rowe thy pacience any lenger, I doo instantly re­quest, that if any part of this my Transacion shall offend thine eares, thou wilt courtously deale with me, rather considering the proper worthinesse and sence of the Aucthor whiche is moste excellence, then my basenesse and tennitie of Stile, for the de­fault of Eloquence.

¶ Fare well.

¶ Holsome Counsell for a Christian man.

Geue almes to the poore dayly.
Endure affliction quietly.
Remember thy end stedfastly.
Vtter Gods word manfully.
In all thinges worke rightfully.
Serue God and thy Prince duely.
Call for grace howerly.
Loue thy neighbours freendly.
Yeld to the truth meekely.
Fauour learning earnestly.
Trust in Christs mercy faithfully.
Obtaine thou friendship perfectly.
No man oppresse Wrongfully.

Cornelius Valerius his Morall Description lately Englisshed.

Of the ende and Partes of Morall Science. Cap. i.

EThica Philoso­phia, which in Latin is called De Moribus & Moralis, the phi­losophie of ma­niers & Morall, is a meane to liue well: either a Science to iudge vprightly of conditi­ons, and of the Actions and duties of common lyfe. The Philosophers onely imitatyng the light of Nature & Rea­son as their Guide, haue deliuered it [Page] vnto vs diligētly adorned: whose whole industrie especially either is conuer­saunt in the boultynge out, and vnfoul­ding the perplexitie of Nature, or els in the Doctrine of life and condicions.

[...]. 1. [...]d.Albeit perdy, as CICERO writeth, in­continent after a three parted kinde of Philosophie was receyued of PLATO: the one of lyfe and Facions, the other of Naturall and diffuse things: the third of reasonyng and adiudgyng both what is true, and what is false, what is honest in talke, or euill, what is consonant, what disagreable: yet they haue pur­sued no member of Philosophy more exactly ( SOCRATES being the Author and Counsellour) than that, than which nothyng was more behoueable to passe humaine life delectably, which traineth and fashioneth the properties of men, and righteth all the operacions of lyfe by the Squire of Vertue: that the way to liue honestly may be embraced: that the opinions of men might be vprightly infourmed of commodious and hurtfull things, honest & filthy, of matters to be desired & auoided, of thynges profitable [Page] and vnprofitable: who oftentymes ge­uyng Sentence of these peruersly, do preise good and euill not accordynge to their valuacion. An vpright iudgement of diuine & humain matters is the very gorgious reward of God For God both reising vp the brightnesse of our minde, & also the power of vnderstandinge dar­kened through the infectiue sicknesse of the body, doth polish it with a new light eake redresseth our wil through his cle­mencie earst piteously depraued. Wee being armed with these proppes may assaie to atchiue vnto the knowledge & intelligence of trouthe. There be some who deeme that the best proporcion of liuing ought rather to be gathered out of sacred Scriptures, VV [...] Phil [...] phy i [...] be m [...] tated chris [...] men [...] than out of pro­phane Philosophie: which wee like wise would suppose to be more sure and cer­taine, if those thinges were compre­hended in those celestiall learninges vt­tred by the mouth of the Omnipotent, which are descriued of Ethnical writers touching the Ciuill associacion of men among them selues, & the mainteining of the weale publike, without whiche, [Page] they who obey the precepts of God, and the holy men are not of power to leade a peasible life. Wherfore because y e Phi­losophers ignorant verily of Christian Religion, yet very studious of humain wisdom, imitating that law of Nature engrauen from aboue in all mennes mindes, haue geuen lawes profitable to leade the life vprightly, and right ex­cellent documents concerning maners with a constant and perpetual sentence of iust and wrongfull doinges, and haue left vs graue sayings by which we may be encouraged to Vertue, and terrified from vices, and may vnderstande that we ought to liue well and honestly selfe Nature being our leader, eake discerne the rewardes whiche are prepared of God for the good, and punishmentes for the reprobate, and that conscience bea­ring witnesse, by which euery wight is either accused, or excused: why should we be afraide to vse these, especially which nothing impugne Christian Re­ligion, and profite not a little? we ther­fore borowing of the very best Philoso­phers the conuenientest rules to liue [Page] ordinately oughte to measure them ac­cordinge to the precepte of holy Scrip­tures. The summe of all Philosophie Morall consisteth in these three points: that the end of man and felicity may be vnderstanded, that troublesome moodes may be asswaged, that vertues and con­trarious to these may be diligently con­sidered, that them we may embrace, & eschew these, and may gouerne our life with vertue, godly, and iustlie: lesse we should conceiue a peruerse opinion of Catholike religion, or lesse we would charge another with that, which wee would not our selues. For that is the chiefest regarde of well minded Philo­sophers, that the will of men may be shaped to vertue, and to all humanity, & amiable concord, that the life may be guided both priuatly and openly, and be obedient vnto the determinacion of na­ture. This discipline of life trinely to be instituted although it be one, and the same notwithstanding being seuered in three partes, after a diuers considera­tion, it is distributed into Monasticen, into Oeconomicen, and into Politicen: that is to [Page] wit into solitarie, Domesticall and Ci­uill: of which the first apperteineth to fashion the conditions of singuler men: the other to gouerne the Family well: The third rightly to rule the common Wealth. The first furnisheth euery mans minde, and allureth it to vertue, and is the seedplot of an householde, as the multitude of households be the fun­dacion of a Citie. And first and formost verely that shalbe made apparāt which bewtifieth the guises and minde of eche person, with y e lessons of honest liuinge. For first of all others he is to be lear­ned who may be able to trade either the family, or els the Citie well. After­wardes compendiously the householde prouidence, eke the politike shal be tou­ched, which perhaps it shalbe lawfull to comprehend vnder that place of the so­litarie member of philosophy, by which Prudencie is handled, except any one had rather to wrest it vnto common Iustice, that there may be an equitie domesticall and ciuill. Because then the mattier in which all this Philosophy of Maners is busied, are humaine actions, [Page] which she teacheth to order discretli (for al they are adiected to some final scope) I thinke it conuenient wee say nothing in this place, before that briefly wee de­bate of the ende and greatest good, vnto whiche the operations are directed.

Which beyng vnderstanded, immedi­atly wée shall dispute somewhat more abundantly of Actions, by which an en­traunce may be made vnto that soue­raintie.

Of the end of man, and the Soueraine good. Cap. ij.

ONely men by reason they are ende­wed with knowledge do not onely somwhat for som end, but also purpose som vtmost marke of all theyr labours, & hit most commodious for them selues: But all other liuing creatures are ca­ried to that onely which is present tho­rough the blind sweigh of Nature. Be­cause euery end verily, if it be to be wi­shed for of a man, is good the latter end shalbe the soueraine good, and to be de­sired [Page] of it selfe, for whose sake all things are constituted, and through adeption of whiche men are made Fortunate and blessed: Yet what maner of thing that is, whiche may seeme to be accompted last and one alone, eke the greatest good it is doubted of philosophers, and a long time inquired for in vayne, and after sundrye facions called in Question: of which som haue placed felicity in plea­sure, others in knowledge, som in honor others in other matters. Plato more deuine then the rest collocated the same in vsing the contemplacion of the chie­fest goodnesse, either of the good Idaea or els of God and heauenly wisdom: Vnto whom by how much any man may be made more like, by so much he thought him more happy, and the rather a co­partner of be atitude: But this felicity not to chaunce in this life, because no man may be said happy before his dying day. Aristotle in his first booke Ad Ni­comachum, esteemed felicitie to be si­tuated in a perfect action answerable to perfect vertue, that is to wit whiche may be framed by the rule of wisdome: [Page] because she did appeare to transporte very commendable and suffycient per­fection to man: Whereas also the Pe­ripatetikes do commonstrate a blessed lyfe to be concluded by vertue: Which yet if it be garnyshed with the gooddes of body and Fortune, should be moste blessed: for he graunted blessednesse to consist of a tryple sort of goods: but in his tenth Booke he dyd suppose it to be pytched in delectation contemplatiue: that although that actiue felicyty may be referred to thys contemplatiue, yet in her proper kinde she may be the fi­nall end. As who say truly, that whiche is one soueraine good, may be double.

Plato more better, and more agreable vnto christian religion, & without doubt more truly did define it thus, that accor­dinge to his opinion also a soueraintie should be appoynted for vs very cōmo­diously, The [...] rayn [...] for m [...] God [...] thro [...] him [...] lastin [...] an eternal pleasure of seynge & hauing y e fruition of God, to be wyshed for of it self: the which who that obtay­ [...]eth is rightly named blessed: who now wanteth nothyng vnto perfect felicity, & so deliteth therin, that he may request [Page] no whit more, sith he is dispatched from all calamities, and enriched with euer­lastyng life: which no man can compasse but through the benefit and gift of god, lesse any one should glory in his owne opinion. For that is not of him that is willyng, nor yet purueying, but of God hauyng compassyon, and the peculiar dowry of the Holy Ghoste graunted through Christ our Lorde: vnto whom no man can attaine, vnlesse the heauen­ly father shall draw him, the Author of all felicity, in whome, knowne by the Sonne, the confidence of immortality is reposed for vs: whiche are borne for no other intent, then that we should ac­knowledge him to be the builder, that we should attribute all glory vnto him, that wee shoulde loue him with all our mynde, and shoulde worship him as he hath geuen in commaundement. Be­cause wee must passe vnto this marke by the operacions of vertue, it foloweth that first of all wee reason of these. But where as the Actions are voluntary, and good wyll it selfe is ingrassed in the mynde of man, which beyng subiect to [Page] God only hath a free originall of doyng, but is so disturbed with diuers mocions that humane operacions most comonly do roue from the streight pathe of ver­tue: Wee wil in few wordes comprise the beginnyng of affections, and of vi­ces, and vertues. The soule of man loc­ked in a mortal corps is as it were sun­dred in two partes, of which one is hea­uenly, like a certayne beame glistering with diuine excellency, as the minde.

The other is yoked to the body, as ap­ [...]etite, or desier, and anger. The higher [...]s a receauer of Reason: The lower is [...]gnorant: it is hir parte to rule, and it [...]elonges vnto this to obey. But this oftentimes as an Horse waryng fierse, not regarding the will of the Carter, is whirled w t a violent brayde vnto those thinges which him liketh, whether they be honest or filthy, yeldyng a deafe eare to reason, and not hearyng the mynde and intelligence, whiche is a copartner of those knowledges, whiche by nature are planted in vs, or rather ingendred of God: and at all times incourageth vnto honest mattiers, whether they be [Page] pleasant, or lamentable. For there is a triple good: Honest, profitable, and pleasaunt. Honest is, which agreeth with the streight sentence of Reason: Profitable is, which succoureth nature and lyfe. Pleasaunt is, which deliteth naturall appetite, as the drynke the thyrsty. And out of these Fountaynes procede all actions. It is the duety of the minde and Intelligence to deter­myne: but to the other parte it belon­geth to execute the commaundement of the minde, and to labour. The minde hath two principall Intelligences en­talied of nature: the one of debatinge truth and falshoode, the other of discer­ning good and euill. For al men through a certaine secret sence do discerne what thinges are iust, and wrongfull (so that this light of nature be not pesterd) for nature hath geuē to vs as it were litle sparkes and seedes, and a certayne pro­cliuitie of minde, and facultie to labour. This affection doth stirre: Operacion succeedeth the affection, and by often o­peracions there is gotten a perfectnes, either of vertue, if it be trayned vnto a [Page] [...]ood end, or els of vice, if vnto an euill. [...]nd this is the grounde of all humaine [...]ctions.

Of Affections. Cap. iij.

SIth perdie euery fourme of vertues and vices doth spring as it were out [...]f these Fountaines, hability, affection, operation, and perfection: we wil com­pendiously manifest these: And certes those few things which are said concer­ning faculty shall suffice. And let that difference be obserued betwixt the na­tiue readines of the minde, & the braide or affection of this procliuity. As choler doth moue the nature of an ireful man, so dooth the coueting of glory force the couetous of honour. Henceforth then we haue to breake our minde of affecti­ons. Affection, is a commocion of the minde, disquieting the tranquility ther­of, which in Greeke is called [...] and of Cicero Perturbatio, a Perturba­tion, and it is defined, a troublesom and a violēt moode of the soule, bended from [Page] reason, an enemye to the minde, and quiet life. The Stoikes when as they saw a man to be turmoyled hither and thither with many and wicked desires, and falsly supposed the very nature of man to be vncorrupted, and not deflou­re, dthey gainsaid affections to be natu­rall, but graunted them to be only opi­nions eyther of good or yll, and in theyr kinde euery one to be vicious, and to be rooted out of the nature of menne, from which they would a wise man to be fre: yet they are easily conuicted of errour. For first of al that they are Natiue and ingendred, by y t it is lightly confirmed, because motions and certayne inclina­tions are ingraffed in liuyng creatures by nature, as the Zeale of parentes to­wardes theyr Children. And who seeth not som men to be more enclined to an­ger or loue, to ioyfulnesse or heauinesse than other som. Farthermore that all are not faultye thereby it is apparant inough, by reason the very law of God geueth vs in charge to beare loue to­warde him, towarde all men, towardes our wife, children, and parentes: And [Page] enioyneth vs mercy, hope, confidence, ioye, and some other affections very profitable and expedient to encourage the minde. For what is more commo­dious for the life of man than the hope of glory, and rewardes, and the feare of rebuke and punishments. And so doubtles affctions may be handsomly diuided that som may be called good by nature, which agre with reason or els with the prescript of nature, as good will, com­passion. Some euill, which do disagrée, as Hatred, Enuy, Pride, Dispere. Som betwixt bothe, as anger, hope, boldnes, feare, desire, loue, merinesse, sorow: which that they may not swarue from [...]ertue, they are to be ruled by the bri­ [...]ell of reason, and to be Iudged by me­diocrity. But neither is that to be com­mended, which som construed, that af­fections are naturall, not also volunta­ry. For whereas our will onely subiect to God may apppeare to haue a free O­riginall to worke, it is to be thought, the very redinesse perdie vnto these or them, and likewise the first motion to be naturall; but theyr vexacions to be [Page] voluntary, and able to be chastised by th'authority of reason, lesse they should run headling, and be plucked with vio­lence, eake inforce a man immediatly welny vnwillyng vnto naughtinesse. Albeit truly at that time the will coue­ting doth range at liberty, and by some meanes may reteine it if so she woulde inuocate God the helper. For put case it be feeble, yet there is some libertie whiche when shame & feare are set out to the show may be of power to bridle the affections. And that they can be cor­rected by discipline, those wordes deli­uered of God do manifestlie denounce. Sub te erit appetitus tuus, & tu Dominaberis illi: Vnder thee shalbe thine apetite, & thou shalt beare rule ouer it. Wheras also a man consisteth of two partes, a Soule and a bodie, and there is a double force of the soule, one a copartner of reason, the other void: she is stedfast and quiet, this wandring, and tormented with af­fections, whiche moste commonly doth disquiet her: where by it insueth that a man, if he doth pursue the aduise of rea­son and intelligence he may want per­turbacion: [Page] But if he had rather to be­come Subiecte vnto the concupiscence of the body, he may be diuerslie prouo­ked. The Fountaine then of affections is that part of the Soule voide of rea­son: and that is double [...] war­yng angry, and [...]very desi­rous of a thinge. The which if refusinge the Empire and Yoke of the minde and reason, it be caried with his proper ve­hemencie, it is needefull that forthwith one or other of the perturbations bee incensed, and plucked throughe the opi­nion or similytude of good or yll, some­times bither and somtimes thither, eke nowe and then be broughte all oute of frame with pleasure or luste, and one while with timidity or hatred. For vn­to these twoo sortes it appeareth that any one of the affections may be refer­red, because all mocions proceede from a suspicion of good or euill, whether it be present, or absent. Out of the Iudge­ment of good floweth pleasure, and out of the conceit of euill commeth sorow. Vnto pleasure are referred, loue, de­sire, gladnesse, whiche succoure nature, [Page] and among these especiallie ioy: Vnto sorow appertaine, anger, hatred, feare, sadnesse, which discommoditie Nature most painfully. The Harbourough for­southe of them all is featelie disposed in the harte, to whom there is a greate familyarity with will, whiche either may couet, or els eschew, if any thing be obiected, whiche may seem either to pleasure, or domage nature.

Of Loue. Cap. iiij.

LOue is an inclination of will, prone to that which is thought good. For when as any thinge is profered, which either is good in deede, or els de­liteth with a certain likelyhood of good, through that opinion, the greedy faculti of the Soule is vehemently inticed to enioy and possesse the same. And of the goods, which are sought for of men, we tolde that there were three kindes: Ho­nest, Profitable and Pleasant, whiche [Page] cōmonly are coupled together, because one thyng both may be honest, and pro­fitable, and pleasant: yet not by and by that which is either profitable, or plea­sant, is honest: whereas these now and than may appere to contende with ho­nestie. But for all this nothinge is in deed either profitable, or pleasāt, which same is not honest. Certes what is honest that is onely required for the proper behoofe, no consideration had neither of commoditie, nor of delecta­tion. How greate the power of loue is, the verses of Poets do beare witnesse, and wee deeme that there be very few whiche can quite them selues cleare of all loue. Plato constituted a threefolde loue, the first which embraceth and che­risheth only Vertue, but this is exemp­ted from the number of affections, he appeareth rather to be reckned among vertues, because he vseth the iudgemēt of vpright Reason: The other filthie which cloueth to the pleasure of bodie: The thyrde whiche mindeth the Soule and Body. Nothyng is more noble than the first, nothynge more foule than the [Page] other: The thyrd truly is a companion of bothe, but yet he rometh abrode no lesse than the other: By reason he reue­renceth the personage of the body, and ardenly esteemeth it. Vnlesse wee re­pine this loue resortyng amorously, and strokyng the minde with sugred words and except this loue sike soule brought vnto another bayte: Feates of Phisick should be practised in vayne, when as now the loue shall growe in vse, eake shal haue taken deeper rootes.

Of Desire and Hope. Cap. v.

DEsire is a luste to enioye that good, whiche as yet is not presente: If so that be in place, it is loued, but if it bee out of sight, it is coueited. Out of this Fountain (if the sentence of reason be neglected, and the desire bee immode­rate, and excéede the boundes and Li­mits of Nature who is apaid with few thinges) many vices do arise: as Nig­gardlines, Ambicion, Sensualitie, Riot & such other. Hope is defined of Cicero, [Page] an expectation of good, to whom dispaire is contrarye, a supposed difficultye and mistrust of a good thinge to be atchiued, the which shalbe Recapitulated heare­after among the fourmes of sadnesse.

It is the guise of a wise man, to hope for those thinges, whiche he maye attaine, neither rashly to dispaire, whither he may atchiue through trauaile. And this hope verely by which we wish for good, either trewe or shadowed, differeth from that whiche is tearmed Theologi­call, and it is a vertue, eke is depainted to be a waytinge for eternall felicitie: Vnto whom in like case the repugnant vice is, Desperatio, despeire.

Of Gladnesse. Cap. vi.

GLadnesse is an affection which is stirred with the opinion of some present goodnesse, wherwith the minde is delited. Cicero doth distynguish Gaudiū and Laetitiam, ioye and gladnesse in this wise, that the [Page] minde should be mooued with ioy paci­ently, and constantly, but with glad­nesse vainely and prodigally. With this affection y e Nature is merueilously delighted, and the hert enlarged, and as it were embracynge that whiche is apparant good, doth stirre the minde sweetly and delectably, and faustreth life in the hert, whiche sorow the con­trarie passion, doth oppresse. And this pleasantnesse and delectacion for the amplitude of y e good which is propoun­ded, may be greater or lesser, and either honest or filthy. It shabe honest if it be answerable to the meane of nature, and vnto reason: what one is gottē through the contemplation and studies of com­mendable thinges. But filthy if it be immoderate, and dissonant to reason: what one is receiued of corporal delites of peruerse exercises, and of yll will: as if any man should be delited with ano­ther mans harme, than which vice no­thing ought to be more abrogate from a man, especially a Christian.

Of Hatred and anger and like affections. Cap. vij.

COntrarye to Loue is ha­tred: which is defined of Cicero, Ira inueterata, a longe festred Anger, that is to wit of longe conti­nuance. This affection is ingendred of y e discontenting of the minde, detestinge the harme which is vnderstanded, & da­maged either with the deede or sayinge of som man, or deming him selfe hurted: and sometimes abhorring from ano­thers freendship through a priuy instinct of nature. Euen as perdie by Loue all all men are accorded, so by hatred they are vnyoked, than whiche nothynge is more pernicious to humaine societie, which also by so much is more irkesom, by how much more secretly it inuadeth. To contempne vices it profiteth but to loue a man Christian charitie commaū ­deth, and to forgeue him whiche offen­deth: But to hate a man for no cause, is very obsurde, and most dissonant from [Page] vpright iudgement. Vnto hatred are a­scribed many affection whiche are to be auoyded of a godly man: As dispight, as anger, as Hostilitie. Despight whereby any man thinketh another more base then himselfe: Whereas truly there is no cause why any one shoulde suppose himselfe to be preferred before his fe­low, by reason that he cannot common­strate any thinge of himselfe, whiche he hath not receiued els where, as it ought to be most euident vnto the Christians by holy Scriptures. Anger is defined, a lust to punish him who may seeme to haue hurted with iniury. This affection appeareth to be mingled with sorowe and a greedinesse of reuengemēt, which greeuously racketh a man, and sharpely kindleth agaynst him, of whome he is thought to be displeasured, the moste troublesome of all the affections: by which not only the minde, but also the whole body is brought into suche a per­plexitie that for anger a man can vneth see, and moderate his senses, and scarce­ly speake. Hereto doth Hostilitie be­longe, which is defined an anger of pu­nishing [Page] obseruynge oportunitie. And hither discorde the destruction of the cō ­mon weale, and hither all hatred is re­ferred. Iracundia doth differ from Ira, because Iracundia is a natiue faculty, by which any man is made prone to anger But Ira is a commocion of this vertue, and a rage bended from reason: Wher­by now and than the minde is so tur­moyled, that the angrie man doth very litle disagree from the Frantike. And truly it may be verified of Horace, Ira fu­ [...]or breuis, anger is a shorte furie: and of Ennius, Insaniae principium, the originall of Madnesse. The bloud is incensed with this passyon, and waxeth hotte in the bodie, and the Spirites sodenly dis­quieted doo so trouble a man, and cause him so vnagreable to him selfe, that he is sayd to be out of his Wittes, neither to become his owne man before that the hot brayned moode shall asswage, and the vehemencie relinquisht. But not euery anger is lyke contentious: for one is easier, eake sooner prouoked, and haleth a man vnwares, but abideth not longe: Another is more gentell [Page] truly, yet more bitter, and of greater induraunce, and cleuyng to hatred, and seekyng auengement. Neither ought euery anger appere vicious, sithe in sa­cred Scriptures wee may reade in this wise: Irascimini, & nollite peccare: Become you angrie and sinne not. Neither vncommodiously of Aristotle the mediocritie of anger betwixt ex­cesse and defect is renowned, and mode­rate anger linked as a companion of worthy prowesse vnto fortitude, which the auncient Academikes (Cicero bea­ring record) reported to be as it weare the Whetstone of valiaunt courage, that is to witte, the assistaunte: which Seneca geueth in precept to vse, not as a Capitain but as a souldiar. We must then be agréeued with vngodlinesse, wronge, and other vices: and our mind must be aduaunced when nede is, when time and place do require, but rest raig­ned, if no such occasion be ministred of anger. And by how much more gree­uously the minde is solicitated, by so much more painfully we shall brydle Choler, wee shall maister the brayde, [Page] and with all meane and might shall op­presse it forthwith the dominion of rea­son reuoked, and that dismounted which kendled the wrath, we shall extinguish the feruency, or els the punishment dif­ferred till another season, we shall ex­tenuate the passion.

Of Sadnesse. Cap. viij.

SAdnesse, or hea­uinesse, is a per­turbacion, drawinge together & oppressynge the minde, which is defined of Cicero, a freshe opinion of present euill, wherupon it may seem leifull the mind to be enlarged, and con­tracted. And after a bréefer way. Hea­uinesse is a shrincking of the minde rea­son repining. This taketh beginninge through the contemplacion of som euil, or els through the wante of some good thing. From this Fountaine proceede [Page] sundry passions which Cicero numbreth in the end of y e third booke of Tusculans Questions, and in the fourth, when as he had constituted foure sortes of per­turbacions, & had explaned them, he re­compteth them beyng reckned in these words: But vnto ech disturbance more partes of the same secte are adiected, as vnto sadnesse, enuy, emulation, backbi­ting, compassion (but this we suppose to be a good affectiō, not a greef of y e mind) vexacion, wailing, sorow, infelicity, wo­fulnesse, lamentacion, pensiuenesse, dis­quietnesse, affliction, dispeire, of which belowe we shall debate, and if any moe be of the same stocke. Hitherto Cicero, whom reade you your selfe defining e­uery of the fourmes. As euery pleasure is not saide to be vicyous, so neither e­uery sadnesse. And as it is a laudable thinge to triumphe at vertue: so to be sorrowfull for vice, to restreigne the minde immoderatly deliting, is profita­ble: neither semeth it an vnhoneste thing measurably to bewaile our wiues children, or Parentes.

Of Feare. Cap. ix.

FEare is a wayting of euill, either a carefull remembraunce of pensiue­nesse about to ensew, as Cicero re­cordeth, and it is repugnant to hope.

Feare is ingendred of the haling togea­ther of the hart throughe an opinion of imminent perill. Moderate feare is profitable, assenting to the counsaile of reason: But the vnmeasurable or ouer small is discommended. Som are more timorous, some more bolde, which the Phisicions déeme to be attributed to the Complexion of body: but yet in this place their Iudgemente is of no simple importaunce, by which timidity either is increased, or diminished. This per­turbacion doth very sore disprofite Na­ture, and cheefely so tormenteth a man [...]n sodaine cases, that who is horribly [...]stonished may appeare no lesse to fall [...]t of his right wittes, than he which is [...]reeuously displeased. Vnder feare be many fourmes comprehended, of which all there is one cause; the ende perdie [Page] and opinion of euil is diuerse: Slouth, terrour, shame, feare, quaking, dismai­yng, trouble, dreade, whose definitions you shall eftsones finde with Cicero in the same fourthe booke of Tusculans questions. To these béen adioyned flat­terie, whiche also is termed Timorous inticement: Suspicion a feare through a consideracion of mischiefe at hande: dispeyre a low abashement of y e minde: Pensiuenesse a prickinge care through the expectation of euill, and some other mo fourmes. Cicero hath descriued shame, and hath not defined it. The de­finicion may be absolued, that shame may be a feare of dishonesty, whome blushing doth follow, wherof hereafter we will debate more at large in Chapi­ter of Sober moode.

Of Boldnesse. Cap. x.

BOldenesse is gaged a­gainst feare, that we may in this place vnderstand a mo­derate vertu of aduenturing [Page] and a confidence of the mind, & a certain mediocrity betwixt to much and to litle either betweene timiditie and vnmea­surable hope, by which any one neither dreadyng mischief like to chaunce, nor present, doth aduenturously icoperde his ioynctes. This is engendred other­wise than feare, through the extending of the harte, the Spirites augmenting the heat therof: through whose force by reason that the mind is gouerned more often than by reason and counsell, the appellacion of boldnes is welme taken in the worse parte. It is disagreeable vnto true Fortitude, which when as prudently the daunger is throughly ex­amined aduentureth the same with a manly courage. And doubtlesse hether­to of affections: whose moderation is verye requisite for such as contende to the wished end by vertues, that also we may enioye a certaine tranquilitye of minde in the Earth which in Greeke is called [...], whiche Democritus de­fined the bound of good thinges, and the [...]igure and semblaunce of that vnfained Beatitude to come: The which with­out [Page] the benefite of Christ, who only is of power to appease the moodes of men through the cōfidence of life which shall happen, no wight at any season hath obteined.

Of Vertue and her diuision and Originall. Cap. xi.

VNto the ende pur­posed in the begin­ning all the actions of menne are direc­ted: to the whiche they aspire vertue beinge the guide, which very breefely may be defined.

A perfection by which the will is pric­ked to do agreably to right reason. For vnder the appellacion of right reason we vnderstand the law of Nature, and the knowledges of those thinges which are ingendred with vs, and ingraffed from aboue in our minds, that we may iustly determine of things good and bad, [Page] honest and filthy: as, that God is to bée worshipped, that no man is to be hur­ted, and such like, the whiche shall gaily be called the Squire of vertue, vnto whiche the operation of the whole life may be directed: with whom lesse it doth consente it can not be nominated a vertue. Vertue is defined of Saint Au­gustine, Ars bene re [...]eque viuendi: A science to liue well and perfectly. Of Cicero it is termed somtimes Recta ratio, a right reason, sometimes Animi Habitus, a custome of the minde, aun­swerable vnto humane nature, meane, and reason: sometimes Affectio animi constans conueniensque a stedfast and a conuenient affection, of the mind, ma­kinge them commendable in whome it persisteth. But of Aristotle it is defi­ned Habitus animi iudicio susceptus in mediocritate positus, A custome of the minde enterprised through reason situ­ated in mediocritie. In these definitions this worde Constans expoundeth what manner of thinge Habitus is, that wee vnderstand him to be procured through [Page] vse, and exercise. That it is saide, Rati­one susceptus, enterprised, or receiued through reason, that is to wit through election or aduise: that signifieth that the operation of vertue is voluntarie. That it is called Habitus animi, a cu­stom of the minde, that doth common­strate the habitacle of vertue. That it is, in mediocritate positus, placed in a competent degree, that is expressed in these wordes of Horace.

¶ Vertue is a meane in middes degree
Closde in both sides as thou mayst see.

That we may conceiue all vertues to be made moderated by a certaine mea­surable rate, which should be approued of wise persons, and skilfull in many ca­ses, and good. But when we affirme that the operacion of vertue is volunta­ry, either taken in hande through a frée Iudgement: that is to be considered, that we being furthered by the secret benefite of God, and succoure of the ho­ly Ghoste, withoute whom wée are of strength to worke nothing, obaying the right sentence of the minde, indeuoring with voluntarie will, may procure the [Page] perfection of vertue through diligence and frequent vse. For these be the two principall efficient causes of vertue, a minde iudgyng rightly, and a will obei­yng him which iudgeth and commaun­deth not amisse: Whiche yet are very much succoured through learnynge, the which may make brightsom the vnder­standynge of those sentences, who are within vs by nature, and the light geuē of God oftentimes obscured throughe wonderfull darkenesse, as the booke of holy Scripture conteining the .x. Com­maundementes, and through an encou­ragyng of natiue procliuitie, & through Discipline or obseruacion of manners, and peinfulnesse in gouernynge opera­cions, as the shūning of Idlenesse, and of these thinges which minister an occasiō of offending. Plato writeth in his booke Meno, vertue to be geuen of God, not to be ingendred in vs of nature (as y e Stoikes would) neither to consist only by prac­tise, as the Peripatetikes reported.

Certes it is to bee thought that true vertues do not chaunce vnlesse through a celestiall benefite: True ve [...] is the b [...] fite of [...] that also there be [Page] other some with lesse peines to be mol­lified of nature, notwithstandinge to be ratified by reason and custome.

Touchynge viciousnesse there is no doubte that it is voluntarie. Very aptly then it seemeth to be graunted that hu­maine operations are without compul­sion and that all vertues and vices are voluntary. For what is done by coac­tion, that meriteth neither prayse, nor disprayse: but is esteemed worthy of forgeuenesse. Vertue is sundred of o­thers into two partes: Iustice & For­titude, and of others into un Prudence Iustice, Fortitude, and Temperaunce. Some suppose vertue, as the whole to consist of members, whiche beynge ap­plied to sundry actions, may be of ef­ficacie to constitute diuers fourmes, whereas of all, one perfect vertue may be absolued: neither is there any one of them foure vertues whiche may want the felowship of the residew. Aristotle in only prudencie supporteth all ver­tues to be knitted together. Wee ap­prouynge the diuision of olde Philoso­phers, will distribute vertue into them [Page] foure braunces, whiche euen now wee haue placed: of whom the first doth go­uerne the intelligence, the rest the wil: to which may be annected whatsoeuer vertue els where may be traced out. And first and formost we will minister talke of Prudencie, in whose rehersall also Domestical and Politique affaires shall compendiouslye be remembred, which hereafter (if we shal thinke good) shall be debated more at large. Plato of these foure vertues, doth name some perfecte, who haue fired there restynge places in the minde: of whiche suche is the societie emonge them, that one be­ing taken away, all do fall vnto corrup­tion: but some vnperfecte, of which cer­taine, others being exempted, notwith­standinge maye bee able to remaine. Ther is an other particion of Vertues, by which they are diuided, into politike, Purgatory, and of the soule clensed, and into them as are like Paternes, and ex­amples: which Macrobius dooth copi­ously depainte in the eight Chapiter of his former booke of Commentaries on the dreame of Scipio. The firste Salo­mon [Page] teacheth in his Prouerbs, the o­thers wee reade in Ecclesiastes, the third in the Ballets, the fourth in God. The politique do rule humayn life, eke maintayne the outward society of life: The Purgatory doo scoure the spots of the soules, and do contend vnto victory. But the vertues of the soule clensed are collocated in him, which (the vices now quite troden vnder foote) doth constant­ly perseuer in y e loue of vertues: which S. Augustine, when as he confirmed the other three, did not alow. They are commonly termed Exemplares paterus and examples, which are as it were Ideae (as the Greekes do call them) or els fourms and figures in the diuine mind, sith God is the counterpaine of all good thinges. Vertue is defined of Cicero, as it is declared, somtimes Recta racio a right reason, somtimes Natura in se perfecta, & ad sumum perducta, a na­ture sounde in it selfe, and brought vn­to the vtmost: Otherwhiles Rationis perfectio, a perfection of reason, which definition Seneca imitatinge, doth [...] recorde: Vertue is none other than [Page] an vpright reason, vnto which as a rule all the doinges of life are directed. And feately euery Originall of vertue pro­ceedeth from perfect reason, neither is vertue any other thing, then (as Cicero minionly descriueth) a right affection of the minde, from whom as it were from som Fountaine all vndefyled operati­ons, which are nominated dewties, do proceede, of which Cicero hath excel­lently written. And thus I suppose it bee vnderstanded (because manie haue affirmed that ther is one onely vertue) that perdie there is one office either an action appointed to euery man of vp­righte reason, which (accordinge to the multiplicity of the mater which it hand­leth, inclined to sundrie affayres,) may procreat these foure vertues, which we haue remembred aboue. For ther is in very déede, onely one perfect affection of the minde, the mother of all vertues: whose chaungeable appellations bee, Prudence, Iustice, Fortitude, Tem­peraunce, of whiche wee will reason in order: if first wee shall géeue this in Lesson, not onely these whiche are [Page] called the giftes of the holy Ghoste, but likewise all true vertues (as Plato deuoutely supposed in that Dialogue which I haue recited afore) to chaunce vnto vs by no meanes, vnles by an hea­uenly benefite: vndoubtedly if we em­brace the goodnesses of God, and labour to attaine to the ende, hee beinge oure guide.

Of Prudencie. Cap. xij.

PRudencie, as it weare the Maistresse and iudge of other vertues, of which none can be destitute, is fitly placed in the first degree, as the Capitaine of opera­cions, and the science of liuing: which is defined of Cicero, the experience of de­siring, and eschewinge thinges: that is to wit a right affection of the minde, by which it is perceiued what is to be done or shunned in humayn actions. Of Cor­nificius in bookes of Rhetorik vnto He­rennius, it is termed Calliditas a s [...]ines, which through a certaine reason maye [Page] obtaine a choise both of good and badde, because all the facultie of wisdom is ap­ [...]rooued in the election of good and euill [...]ings, & of them as be neither good nor [...]ll. He vnderstandeth a wilynesse, not [...] vicious, who oft times boroweth [...] same appellacion, but that subtility [...]ch priuyly vndermineth with a cer­ [...]ne honest, and profitable dissimula­ [...]n. Vnto the which, craftie sayinges, [...]d deceiptfull doynges, which in war­ [...] are called Stratagemes, are refer­ [...] Of the same writer also prudencie [...]ermed Multarum rerum memoria, [...] memory of many matters, and the [...] of plentifull affaires. Although per­ [...] [...]isdom as other vertues, is conuer­ [...]nte in humaine actions. Notwith­ [...]nding especially trouth is Subiecte [...]erto, as the mattier, which it hand­ [...]h. And certes the inquisicion and [...]arche of soothe, seemeth to be peculiar [...] man. Vnto the out finding of veritie [...]ue vertues comprehended vnder In­ [...]elligence are adioygned of Aristotle: Science, Arte, Prudence, Sapience, vnderstanding of which, Science, Sa­pience [Page] and vnderstandynge require a a definite knowledge, cake an absolute vertue: Art and prudencie a probable one. Science is defined, a sure and an e­stablished knowledge and learninge of some matter through the cause, whiche is perceaued withoute any ayde by na­turall motions of the minde, or els it is atchiued through demonstration of ar­gumentes: and it is of those thinges whiche may not otherwise exist, or els be transfigured, as diuinity. Arte is said a perfection to dispatche those things by reason which otherwise may be: as all humaine craftes. Prudency is defined, A qualitie to perfourme those thinges by reason which are either commodious or hurtfull to man. Sapience verely, is a most exquisit knowledge of those mat­ters, whiche are able to bee learned of man, who compriseth the experience of diuine and human affaires. Vnderstan­ding is called a qualitie, perceauing the principles, out of which confirmations are deducted. Vnto Prudency he annec­ted Art, Science, Intelligence and Sa­pience; that althoughe verely he gaine­saieth [Page] Vertue to be a Science, yet he supposeth that shee is not of power to perseuer without this. For althoughe onely goodnesse is purposed to vertues, and trouth vnto Disciplines: yet wher­as to the searche hereof a greedinesse of good is coupled. Science, Sapience, Art, and Intelligence, appere that they may not absurdely be nominated vertues, if they serue for the operations of Pru­dence, & succoure the outfindinge of that which is good. They ought not attende verelye to the contemplacion of causes only, sithens all the commendacion of Vertue consisteth in dooinge, and in go­uerning the life vndefiledly. Prudency then may take vnto her as waytynge mates, vnderstanding, for to know mat­ters: Science truly to conceiue them: Arte for the generall vse of life: Sapi­ence for the out tracting of diuers things that by these props she may passe to the knowledge of trouth, and may compre­hend the verie Soueraine good, and the liuely Fountaine of all wisdome flow­ing with Heauenly waters, & rushinge forth moste swiftly into eternall lyfe. [Page] Now wheras vnto euery vertu certain seats in the soule, from whence they is­sue, are attributed: A place is graunted to Prudencie in the minde, to the rem­naunt in the will: sith it belongeth to prudencie to bolt out what is honest, or wicked in matters to be handled and to debate of the same with iustful sentēce. Which thyng doubtlesse is adepted not only by wit, although sharpe, but by a greate knowledge of sundry matters. And very pretely it is sayd, Longo pru­dentia surgit ab vsu, Prudence ariseth through longe practise: that we vnder­stand the perfection of y e minde, whence creepeth this dexteritie of triynge out the truth, to be termed prudencie, who desireth a longe life, and the handlynge, and memory of diuers matters, and the science of present cases to leuel vpright­ly the interchaungeable operation of men. Moreouer it is requisite that a prudent man be polished with a certain natiue faculty of through seyng and ad­iudgyng the trouth: by whiche he may contemplate thinges present, and dili­gently discusse them, may call to re­membrance [Page] matters past, & may fore­see sequels: through whiche he may ex­cell in takyng aduise, and in outfindyng wittily: through which he may passe in perceauyng clerely what is true in ech matter, and what is to be attempted: through which he may florish in propo­singe sentence iustfully, eake in ratifi­yng subtely and wisyly what is decent, what filthie, what profitable. For there are three partes conteined vnder wys­dome, [...] a facultie of ministrynge holsom counsell, good aduise: [...], a perfect sight and cunnyng in finishinge of that whiche is excogitated through profitable counsell: and Gnome, a sen­tence and iust verdit of matters to bée perfourmed, and a stedfastnesse in that which is leyfull. It is the duty than of a prudente wighte (that I may driue my tale at his marke in few wordes) to re­member those thinges which are past, to be skilfull in many matters, to flowe in counsell, to be quicke witted, and to Iudge well: and farthermore to leade not only an vndefiled conuersacion, but also, as place and oportunity in this cō ­mon [Page] life shall craue, to becom somwhat more charie and circumspecte. And tru­ly concerning the charge of Prudencie, who should be kept in humain operaci­ons, we haue treated hitherto. And by reason the variety of doinges appertei­ning to men is seuored in three sortes, that some should be of peculiar persons, which be Coincident to euerie one, and generall: som Domestical, which serue to the order of Family: others ciuill which we muste put in vre, for the pre­seruacion of the Publike fellowship of menne: a three parted force of wisdome likewise may be gathered: the one com­mon to all sortes, which is named Mo­nastica solitary, the second Oeconomica belongyng to householde: the third Po­litica, which is thought to be the excel­lentest of all others, because first and formost it is busied in common vtilitie, vnto whiche yet wee must clime by de­gree. For he shall not well gouerne ei­ther a family or els a weale publike, who is not a good man, and informed with the rules of condicions and fashio­ned vnto euery vertue, and shall come [Page] prepared to the common wealth, and shall wit perfectly to nurtur an house­holde. The two latter of these three members of Morall Philosophie: Al­though they be seuerally debated of A­ristotle, yet in this place likewise, be­cause they are ruled of prudencie, which (as Cicero telleth in his particions ora­toriall) in her proper affayres is accu­stomed to be termed domesticall, and in cōmon cases politike, we shal descriue.

Of Domesticall gouer­uernance. Cap. xiij.

WEe haue spoken of that part of wisdom which is tried in the operacions of euery man: Now we muste intreate of that which is comprehended in the houshoulde duties whome the Greekes tearme [...], that is to wit, consideracion well to trade the fa­ [...]ily, either which is touchinge the pre­seruacion of housewifery affaire. This [Page] respect is busied verely in the houshold, as in the mattier which it handleth: to whom that scope is propounded, that it be wittelye gouerned for the worthi­nesse of euery parson. Euery Family consisteth of two partes, the man, and the substaunce. The man compriseth the Husband, or the Maister, the wife, the Children, the seruauntes: But the substaunce conteyneth the house and worldly pealthe. Let vs briefly reason of these orderly, and let vs take begin­ning of the dutie of the good man of the house, because he is the first Original of a Family to be ordained. The Lorde of the place then, whom we vnderstande by nature studious of freendship and af­finity, & getting children, ought both to know, and be able to protecte the soci­etie of his wife and Children, and gent­ly and curteously to rule ouer his, both Children and Seruauntes: of which they oftentimes are of a more honest nature, these commonly of a more vile. The family now constituted, nourish­ment is to be sought for, sustenance, ap­parell and harborough whiche may de­fende [Page] vs from stormes, and inrodes of Beastes. Groundtilthe, Huntinge, Hawking, Fishinge, labour shall mini­ster Foode. Now whereas the goodman and wife are the cheefest and effeciente causes of Houshould, and the Children, and Seruauntes, as it weare certaine Instrumentes, and euerie one are con­uersaunt in the house and substaunce as the mattier: we in this place first & for­most will vtter a few wordes of them: and then wee shall expresse the Offices of the persons a little before nomina­ted. Before all others a mansion place is to be sought for, which the necessitie of life compelled men to Builde, that they might haue whether to trudge, as birdes into their Nestes, Beastes, into their couerts: In the beginning houses were erected for a seruiceable vse, forth with by littel and littel Ornamentes approched therto. Especially a confide­racion is to bee had of the profite and commodity, and next of eche ones dig­nitie. Ouermuche coste and hurtfull sumptuousnes, it not to be admitted in building, and that the house, as he coun­seled, [Page] want not ground. The holesom­nesse and fitnesse of place is to be view­ed, and manie moe, which Victrunius and Philosophers, who haue written, de re familiari, diligently haue expres­sed. And hetherto recheth the discourse of the house: henceforth wee ought to dispute of affaires apperteining to Fa­milie. That is either naturall, and the worthieste, of all: as Husbandry, Hunting, Fishing, Or els artificious, which considereth gaine: as traueiles & trades throughe which the liuinge is a­depted. Besides there are others part­ly liberall, partely seruile, as the crafte of Painting, as the drawinge of simili­tudes, as the science of buildinge, which are brought to perfection both by witte and trauaile. Of these Artes (which are many and chaungeable, inuented for the diuers wantes of men) the good man of the house ought to put that in practise in whiche he shall haue skill, and should prouide sustenaunce honestly for him and his without pillinge and pollinge of any man: He ought to auoyde incom­modious and hatefull trades, and ought [Page] to searche for the profitable. The lucre of Vsurers, and of Escheters, or of such as do selfe any maner of thing for a for­faiture is odious. Likewise the gaine of those Marchauntes who are enriched with forged tales is filthy, which be the seruauntes of Delyces. The maister of the house ought to preserue such things which are gotten, & ought to vse them temperatly, and ought to vnderstande that it is not lesser cunninge to saue them than to procure them. And these thinges haue wee compendiously made manifest touchinge the house and hous­holde prouision: Now we will pursue the charges or offices of houshold dwel­lers, and first of the good man, of whom before we began to treate of. His chee­feste regarde shalbee, to marry a wife, which is a companion and a copartner of life and goods, honest, prudent, welny as riche as him selfe, not proude, nor more curious then néedeth, or els way­warde, whiche may bothe be loued, and loue. He shal intreate her no otherwise than him selfe a Leagfellow and a par­tener as of Seruice and Domesticall [Page] toyle, so likewise of all casualties and affaires: And perdie he shall loue her only ioigned vnto him with a bonde not able to be dissolued, and as becommeth a free woman, he shall not withhold her ouer rigorously, if so that no iuste feare of Chastity doth interrupte. Neither shall he handle her vnciuily, but honest­ly, godly, comely, courteously, gentelly, that he remember how he is a Christi­an man, the head perdie of his wife, but whome he oughte to tender as the halfe part of him selfe, and permit her also to vse her certaine peculier right. He shall traine vp the Children begotten of his wife diligently, he shall fashion them to vertue and godlinesse beyng as yet ten­der, and shal prouide them to be institu­ted with holsome and expedient trades: he shal seeke his pelth by his owne tra­uell and industrie vertuously, and with­out enuie: and he shal keepe a commen­dable trade of clodding substance, either by makyng of Contractes, either by do­yng of workes, or els through more ho­nest and better meanes to espie out riches and promocions (whiche are ver [...] [Page] many) he shall minister foode bothe to himself and his, if necessitie shall vrge him to seeke. If so be the wealth is not to be gotten with paynes takynge, but is left of the parentes, he shal protecte the same hedely, & he shal imploy costes wisely and moderatly, an aduyse beyng had of the place and condition, that nei­ther he may be accompted a greedy gut, nor an outragious spender, and had leif­fer at al season both to be recitened, and also to be more liberal, than couetous. If the master hath seruauntes, he shall know to vse them wel, and he shal in­struct them, and shal freendly intreate them. But if they being hyred for meed do faithfully serue, he shal consider their paynes, and shal exercise them in con­ueniēt trauel, he shal not fatigate them: and he shal nourish them as it becom­meth, he shal see vnto them as the ne­cessarie instrumentes of the house, and he shal keepe them in awe, nor shal per­mit them to be aduaunced arrogantly. He shal pay them gentely their coue­nant at due time. If there shalbe many seruantes, they are to be preferre [...] ei­ther [Page] to a more excellent or vyler office as ech ones capacitie requireth. The wyfe ought to respecte the house paine­fully and dayly, and ought to be present at domesticall doynges, she ought to marke the chayres of her seruantes: she ought to reuerence her husbande, not curst and snappish, but pudique, and she ought to keepe cleanly both her maydes and children, and al the rest pliant and peasible in their office: She ought not to be stately, not sumptuous, nor yet beastly, but appareled with decent at­tier accordyng to habilitie. Her chiefest regard ought to be in bringyng vp her children honestly. She ought to deuyse to encrease her goods, & ought to keepe that with sobernesse, whiche is gotten with the toyle of her husband. The chil­dren ought to reuerence their parentes they ought to loue them & (as God him selfe hath cōmaunded) they ought to ho­nour them, they ought willingly to exe­cute their cōmaundements, they ought to be obedient to them in all respectes, they ought likewise to obey their schole masters, which are the instructours of [Page] the minde, & as it were second parents, For they both are charged w t one thing, to trayne vp youthe vertuously. They ought to apply the studies appoynted them, they should eschew idlenesse and pleasure before the rest as pernicious plagues: they ought to reuerence their elders, and magistrates as well spiri­tuall as temporall, and the honest per­sons and discreete: But they ought to esteeme those with a certayne princi­pal good will of whom both their vtte­raunce and harte are decked with right excellent sciences vnto all humanitie. The seruantes ought to be obedient and faithfull to their maysters, herke­nyng to their precept, and alwaies bent to finish their commaundement: they ought to haue in reuerence, & loue their maisters as their parentes; they ought to be thriftie, appayde with a moderate liuing, and requisite apparel, thei ought willyngly to enlarge the riches of their maysters, they ought to steale nothyng priuily: They ought paciently to suffer their mayster, if he shalbe more curious than needeth; if he shalbe more easie to [Page] please, they may not neglecte him.

Whether it be leiful for Christians, to haue bondemen, and whether any may be bondmen by nature (which thing A­ristotle alloweth) I leaue to be discussed of others.

Of Politike gouernance. Cap. xiiij.

EVen as a Family consisteth of particuler men, so doth a City of many Families, of which presently we will debate. In a common weale wel to be gouerned, Prudencie is cheefely tried, withoute which no societie of man can be ruled. Politike gouernaunce, or els a weale Publike is defined of Plutarchus in his booke De tribus Reipub. generibus, a state and order of a Citie, to be obser­ued in ruling of matters. This Ciuill wisdom prescribeth the actions of Citi­zens: eke is altogether occupied in de­fendinge the societie of man, as in the [Page] matter which it hath taken in hand to be reasoned vpon: and hath that scope propounded vnto her selfe, that the weale publik may be discretly handled, and that prouision may be made for the sauegard of the inhabitantes. Aristotle gaue this difference betwixt a Family and a common wealth, that in the com­mon wealthe there shoulde be an equa­litie of prerogatiue, by which y e highest shoulde be valued with the lowe: But in the houshold the Maister should haue the Empire of a King ouer his children and Seruauntes, as his Subiectes a­monge whom the like equality can not be. Of common weales sixe fourmes are recited: three good, which the prince, the Nobilitie and the commens do mi­nister iustfully, and conueniently for for the general profite of the whole Ci­tie: and so many wicked, which the Ti­raunte, and the bande of a fewe, and the [...]eane people do gouern as their owne [...]st impelleth them, haling all thinges [...]o their proper behoofe. There appea­ [...]eth no Citie of any nation, which may [...]ot be referred to some of these. That [Page] Common weale whiche consisteth of them three whiche are esteemed good, Cicero in his bookes De Repub: sup­poseth to be best, by reason it is more excelent, more profitable, and of lenger perpetuitie than the rest. Amonge the Romanes, after the kynges expelled out of their Realmes, euen vnto Iulius and Augustus Respub: Democratica, the fourme of the cōmon wealth where the people had authoritie without any other state seemeth to haue ben so tem­pred with a certaine moderation of the kyngdome of Aristocratia whiche is a state of a Weale publike, where many rule that are moste worthie in vertue, and prowesse, that a certaine Princely maiestie did excell in the Consuls A­ristocraria in the senators, Democratia in the Tribunes of the common sorte, but the cheefest power was in the pos­session of the people. Now a princely Monarchy ratified by the aduice of pru­dente Peeres, and Sauced with vnre­moouable decrées appeareth worthelie to be aduaunced before al others for cō ­modity [Page] and quietnesse especialy sithens not by election, but throughe a certaine Heauenlie prouidence Realmes are transported to the Children of Kinges & Princes generated through the Lawe of bloud beinge the successours of their Parents, or vnto the next of aliaunce. Because perdy a Citie consisteth of the multitude of Cittizens leadinge their liues vprightly, let vs manifest what ones they ought to be. He is to be na­med a good Citizen of his countrie, who being trimmed with ciuill vertues, and espicially with Iustice and Fortitude, whom Prudence, and Temperaunce, do moderate, may be able to perfourme very well not only Domestical and fa­milier offices, but also Publike both at home, and in warre. There is neede of common Schoolemaisters bothe honest and lerned to declare vertues, through whose trauel Children gaily instituted from their youth, may depart exquisite in honesty and Godlinesse, and through the knowledge of most excellent mat­ters, become profitable members to their countrie. If so be the riches of the [Page] Parentes may not beare, that their Children by leasure may be enriched with liberall studies: the next remedie is that they be learned som kinde of oc­cupacion, whereby they may get their liuing. Ydlenesse and pleasure vere­ly are diligently to be shunned of all men: Alwaies studie, and an honeste and commodious exercise bothe of the minde and body is to be required. By al meanes possible it is to be laboured of all good citizens, but principally of the Parents and instructours, that by rea­son children, and youthstate can easilie imitate any thinge, they may lighten them in the purity of life, and may be a paterne of vertu to their younger: Let euery occasion of trespassyng, as much as habilitie will geue leaue, be taken away: Let the enticementes of concu­piscence and wantonnesse be remoued: Let obedience be exhibited to the ma­gistrate, if he be good. As to the father of the country, vnto whom authoritie is geuen from aboue: But if he be ill, let him pacienly be suffered, and with­out sedicion modestly and meekely be [Page] admonished of his duty. Let the Lawes be obserued: Let Religion cheefely be reuerenced: Let peace and concord be kept among the Citizens. Let euery cause of discord be eschewed. Let euery manne haue a respect to his owne busi­nesse: Neither let any man giue him selfe to beare Office in the common weale vnlesse he be called: Let rest al­waies be soughte for: Let pencions be paide: Let the countrey be most deare to euery man, for whom a good Citezen shall not feare to die, if neede shall re­quire. For the cheefest loue next vnto God is due to the Countrey, and to the Magistrate: the next to the Parentes and kinsfulke, the third to the Citizens linked or vnited together through the commonnesse of Lawe. Let Foriners or Straungers peruse their businesse, nor let them be ouer inqisitiue in other mens affaires. Let them behaue them elues modestly. It is the charge of a magistrate, to gouerne the weale pub­like wittily: to vse them moderately and warily, ouer whom he beareth rule (whiche he cannot absolue, vnlesse he [Page] be of an honest minde and good iudge­ment, as a wyse and prudent man) to mainteyne the lawes, that they may be obserued, to the whiche also he himselfe shall obey: To behaue himself decently accordyng to the dignitie of state, which he hath put on, courteously, modestly, iustly, not filthely, not couetously, not proudely, not waiwardly, not cruelly: to geue vpright sentence to al men: to mi­nister no rigorousnesse or parcialitie: to extende clemencie, sharpenesse, and e­quitie in castigations and punishments: lesse he shuld chastice some more sharp­ly, others more softly which are accused of one matter, except any thyng inter­rupt, that may inforce him so to worke agaynst his will: After one fashion to care for all the Citezens both riche and poore, noble and base: to thinke himself to be the father of the common wealth: to purney thinges behoueable for the Citie, as Corne, if by chaunce scarcitie and dearth of grayne should be feared, as other thynges of whiche there shalbe néede in the extremities of the common wealth: And then next to haue an espe­ciall [Page] regarde of the poore, when as ne­cessitie greatly oppresseth, chiefly a cō ­mon penury, what? one is the pouertie of corne. It shall be his parte to inter­tayne straungers, and alians, and pil­grimes freendly and fauorably, lesse the citie should be il spoken of among foren Nations: To conclude, it lieth in him to referre all his cogitations to the saue­gard of the common wealth: to attende vpon her profits and vtilities, especial­ly to cherish euery where the dignitie and reputation thereof. And because [...]ne cannot sustaine all the dueties, it is expedient that diuers magistrates vn­dertake diuers offices: of which al not­withstanding there ought to be the like studie, to tender the profits of the cite­zens, and more earnestly to seeke for the commoditie and safegard of them, than their owne. If so fortune serue that battell is to be waged (whereas nothynge more pernicious than it can [...]e inspired of God into the common [...]ealth.) Let that of Terence be borne [...]way. Consilio omnia prius experiri, [...]uain armis, saprentem decet. It be­commeth [Page] a wyse man first to assault all thinges with aduise, than with dent of sworde. If the daunger cannot be with holden which is threatned all men, wee must geue the onset prudently, and we must repell it valiauntly, yet no battel is to be enterprised but that whiche is iust: to execute the which wel, an ear­ [...]est preparacion is to be taken in hand: stoute Champions are to be sought for and skilful of Marcial feates, nor strong men only, but also witty and Politike: Souldiars must be sought out speedely, and a choise is to be gathered of them: Argent is to be Coyned, which truly is termed Nemus belli the sinew of war­fare: The Souldiars are to be kept in office, vnto whom (that he may appeare to [...]ear the maistry) wage is to be attri­buted at due time: And chary heede is to be had that they spoyle not them whom they are hyred to protect: which is suf­ficiently and more than inough expe­rimented by the olde complaynt, bothe of countrie men and Citizens, what a cruell and lothsome a thynge it is to the miserable comminaltie. It is not meete [Page] that a Magistrate be altogether rude and vnskilful of chiualry. And although at these daies there is a far contrary fa­cion of waging Battel than in auncient times, by reason of the new inuencion of Hellish fire, yet the booke of Mar­cial policy shal auaile very greatly, as of Flanius vegetius, Iulius Frontinus, Ali [...] ­nus, and such like, throughe perusing of which a greate knowledge of warfare shal be procured: the which is to be con­firmed by the experience of olde and sturdy Souldiars which haue been pre­sent at sundry Skirmishes, and of stout and Prudente Capitaines which haue learned warlike prowesse through long practise: who would doubte it to becom moste absolute? Neither doth this sci­ence appeare lesse conducible to the Ci­tie, than Sage wisdome, or whatsoeuer crafte there is commodious for life.

For wheras ther be three sortes of men in the common wealthe: as officers, which should rule wel and iustly: as Capitaines & Souldioures which should faithfully and valiauntly defend: as ar­tificers bothe of comlie and vndecente [Page] disciplines, which should aide the neces­sary and profitable trades: Yet vnto al them ought there to be a like indeuoure to maintaine the weale Publike with amiable agreement. And thus muche in Politike Prudence to be considered.

Of Vices contrary to vvisdom. Cap. xv.

IGnoraunce is a vice cōtrary to wisdom, who likewise after a contrary sort may be defined: An vn­skilfulnesse to dis­cerne good and euill thinges, or els to out finde the truth, or to determine what is to be doone, or what is to be left of. This is a common plague to all vices, as prudencie to ver­tues, because no vertue can want the aduise of wisdom: and euery vniust, and sluggish and vntemperate person, the same ought to be called vnwise. The companions of imprudence be, the er­rour [Page] of the mynde, and temeritie re­pugnant to perfect iudgement: and the foolysh person attributeth much vnto Fortune, whom he reuerenceth as a Goddesse where as he vseth not reason and counsell: and yelding his good will to affections doeth commonly admit those thynges, of which afterwardes he repenteth: or els cōtrarywise through cowardlynesse and negligence neither regardeth his children nor wife, and ke­peth no instruction in his householde, and no kinde of authoritie. If suche a Magistrate shalbe in the weale publike the wicked will suppose that a licence is ministred vnto them to treade a­misse: if there be suche a Capitayne the Souldiours will become dastardes, yea and they whom he reteyned valiaunt, what manner of felowes Scipio Ami­lianus founde before the destruction of Numantia, whom he reduced to theyr antique manlinesse Marciall discipline restored, and ouerslipped no occasion of any worthy feate to be practised.

Wilinesse verely is a vice, whiche with a certaine cloke of vertu deludeth [Page] the vncircumspect: which sith it purpo­seth not to trauell for the truthe, it can not be called wisdom, but a suttell and a Foxlike counterfaiter of Prudencie: who yet somewhiles is compted a ver­tue, if it be wrested vnto a commodious ende. But the partes and operations of Prudence beyng perceiued, it shall not be a perplexed businesse to vndermine the contrarie: Notwithstandynge wee must be very wary that vices do not de­ceiue vs, whiche appeare to counterfet vertue. Doubtlesse vertue her selfe is a mediocritie welnie betwixt two extre­mes, but of whiche thone is a manifest dice, and is apertly perceiued: as when ignorance is set against wisdom, wrong against Iustice, cowardnesse agaynst Fortitude, Intemperance, agaynst Temperaunce, Couetousnesse, against Liberalitie. But the other because he is a vice, cousin germain to Vertue is not so easely espied, as when craftinesse or subtiltie is gaiged agaynst wisedome, cruelty against Iustice, lewdhardinesse agaynst manlinesse, an outragiousnesse in despising of pleasures agaynst tem­perance, [Page] Prodigalitie against liberali­tie, Obstinacy agaynst perseuerance. For as Ouide saies.

And mischiefes are of kinne to good,
for vnder that deceiptfull weede,
Vertue oftetimes hath borne the checke,
for vices rootes who bringe the seede.

Of Iustice. Cap. xvi.

CIcero calleth Iustice Dominam ommum & reginam virtutum, The Lady and Princesse of al vertues: and defines it, a perfection of the minde, whiche the common vtilitie beyng maintened, yel­deth to euery one his statelinesse: and he calleth it, an affection of the minde, whiche geueth to eche one his due, and defendeth the societie of humain felow­ship bountifully and egally. Moreouer it is discribed of the same author: An euenesse, geuynge euery one his right accordyng to the dignitie and desert of euery person: Aristotle calleth it, an [Page] affection of the minde, wherby men are fit to worke iustfully, and by whiche both they will and do such thinges as be rightful: & after the same sorte we may manifest iniustice, by which men exer­cise wronge, and are voluntarily infor­ced to vnlawfull matters. The La­wiers terme it, a constant and a perpe­tuall will ministryng to euery man his right. For Iustice is conuersant in di­stribution of equitie, as in the mattier, that the equalitie, whiche the law doth procreate, may be preserued. There be vices repugnant to euery one, to this iniustice, to the other iniurie: To For­titude and Temperance more. No­thing is more expedient than this vertu to mainteyne the societie of humaine kinde, nothing more agreable to nature who hath fashioned vs vnto al humanity and natural beneuolence. If so be wee are borne for this felowship (as mini-only Cicero confirmeth in his first bake De legibus) we must confesse that we in like case are ingendred for Iustice with out whiche that societie and felowship cannot consiste: and that the same is [Page] naturally engraffed in vs as a Torche caried before one to work rightful mat­ters, & to eschew the contrarie, through the opinion of vndeceiuable reason, ge­uen by the consent and benefit of God: whiche if it be ratified with the vse of operation, then at length a custome & a perfection of vertue shalbe procured, wherof Nature hath geuen as it were litle sparkes. Touchyng that which is called in question concerning the medi­ocritie of Iustice, she is verely (as Ari­stotle deemeth) a meane: but she is pla­ced betwixt both extremities after ano­ther sorte than y e residue of the vertues Morall, who is referred vnto right and euennesse: in preseruacion of which she is conuersante, euen as iniustice and in­iurie the disquieter of egall dealing and rightfulnesse is busied in vnequalitie.

Of the partes of Iustice. Cap. xvij.

THE partes of Iustice be two: the one common and vniuersall, which is occupied in preseruacion of the right of humane so­cietie, and it considereth a common good, and learneth vs to re­uerence right and equity: the other pri­uate, which is verified in restoring to e­uery man what is duetiful. And this is double: One which reteineth equali­ty in fourmes of choppinge and chaun­ging together, and in affaires, which v­sually is called Commutatiua: Another which is occupied in distribution of ho­noures accordinge to ech mans worthi­nes, which they tearme Distributiuam. The charge of common Iustice is to maintaine law, and equitie, whervpon he is called a iust manne, who sheweth him selfe obedient to all customs. Law is defined of Cicero, a reason engraffed of nature, whiche commaundeth those thinges which are to be taken in hand, and forbiddeth the contrary: And in like sorte, a right reason, and deriued from the mighte of the Gods, charging [Page] such matters as are honest, disanulling the contrary. Hether all decrées may be referred, statutes, manners, ordi­naunces, expedient for the sauegarde of the weale publike in obseruing of which Iustice is tried, in violating of which iniustice. Equitie coupleth her selfe to the law, who folowinge the righte sen­tence of reason, doth gouerne the lawe written, and as the worthiest interpre­toure of al lawes, doth wittily asswage rigorous sharpenesse according to the place, oportunity, and dispositions of men. That member of priuate Iustice which is Tituled, Distributiua, pertea­neth cheefly vnto magistrates: who not only is occupied in grauntinge Offices and rewardes, but also in appointinge punishments, that with an equal lawe the citizens may be ruled, both the ver­tuous beneficed, and the naughty cor­rected. This perdie is the charge of a Magistrate: but the intelligence of this vertue is necessarie for all men, that e­uery man may vnderstande his place whiche he should keepe in the common wealth, and the dutie whiche he should [Page] execute: and should attribute and leaue vnto euery one bothe place and dutie, and should knowe him selfe, nor should glory ouer much in his proper conceite. This vertue by reason especially it stu­dieth to succour equality, is compared to Geometricall proporcion, in which a like consideration is had of greater and lesser numbers. But that parcel which they terme Commutatiuam is occupied in bargaininges of men, and teacheth to yéelde vnto euery man his owne, that ware for ware, the value for the chaf­fer be geeuen, perfecte equality beinge kepte: and this hath a care rather to render home debte, than to distribute promocion to the worthier: Wherfore in like case it is clogged with Arithme­ticall proporcion, because in this the numbers, in the other an indifferency of reason is respected. This is conuer­saunt in contractes which the Lawyers do display: the other in Dignities and penalties, which are appointed of Ma­gistrates. And hetherto of al kinde of Iustice, and her partes. But because vnto these other sixe members are sub­uected [Page] defined of Cicero in his bookes De Inuentione: Religion, Pietie, Re­uerence, Trouth, Reuenging, Thank: to whiche shalbe adioyned liberalitie, magnificence, frendship, and vices disa­gréeable to euery one: of these also we must expresse our opinion. These ver­tues by reason, they consist through the equality of reason, they seeme to be ad­iected vnto distributing Iustice, like as euerye varitye of bargaines to the ex­chaunging.

Of the six partes of Iustice constituted of Cicero, and their vices, and of som other vvhich be vvelnie of the same nature. Cap. xviij.

CIcero in his second booke De Inuentione hath re­hearsed thrée partes of Iustice: the law natural, vsual, and the law leiful. [Page] And the law natural he defineth, which opinion may not bring to vs, but a cer­taine instruction naturall, wherof he nūbreth six members, which euen now I haue declared. Religion is one, a right­fulnesse towardes God, either a piety wherby we adore him: so called as Lac­tantius writeth in his fourth booke. A religando, of sure binding, by reason for this cause we are engendred, that we may exhibite iust and dutifull seruyces vnto God begetting vs, y t we shuld him onely acknowledge, that him we should folow. We are linked and fastned vn­to God with this bonde of godlinesse. Plutarchus doth interpreate Religion, Scientiam rerum Dominarum, a science of diuine matters: wee terme it Vir­tutem a Vertue, by which a iuste and a trewe worship is geuen to God. The which (as of all vertues) so likewise we shal wel cal it the ground, and doubtles the Parente and Mother of Iustice. Nothinge is more necessary than this vertue to preserue the common wealth and to lead the life egally, and without couine amonge the Citizens: sithe no [Page] strength may rather bannish men from all vnthriftinesse, than if they shal per­ceaue that theare is affliction prepared of God for the transgressoures, and a path made open vnto Heauen and vnto [...]ternal felicity for suche as leade their [...]ues godly and iustly. There hath been [...]et neuer any Nation so Barbarous which hath not fauoured som Religion although it were false, and forbidden from working of iniury through y e feare of som God, wheras an Othe was ac­compted a most streight band to wring their faith together. What is it expe­diente that Christians do? to whome [...]aithfulnesse is geuen the grounde of al [...]eligion of Iesus Christ our Lorde and [...]auiour, and the holy Apostles and his [...]uccessours, so ratified that neither by any humayne force, nor yet infernall rage it may be ouerthrowen: I say, what is it meete for them to doo, vnto whom leading their liues with vertue God himselfe hath proposed a sure hope of blisful and sempiternal life: through the confidence of whose promise, what true godly man for sanctified religion [Page] will stagger to lese his breathe, if neede shall require? How easely might all in­iurie be put to flight if that precept of God our sauiour & maister were deeply grauen in all mens mindes. Quod tibi fieri nolis, alteri nefeceris, What thou wilt not to be committed agaynst thy selfe, thou shalt not do to another. Which sentence wise felowes also dis­senting from our religion haue so mer­ueiled at, that they esteemed nothynge more diuine, that nothing coulde be de­liuered more auayleable to maynteyne the fellowship of men. Contrarious to Religion is supersticion, a scrupulositie of holinesse, which honoureth the Hea­uenly power not as it ought, either a vaine and a foolish honour of God: than which vice impietie towardes God and the contempte of reuerente dreade is surely a more detestable mischiefe: by which all faith is turned vpside downe, by which periury, by which Sacrilegies are established.

Of Godlynesse. Cap. xix.

IN the seconde place Pietie is re­hersed of Cicero, which although it be defined some whiles of him, a Iustice towardes the Goddes that it should be the same whiche Religion is: yet most commonly it is taken for Iu­stice towardes our progenitours, or els for a thankefull good wil towardes our Parentes. But in his bookes of Rhe­torike, Pietie is more absolutely defi­ [...]ed, through which duetie, and an ear­nest reuerence is geuen vnto Aliaunce, and to them which are well willinge to theyr countrey. And in like sort in an­other place. Pietie is, which geueth in charge to obserue duetie towardes our countrie, our parents and others our kynsefolke. This laste vertue is well coupled to Religion, because the cheifest worship is to be geuen to God, the next to the Parentes, and next of kinne, and especially to the countrey, whiche one, Cicero saieth comprehendeth all chari­tie. Impiety is a contrary vice to God­linesse, [Page] towards such to whom beneuo­lence and loue is due. Against this so detestable a wickednesse, when as yet the title of murder was vnknowen, it was not necessary to establish a lawe: but afterwards when they began, who violatyng the law of nature, and more brutish than brute beasts, did murther & despoyle them of whom they had recei­ued life, a most rigorous law was rati­fied, of which declaration is made in the digestes vnder the title, Ad L. Pom­peiam, de patricidus.

Of Reuerence. Cap. xx.

REuerence is, by which we honoure and worship thē who excel vs in age, either in wisdome, either in dig­nity, or in any estimaciō. For that God him selfe geueth in com­maundment by the law of nature, that with due obeysaunce and honoure we should reuerence our parentes and the Magistrates whom he woulde to rule [Page] ouer vs. This vertue of obedience is so necessary, that withoute it neither a house, neither a Citie, nor any fellow­ship can remaine. How pernicious the vice repugnaunte to obedience is, the gréeuous ruine of the first parentes of al mankind, which hath tormented eue­ry mothers Sonne, hath geuen a lesson to vs. This enormitye springeth of Pride, and arrogancye and of [...] through which any mā by ouerweening in him selfe to well, and fauouringe his person, maketh him self another cousin to God almighty. Nothinge verely is more odious than pride both to God and men. For at all seasons, as the Latin Tragical writer recordeth, Sequitur su­perbos vltor a tergo Deus, God that ta­keth vengeaunce foloweth the lofty be­hinde their backes. The fal of wicked Angels whiche cannot be repaired, and than the which none hath bin more gre­uous at any time doth witnes the same.

Of Trouth. Cap. xxi.

TRouth is (saieth Cicero) throughe whiche those thinges are sayde to be vnchaunged whiche are, or haue been, or els are aboute to come: Either a right perfection of the minde wherby any man both telleth the truthe, either in affyrmyng, or els in deniyng, and al­so pretendeth no subteltie: whereof he may be called a true speaker. It is a ne­cessarie vertue to make bargaynes, in whom faith ought to beare rule, which is defined, a constancie and a soothe of sayinges and doynges: neither is truth any other thinge in contractes and ac­comptes, than faith: whiche if it be dili­gently obserued, the proper office of duetie shalbe fulfilled: which is to yelde vnto euery man his owne. A lie is a vice contrarie to veritie, & in like ma­ner the malicious inuencions of So­phismes, and all deceipte and dissimula­cion and counterfaityng, and also arro­gancie. [Page] A forged deuise is mischeuous and pernicious vnto the cōmon wealth for it wresteth a man from God which is true, and the welspryng of al verity, and purchaseth him freendship with the Deuill, and bringeth euerlastyng death to the soule: and violateth humaine so­cietie with a false Merchaundise, and incenseth hatreds and discordes through a leasyng tongue. That bostinge, espe­cially foolish of some that are too glori­ous in their owne estate, is irkesome to the learned. Certes an alteration to be abandoned. Clokyng also is vnseemely for an honest man, who speaketh no o­therwise then he thinketh: he doth not commend him in presence, whom he disprayseth in absence: he counterfai­teth and worketh wilily not with male ingine, but wittily, if neede shoulde en­force.

Of Reuengement. Cap. xxij.

REuengement is (saith Cicero) by whiche violence, and iniurie, and [Page] whatsoeuer at any time is like to dis­commodite, may be repelled by defen­ding or auengyng. And it is defined a taking of punishment, by which we put of from vs a dispight either by shunning hit, or by repaying the like. But this latter definition for this cause appea­reth to vs littel commodious, because it conteineth priuate reuengement, like­wise alowed of him in his first booke of Deuties: whiche wee know to be re­proued not only of Christians, but also of prophane Philosophers, and ignorāt of our Religion, who imitatynge the rule of nature did iudge it better to suf­fer, than to commit iniurie: because that may be done iustly, and this can­not be accomplished without iniustice, as Aristotle also learneth in his .v. booke of Ethikes. That likewise may be at­tributed to pacience, doubtlesse an ex­cellent vertue: this perdie to the con­trarie vice. Neither truly ought any man to thinke that any other talke is ministred, than that he may repel force by force, if it may not be eschewed: and that for to defend, not to damage or els [Page] to reuenge: for a minde to discommo­dite breaketh iustice the leiful reuenge­ment is committed of God vnto the Magistrates, which be the ministers of lawes: but withholden from priuate persons, vnto whom no title of puni­shinge is attributed.

Of Thanke. Cap. xxiij.

THanke whiche vsually is called gratitudo, kinde­nesse, is (saieth Cicero) in whiche the memorie of the frendshippes and frendly tournes of ano­ther man, and a good will to repay an­other is comprehended. The same man telleth: Thanke is which ought to vse obseruaunce in the remembrance and recompence of duties, and honours, and frendships. It is more compendiously descriued, A faithful memory of a thankfull minde, Or els a desier mindefull to doo one good turne and pleasure for another: and perhaps it is defined more [Page] fitly: by reason this vertue is conuer­sant in receauynge, rather than in ge­uynge. For to geue, is a pointe of libe­ralitie: To receyue with a good will, and to be willinge to repay, is the pro­pertie of thanke. It is his parte to for­get the benefit bestowed, nor to wayte for a recompence. And to this man it belongeth to remember hit, and wher oportunitie geueth occasion with an o­uerplus also, if he may, and he ought to thinke the reward wel to be placed, and to be willyng to render the same redily and yet to retayne a perpetual reporte of the pleasure exhibited. On bothe the partes héede is to be taken that the thing which either is geuen, or restored be profitable and commodious for him to whom it is geuen or restored, and iust fully gotten, lesse we should be libe­ral and grateful on another mās purse.

The vice repugnant to kindenesse is commonly termed ingratitude: which may be defined, a forgetfulnesse of a good turne receyued: and either an vn­willyng thanke, or none, or els (whiche is worst of all) a displeasure requited: [Page] whiche is the cheefest iniustice, than whiche nothyng can be more hateful to all men.

Of Compassion. Cap. xxiiij.

COmpassion, a moste ac­ceptable vertue to God, is thought good aptely to be annected vnto these. For as we do owe Loue, truth and faith to al men godlinesse to few, reuengement to such as do wrong, kindenesse to them as de­serue wel, so are we bounde to shewe mercie vnto them which suffer afflicti­ons. I cal not compassion verily in this place. Agritudinem a heauinesse, or els as Seneca, a vice of the mindes ouer muche fauouringe wretchednesse, but a vertue through which the mind is pric­ked with the miseries and calamities of another man to succour the oppressed.

Compassion is defined of Cicero, a greef through anothers aduersity: Of Sene­ca in his bookes De Clemencia, a smart [Page] of the minde, or els a sorowfulnesse con­ [...]eyued by other mens harmes, whiche [...]e déemeth to chance to y e vndeseruing. [...]ut he indeuoreth to prooue that this is [...]vice in these wordes: Then the wise [...]an shal not haue compassion but shall [...]de, but shall profite borne for a com­ [...]on helpe, and a publike vtility, wher­ [...]f he shal reache a porcion vnto euerye [...]ne. Yet we, as it is declared, do vn­ [...]erstande compassion a vertue, vnto which Christe encourageth vs after the example of his heauenly father, and his [...]wne in the .6. of Luke, which can be re­ [...]owned sufficiently with no praises at any season: and truely is highly com­mended to vs in holy Scriptures. For what earthly wight can at the least con­ceyue in minde, much lesse depaint in o­racion the infinite mercy of God the fa­ther, and Christe our Sauiour? This vertue exalteth a manne to blessed­nes. Christ calleth the merciful Beatos, blessed, because they shal receyue mer­cy, in the .5.9. & .12. of Mathew, of whom Cap. 25. six duties of mercy breefely are propounded.

Of liberality, and vices con­trary to this, Auarice and Prodigality. Cap. xxv.

CIcero in his first booke of offices maketh liberality the other braunch of Iu­stice, the which same he termeth both bountiful­nes, & also benignity, the which seemeth not vnhandesomly in this place to bée annected to the former parts of Iustice. For althoughe this vertue is placed in geuing, not as they in restoring what is due (whiche same seemeth to be proper vnto Iustice) yet because it spreadeth a­brode her selfe vnto others, as Iustice doth, eke considereth the vtility of men, it shal be leiful to situate it amonge the members of Iustice. Liberality may be defined, a beneficiall good will to gra­tify, or els a liberal desire to merite wel of som person. This is conuersaunte (as Cicero telleth) in the vse of Money, the which to bestowe honestly, and as it [Page] oughte with a frée and godly minde, is proper to liberality. For firste of all a franke consent of the geuer is required, lesse throughe an opinion of profite the mind be restreigned from doing good.

Therfore we muste geue, by reason we knowe it to be acceptable vnto God, waiting for no rewarde. We muste deale wittely when the cause and time shall postulate, to him on whom the gift is worthely bestowed, which wil not a­buse the same vnto destruction, either his owne, or els of others: and we must geue part of our proper goods, not of an­other mans. For liberality oughte to discommodity no man, but profit them as are worthye of a benefite: And we must geue according to the worthinesse of eche one, and deserte, and rather to a needy creature, than a rich Carle: not as much as perchaunce thou wouldest, but so muche as thou maist, least liberalitie turne into the vice of outragious spen­dinge, and thou afterwardes beginne to want, and be troblesom to thy friends: and lose pleasure, who is the companion of vertue, and contrarywise reteyne so­row [Page] the leaguefellow of viciousnes. And albeit riche men can with lesse trauaile perfourm the duty of liberality, yet the lesse hability may also become liberall: whose bountious good wil ought more to be considered, than the benefite it selfe. Cicero in his second booke of duties doth ratify two sortes of liberality. One through which any man succoureth him who néedeth with Argente: The other by which he aideth with trauel or coun­sel. There be two vices vnlike to libe­rality, couetousnes and niggardship, and prodigality and riotousnes: of which she is the defecte of liberality, but this y e ex­cesse, bexwixt which vices liberalitie is situated. Auarice is defined, a superfluus gredinesse of money, which being cold­ded together carefully for their auaile y e vnsaciable persons do pleasure neither [...]hemselues nor others: which very wel [...]s termed in the sanctified Scriptures, Omnium malorum radix, the roote of al mischiefes, out of whiche, felonies, rob­beries, despoilinges, deceipts, bewray­inges, discords, hurly burlyes do spring. Et quid non mortalia pectora cogis auri [Page] sacrafames? and what doost not thou de­testable hunger of gold enforce mennes harts to do? The desire of mony is vn­saciable, and a cruell Dropsy: of whom the more that the waters are supped vp the more they are thristed for, Nam crescit amor numini quantum ipsa pe­cunia crescit, for the loue of money in­creaseth, as muche as money her selfe doth increase. This bondage is altoge­ther moste wretched, and most vile, al­waies carefull, at all times fearfull, ne­uer quiet, at no time content. Contrary to the vice of Auarice is excesse whiche commonly they term prodigality: which same likewise is a vice, and resisteth li­berality. For as the couetous man is ouer gredy in receyuing and reteyning, so contrary wise the prodigall person passeth a meane in geuinge. Therfore prodigality may be defined, an immo­derate largesse, and committed vpon no iust cause. This perdy is vicious, yet may be reuoked more easely vnto libe­rality, than auarice: by reason she is ac­customed to profit others, this no man, and not so much truely the very posses­ [...]our: [Page] vnto this oftimes youth is hurtful to the other old age. Moderate expence in like manner, as liberalitie is pla­ced betweene two vices, vnmeasurable riot & couetousnesse. Herehence a pinch­peny, or els a thrifty felowe, neither is called prodigall, nor yet a niggard.

Sauing is defyned, a diligent laying vp of those thinges which are gotten, and a guidinge of expenses. Wherof there springes a Prouerbe, Magnum Vecti­gal parsimonia, Sparinge is a greate reuenew.

Of Magnificence. Cap. xxvi.

MAgnificence seemeth to be vnited to liberalitie, which is no other thyng, than a certaone larger bountuousnesse, whiche is defined of Cicero, an handlyng or ad­ministration of great & excellent mat­ [...]ers with a certaine honourable, & fa­ [...]us intent: Herehence cōmeth a sump­ [...]uous a notable man, & he who worketh [Page] wounderous feates. This vertue is not belonging vnto poore men, whiche can not performe mightie and miraculous matters, but vnto rich men, as to kings and Princes: of whome yet it is to be taken heede of, that they be not incensed more through the desier of vayne glory than vertue, neither principally regar­ding the good will of God, nor passynge for the commoditie of men, lesse they wade beyonde measure with their cost and administracion in enterprising gor­gious actes. For also there be two vices repugnant to this vertue, the one which is called [...], a worke of a base courage: and a beggerly magnificence, whiche is of kinne to auarice: the other [...] that is to wit an vnruly sump­tuousnesse, & riot, which accordeth with prodigalitie.

Of Freendship. Cap. xxvij.

AMonge the parts of Iustice, Freendship also is to be nū ­bred: wherof sith Aristotle, and after him Cicero copi­ously [Page] haue disputed, we will here breif­ly touche those thinges which appeare necessarie. Therfore, as Cicero telleth, in his first booke De Legibus, all the force of Freendship is in the agréement of willes, studies and opinions: and in Laelius: Freendship (sayth he) is no o­ther thyng than a perfecte accorde of all diuine and humain affayres, with bene­uolence and fauour: whiche he calleth the ayde of vertues geuen of Nature, not a companion of vices: And the same nominated of loue, and begunne of Na­tute her selfe: That wee may vnder­stande loue to be naturall, by whiche men are vnited together amonge them [...]elues. And because (as also wee haue knowen by y e holy scriptures, by which the lawe of nature is approued in this cause) one man oweth good wil and loue [...]o another, whereas also al other liuing Creatures may appeare to mayntayne freendship in their kind, or els surely to preserue beneuolence: it can not bee [...]oubted, but that fréendeship is to be re­ [...]erred vnto Iustice, which also is verie [...]ecessary for the vse of life, and contey­neth [Page] the common wealth. What be­neuolence doth differ from friendship. Aristotle teacheth in the .v Chapiter of his .ix. booke that also we may be vnited in good wil with them, whom we do not know, and that the same may be secret, that it cannot be freendeship: and that beneuolence is the Original and Foun­taine of amity. By whose Sentence freendship is thus defyned. That it be an euident beneuolence. Freendship is double. One true and sincere, and proceeding of vertue, which is emonge good men. The other forged, and vulger which is two folde, for either it is pro­cured throughe profit, or els throughe good will. The end than of true freend­ship is, Honestie, of the counterfayted, profite or pleasure. Pleasure ioigneth together children and young folkes.

Profite yoketh together marchauntes and suche like: but vertue bindeth good men, who be friendes indeede, and also do persist after death, but they loue for a time. True frendship than because it ariseth out of vertue, can not be e­monge wicked persones, as betwixt [...] [Page] theeues, robbers, spoylers, traitours, conspiratours: albeit somewhiles they may appeare fettered together with a moste straighte bonde, neither also is it sure inoughe amonge them, who are e­qual neither in maners, nor in exercise, nor in wil nor in opinions, nor in riches (althoughe these do not alwaies hinder amity, like as nether the age) nor yet in statelines. Emong Princes and their fréends the glosing of certain Courtiers doth welnie extinguishe amitie, appro­uinge all matters of their gouernours, both sayings and doinges although they be foolish, whiles they get gaine, promo­tion, and fauour. The freendship then amonge equals is stronger, & more sin­cere, vnited together through consent of mindes, both willinge and nillinge, one thinge, whom also a like study doth de­lite. But this freendeship cannot be be­twixt many: that narrow bonde is ap­pertaining to few: what manner of one wee reade to haue flourished emongste them, of whiche scarcelye foure or fiue partes are reckened, and perhappes it should be a difficult matter to trace out [Page] more, of whom truly it may be verified Amicus alter idem, a fréende an other same, or one as like as it were the selfe same person, of which two there ought to be one minde. Although verily good men often times haue many fréendes, and wish wel vnto those, of whom they thē selues likewise are entirely beloued yet they communicate that cheefest con­sent of minds and good wils, and studies onely with one or two, or els surely w t very few. That true friendship is very seldome, what one was betwixte those fewe copartners of vnfained fréendes, and so many times renowned. Because perdie fréendship issueth of loue, and the degrees of Loue are diuers, likewise more degrees of fréendship are to be ap­pointed. Of which the firste is, of Pa­rents, and Children: the second, of bro­thers and Kinsfolke, the third of benefi­cial persons and Citizens: the last of all men. Yet somewhiles that sincere friendship which is of a fewe, doth farre exceede al the amities of al men, yea of the very parentes & children, what loue that was betwixt Pylades and Orestes, D [...] ­mon [Page] and Pythias: concernynge whome reade Valerius Maximus the .iiii. booke and vii. Chapiter. This true friendship surely is not sodainly made perfect, but she hath her degrees: tyll at lengthe through longe vse of loue sittinge in the secret Cabane of the hart, and through greate acquaintaunce, and amiable fel­lowshippe it be confirmed. Wherfore they say that he is to be elected, whom thou wilt loue: geuing to wit thereby, that we entertaine not any one hastily into freendship without election, whom afterwardes we may forsake with like foolehardines for a trifle, lesse we apere rather with a certaine rage of loue, then with good aduise to haue ben broughte vnto freendship. That such a vice may be eschewed, we oughte to be slowe to ioigne in amity, and constant to reteine it. Therfore all these thinges are to be taken heede of, which are wont to wea­ken freendships: as contentions, bitter brawlinges, despites, waywardnesse, wrath, enuy, emulacion, and such like.

But to admonish without sharpnesse, and to bee admonished, is proper to [Page] friendshippe. Neither truly is it to be thought, that those friendes any where be found among men, which althoughe there be one like consente of willes and studies for the most part) may not some whiles seme to be put in remēbraunce, if they shall any whit offend: and also it ought to be denied these, if they aske any thinge, which can not be accomplished honestly and godly. For honest matters are to be requested of friendes, and ho­nest causes are to be don for the friends sake. Rather perdy then being desired we should committe filthy thinges, we shall permit the friendship, which pre­sentely ceaseth to be true, by litle and litle throughe slacknesse of vse to be mi­nished, and to vanish away. For that which is sodainely broken of, appeareth neuer to haue ben true. But yet this same seperacion is to be auoyded as much as may be. For neither must a­ny man so loue, as though somtimes he should be at a defiaunce. Harty loue that whiche the sacred Scriptures do approue, commendeth perfecte friend­ship, by which we are willed to loue our [Page] neighbour no lesse than our selues. There ought then to be an indifferent beneuolence of eche others mind. Nei­ther is it to be required, that the one shoulde more fancy the other than him selfe. And of frendship surely hether­to. Enmite resistethe this, the moste greeuous plague of humayn kinde, and which maketh men worse then beasts, and despoileth them of all humanitie.

For a man ought to be deare vnto a man, sith he may see beastes of one sort to be coupled together amonge them­selues. And as friendship maketh men courteous and gratefull, so doth hatred cause them cruel and odious: and as she doth very much recreate the sprites, so is this not a litle troublesome bothe to her self, and others, & the cause of many mischiefes. Herehence spryng slaugh­ters, herehence proceede Murthers, herehence commeth all crueltie. For whom any man hateth, he wisheth de­stroyed, and the caytife doth wofully crucifie himselfe through a lust to re­uenge, and a desier to hurt, the mynde a tormentour brandisshynge a secret [Page] whip, as Iuuenall saith: where as in holy Scriptures it is manifest, Homi­cidam esse quisquis fratrem suū oderit: That be is a man killer, whosoeuer shal hate his brother. Wherefore all enmi­tie is to be auoyded, cake diligently it is to be taken heede, that wee minister not a cause of contempt to any man and if an occasion be geuen, it is to be labou­red by all possibilitie that he be reconci­led to vs, who was estraunged or fallen from vs. If so be that by chaunce wee shall hate any one, who may seeme to haue iniured vs, yet we ought to beare in minde that wee are Christians, that wee forgeue, and put away anger and hatred, waytyng for the like facilitie of remission at Gods hand, which so many times wee haue experimented. No ho­stilitie truly is more greeuous, than battel: no greater alienation, and sepe­racion of mindes, none more pernicious none more fierse, and through whiche more may breake forth violently with more bitter hatreds into mutuall de­struction, and so furiously somewhiles may be incensed that not only Citizens [Page] but also very brothers and kinsemen are brought in contencious turmoyles among themselues, fighting for life and death, ignorant of their aliaunce, infla­med with common madnesse, and now puttyng aparte al humanitie clad them selues with the crueltie of beastes. And albeit battell of it selfe, neither ought properly to be sayde good, nor euill, sith it may iustly be vsed, and ought also ne­cessarily to be taken in hand somtimes, especially if it be attempted in suche sorte vpon lawfull occasion, that it be a defence of Iustice, & be referred to that parte whiche is termed Vindicatio, re­uengement: Yet whereas the conten­tion of bothe enemies may not be a like iustfull, it appeareth not that any battel can be executed, vnto whom on the one parte Iniustice may not be annected.

Wherefore it is not to be enterprised rashly of potentates to whom the title of Warfare is committed, nor yet, vn­lesse for a right and a necessarie cause: as if the thinges vniustfully taken from vs should be fetched agayne, if iniurie were to be wreaked, or violence to be [Page] repressed: let it be proclaymed, and let it be referred vnto that ende, that no­thyng els appeare to haue been mente through battel, than peace sought for, or enquired. Wee must cheifly beware, as much as may be, that we wax not cruel toward innocentes, and the feble sorte, and suppliaunt people: that all thinges be not wasted with sworde and fier: That more damage be not doone to our friendes, than to our enemies: That battell be not wittingly and greedely taken in hande, which cannot be perpe­trated without crueltie. There be also other vices contrarie to friendship, as testifnesse of minde, as Flattery a gree­uous pestilence to amitie, vnmeete for a liberall disposicion, not muche hurtfull and daungerous to the wary, and to the glorious and simple, because it is a pri­uie enmitie, whiche disprofiteth with a flatteryng grace, seruily commendinge him who is present, and wrongfully car­ping and deridyng him which is absent: whom Terence doth elegantly & feate­ly set out in colours in the seconde Acte and seconde Scene in Eunuchus. Vnto [Page] [...]oth is flatterie alike miserable, both vnto him whiche speaketh al thinges for anothers pleasure, & also to him whiche admitteth this ill fauored sugred spéech of one that vpholdeth his yea and nay in euery cause: but that he is a moste vile bondeslaue, and this a Nodgecocke, who perceiueth not him selfe to be a laughing stocke. And of Iustice, and of her braunches sufficiently it is re [...]oned.

Of Iniustice. Cap. xxviij.

INiustice is contra­rie to Iustice, which beynge adioygned perdy to al y e partes of Iustice, now shal bee debated some­what more at large

As Iustice yeldeth to euery man his owne, so dothe Iniustice hale vnto her selfe, what is due vnto others. And as before we haue diuided Iustice, so shall it be leifull, also to seuour Iniustice.

First and formoste into common and [Page] priuate, and this into distributinge and chaunging: Secondly, as we haue tolde the partes of Iustice, religion, godlynes and others: so may the members of in­iustice be repeted supersticion, impie­ty, and moe which briefly we haue des­criued: Only in presence we wil make manifest the percels and common and priuate wronge. Common Iniustice compriseth two formes: One which re­sisteth ordinaunce: the other whiche repungneth equitie: the lawes are vio­lated, when as either through niggard­lines, or the contempt of men, or els for som other occasion holsom decrees, and statutes are inuerted, or abrogated, or vnrightfulye wrested, and weakened with counterfet interpretacions.

Equity is defiled, when as not onely the wordes of law are recited and wri­thed subtilly, but the vnderstandinge and euennesse the very soule of the law is neglected, and the Prouerb winneth place Sumū ius, summa iniuria, extreme law, extreme wrong: as if the Iudges, or Lawyers shoulde be corrupted with gifts, or distempered w t the affections of [Page] loue or hatred. These matters also are debated of Rhetoricians in the Chapi­ter De statu scripti et voluntatis. There are two parts of priuate iustice: against whome likewise two maye be layde. [...]niustè distribuens and iniustè commu­ [...]ns, wrongfully distributinge and vn­ [...]ustly exchaunging. Wrongfully distri­buting doth fauour the wicked, doth not defend the good, them she exalteth, these she presseth downe: she preferreth flat­terers and lewde personnes before the simple and honest: she more estéemeth nobility and riches, than vertue and sa­pience. Vniustly exchaunging doth not restore what is due, she deceiueth them with whom she ioigneth in byinge, sel­ling, and in concluding other contractes especially in guage and confederacie: she deuiseth titles of possessions: she ta­keth pleasure by long practise in things procured by couine: she trauaileth to [...]minish common and publike commo­ [...]ies, and out of these to adde somwhat her selfe: To conclude, she leaueth [...]t vnto euery man his owne. Doubt­ [...]e of all these partes of Iniustice In­iurie [Page] is the mother, which is don, either to the common wealth, or els to al men, either in violatinge the lawes, or els ei­ther in distributinge, or exchaunginge vniustly.

Of Fortitude. Cap. xxix.

WE haue disputed of wis­dome and Iustice: it en­sueth that mencion bee made of Fortitude. For­titude may be defined. A custome, or els an af­fection of the minde, whiche taketh in hande premeditated daungers, and la­boures, and susteineth what euer incō ­modities do chaunce, repelling timidi­ty and anger. Of Cicero it is defined an affection of the minde, pacient in ad­uenturinge peril, and in trauell and so­row whose principall duties he wil that there be two, a contempte of death and sorow: because all valiante courage is tried, either in wofulnesse, or in labour, or in daunger, and in the vndertakinge and putting to flight of dreadefull mat­ters. [Page] The Stoikes define Fortitude, a vertue contending for equity. Chrisippus an affection of the minde, in sufferinge and susteyning, yelding vnto extreame law without feare. Manly courage sée­meth to bee ingendred partely of will, partly of the faculty of the angry soule, because the operacion of Fortitude re­quireth some commocion hereof: who notwithstanding her selfe is voluntary and is busied in the suffering of sorow, and in aduenturing of perilles: and the will ought to rule, but that rage ought to be obeysant vnto desire and counsell. Fortitude is conuersant in restreining of fearefull matters, both causing timi­ [...]itie of som daunger aboute to hurt, and also the expectation of perill, as it were in the matter wherin she is exercised, whether it be in Marcial prowes, or els in Domestical troubles, that at last she may obtaine that vtterest good: This vertu (as likewise the residew) is a me­diocrity betwixte ouermuch and to litle that is to witte, betweene timidity and boldnesse, whiche vices after what fa­shion they may be eschewed. Horace ex­poundeth in these Verses.

In neede appere stoute and stronge: be thou vvise
To shrinke in thy sayles beginning to rise.

The dutie of Fortitude is double, to aduenture, and to sustaine daungers & aduersities with that minde y t it maye content God, and obay his commaunde­ments, for whose sake all things ought to be done, and doubtlesse to enter on them, and to abide them not only coura­giously and manfully, but also prudētly is the parte of a valiant man: for ney­ther should he take in hande any thynge vnaduisedly and harebraynly, and with no consideration, lesse he may seem ra­ther to be allured with violent moode, than with perfect reason. Vnto Forti­tude true and sincere, & adorned with o­ther vertues. Aristotle hath annected in his thirde booke Ad Nicomachū other fiue fourmes not absolute, yet as of kinne. The first of Citizens fighting for their countrie: The seconde of Souldi­ours [Page] who by Marciall policie do aduen­ture perils: the thirde of them whiche trust vnto experience: the fourthe of them which trauell through an hope to winne: the fifte of such as haue al their affiaunce in Fortune, neither sufficiēt­ly examininge the daungers, whom ig­norance causeth sturdie. Verely it is no lesse the parte of Fortitude to suffer ca­lamitie, to susteine iniurie, to bridell the moodes of minde with an vpright and constant courage, than to hazarde the life, to contempne death, and doubt­lesse with harte and will to die, if so he shall purpose to please God. And be­cause Fortitude is conuersant either in the receiuyng of daungers, or els in the enduring: vnto this vertue foure four­mes are subnected, Confidence & mag­naminitie whiche perteine vnto recei­ [...]ing. Pacience and Perseuerance who [...]e referred vnto enduring: The two [...]t belonge as it were to the first mo­ [...]n of Fortitude, the latter to the suf­ [...]ance, and stablenesse and constancie of euils. Of all these perfect manlinesse doth consist.

Of Confidence and Magna­nimitie. Cap. xxx.

COnfidence (saith Cicero) is a sure trust of minde: either by which y e minde hath planted in her selfe much beleif in weightie and honest matters, with a sure hope. And vnto this Boldenesse appeareth to be of aliance, and yet it is a vice: sith it is led not with counsell and iudgement, as Fortitude, vnto whom Prudency is a perpetuall companion, but with vio­lence and temeritie: not taking suffici­ent aduise, before it geue the assaulte on daungers, whether it may ouercome: and how it may, and whether it be ho­nest to vndertake the same. But confi­dence doth not aduenture ieoperdies stoutely and with a great trust, vnlesse diligently premeditated afore. For they are not to be iudged stronge men who dare to aduenture lesse, but they which commonstrate a moderate vertue of minde, whom reason ought to rule, and [Page] make agreeable to vertue. Contarie to confidence is mistrust, a lowe abash­mente of the minde, the same which dis­peire is, which aboue we haue compen­diously touched in the chapiter of desire and hope. Magnanimity is an ample­nesse of a noble, and an vnconquerable stomacke, and a might and stoutnesse to commit valiaunt actes. This suppor­teth confidence, and as an helper dothe fortify her being of kinne. Vnderstand you a noble corage, not a proud, neither an arrogant, but a modest, and keepinge vnder foote insolencye, very noble, and contemninge worldely vanities. For this vertue is principallye tryed in the contempte both of those great matters whiche the gréedy common people hath in wonderfull admiration: and also in the repressing of perturbations, that all ambicion, niggardlinesse, and concupis­cence may be resisted with a triūphing courage, that al aduersities may be con­stantely endured. Cicero in his firste booke of duties, doth teache that there are two partes of the greatnesse of cou­rage; of the whiche one is tried in pros­perity, [Page] the other in aduersity: because neither tribulation is of strength to dis­courage a noble stomack, nor the riches of fortune of power to make him presū ­tuous. Contrary vnto Magnanimitie be two vices, [...] superfluous hau­tines, either a proud and swelling mind: and [...], a want or defect of cou­rage. In the first vice is conteyned an auaunting, extolling it selfe insolentely and foolyshly, and a minde strouting out vnwisely: what one is of Thraso in Te­rence a vaine and peeuish personne, and blind with ouermuch loue of him selfe, than which nothing can be excogitated more foolish, whome no good and modest man may be able to abide. This sect of companions is odious vnto all sortes, saue only vnto parasites. Repugnant to this vice is that other which is called Demissio animi, lacke of corage, vsually tearmed Pusillanimitas cowardise, that is to say, a foule and an vnseemely faint­nes of courage, fléeing imminent daun­ger, and vilainously languishing in large and wonderful exploits, what one hath béene of Effemynate personnes, as of [Page] Sardanapalus, who verelye not resistinge, bannished from his Empire, concluded hs owne destruction through a preuen­ted despeire: as of Heliogabalus, as of o­thers, who beinge enfeebled with plea­sures haue led a slouthfull and a beastly life. To them which wente afore may be adioyned, a desire of good estimacion, of which in like manner theare are two vices: the one inordinate sute, the other a contempt of Fame and reputacion.

Of Pacience and Perseue­raunce. Cap. xxxi.

PAcience Cicero defineth, a vo­luntary, and a longe permissi­on of hard and difficulte mat­ters for honesties sake or pro­fite: that is to witte, a stable and a con­stante sufferaunce of humian thynges, through which wée sustaine what euer aduersity shall chaunce vnto vs with a pacient minde. He called it voluntary, because this vertue, as also Magnani­mity, is situated in will, which that an­gry [Page] faculty of the Soule doth helpe.

That it is added of him, for honesties sake: hee propoundeth the ende of this vertue, which also is apperteining vnto all the rest. For if laboures be sustey­ned not for Vertue, but either by reasō of hatred, or riches, or honoures, he ter­meth it an horrible asperity, which imi­tateth pacience. But of vs at al seasons y e marke is to be appointed, y t our doing please God, vnto whom vertue is accep­table. The charge of pacience is dou­ble: One in abidyng Iniuries receiued: The other in suffringe all casualities of Fortune with an vpright minde. Hee ouercommeth who beareth Iniury, by reason bothe he vanquisheth him selfe, and his aduersary, sithe he repelleth the affection: Hee is broughte in bondage, who doth iniury, because he yeeldeth vn­to affections, and is surmounted of an­ger and gréedinesse. He is iust, this fel­lowe vniuste. It is the parte then of a paciēt man, both to conquere iniury by contemninge, and not to take reuenge­ment of it to him selfe, but to commit it vnto God, vnto whom it belongeth to [Page] chastice Iniquities, and to receiue all chaunce with an egall minde, to endure pouerty, bannishment, barrennes, wée­ping, and wailing, reproche, despite, ser­uitude, gréeuous diseases, blindnes, and if any thing also be more wretched; ne­uer to despeire, neuer to be discouraged through calamities. For whereas the life of man is ful of miseries, and distres­ses, who had not some whiles rather to leaue his life (as, certaine cursed Imphs & dastardes haue dun) eake at one time to close vp all his cares, then alwaies to leade a peineful life: except he being Haruaised with the brest plate of paci­ence, would valiauntly gaineset a redy and an vnuincible courage to abide all thinges to the ende, and would recken any life well to be passed ouer, vertue being his guide? Som haue falsly suppo­sed them to be strong, who in desperate cases haue wilfully murthered them selues, eschewing either beggery, or ig­nominy, or captiuity, or bondage, or not sustaining loue, or els auoydinge any o­ther calamity: whome Aristotle more rightfully iudged to be nise and woman­nish: [Page] sithens it is the guise of a stedfast and a valiaunt person to take any For­tune in good worth: but the property of a timorous and a sluggish to mistruste, and to be dismaide with laboures, and shamefully to faint in courage. Impa­cience may be saide a vice repugnaunt to pacience, an eschewinge of an honest peine and sorrowe: whose nature it is not a perplexed matter to vnderstande by those things which presently are de­clared. There are some vnsufferable who feare trauels, others who flee wo­fullnesse: and thinke them intollerable which paciēce learneth to be sustained.

They do yeelde vnto turmoiles, these are crucified with passions, and cares, & do abide iniury hardly and gréeuously.

There be some likewise who are not able moderatly inough to vse their pros­perity, whose mindes are to much puf­fed vp with the insolencie of their good estate: as muche to be discommended as they, because it is a thing, no lesse vn­séemely to be discomfited, then péeuish­ly to triumphe. Perseueraunce is de­fined of Cicero, a stable, and a perpetu­all [Page] abode in reason vprightly examined.

This is a faithfull companion for paci­ence, and an ayde in bearing aduersity, and in moderatinge prosperity with e­qualitie, and in brideling all the surges of the mind, and bringing them in sub­iection to the discourse of reason. For a puissaunt stomacke, as he saieth, with­out constancie and honest moderacion of minde, is nothing worth, waueringe or lightnesse and an vnstable gouermēt of humaine affaires is a Vice contrary vnto perseueraunce: which either for a womanlines of mind doth vnaduisedly geue place vnto difficulties, nor is of ef­ficacie to endure vexacions: or elles by reason of an obstinacie continueth in his opinion arrogantely and stubburnely, which reason cōmaundeth to chaunge.

Of the Vyces betvveene vvhich Fortitude is placed. Cap. xxxij.

FOrtitude is the meane be­twixt two vices, boldnes and timidity. Boldnesse is an vn­aduised enterprise of perils, or els a rashe confidence, by which any man not paysing his hability dothe aduenture daunger with a blinde inuasion, either through the ignoraunce of the difficulty, or through the loftines of stomacke and desire of renowne, or through dispaire, or els doutles through a dastardlinesse and madnes ransacking the mind. This vice is farre dissonant from Fortitude, because it geueth not reason and counsell. This also is repo­sed aboue among the affections; by rea­son it stirreth vp the rage of the minde to worke Hairebrainely and aduentu­rously. To this mischiefe the repug­naunt vice is Timidity, through which any one without occasiō is perced with terrour, and feared with any creaking, and dreadeth those thinges which are valiantly to be enterprised for vertue: A dastarde, an effeminate person, and one not able to abide honest toyle: who whiles he is ouer carefull for his life, he [Page] shunneth not shame, and disworshippe, which especially is to be auoided. Of either vice otherwise it is debated in the explicacion of affectiōs, thā in this place, in which not the affection, but a vicious property contrarious to manlinesse is to be vnderstanded.

Of Temperaunce. Cap. xxxiii.

TEmperaunce is a vertue which subdueth plesures vnto the dominiō of rea­son. The same is defined of Cicero, a firme and a temperate rule of rea­son ouer luste, and other euil braides of the minde. It is also termed a mode­ration of desires, obedient to reason: and in another place, the gouernesse of all commocions, it is conuersaunt in refu­sing of pleasures, as the same Aucthor agreeth with Plato and Aristotle. In Gréeke, [...], whiche our country­man calleth both Temperaunce, and [Page] Modestie, and also Frugalitie. For it is occupied in refraynynge delices, and desiers, as in the matter, whereof it intreateth: And because some plea­sures are naturall, and common to all liuynge creatures: others consisting in opinion: and they bothe either of the minde or of the body: of which some are good, whiche are referred vnto a good ende: others vicious, whiche are direc­ted to an ill: this vertu is familiar with good and honest men: it absteyneth frō the contrarie: verely it bridleth al con­cupiscencies with the iudgement of reason: whiche Seneca confirmeth in these wordes: Temperance ruleth pleasures: some it hateth and driueth a­way, with others it dispenseth, & tray­neth to an holsom fashion. By whiche wordes it is to be vnderstanded that this is a vertue very well acquainted with Prudencie. Sith than Tempe­raunce is busied in measurynge of ap­petites, her first charge is, to contem­plate, what the necessitie of nature may postulate for to passe the life com­modiously, that she may satisfie her, [Page] who is contented with few thynges, whereby the superfluous vse of thinges naturall may be eschewed, and may be reteined within the bounde of Nature, The other is, that when as now she [...]ath vnquisshed the delightes of the bo­die, she conquere also the passions of the minde strugling agaynst reason, that she keepe vnder arrogancie, that she know her selfe, that she stifely repine sensualitie, and indeuour by little and little to brynge it in seruitude to Rea­son. Thrée partes are annected of Ci­cero vnto Temperance: Continence, Clemencie, and Modestie. Of whiche the first doth gouerne Lust through the rule of Counsell: The other remitteth Hatred: The thirde preserueth honest shamefastnesse, and demurenesse, with­out whiche nothinge can be accompted [...]ight.

Of Continence and Abstinence. Cap. xxxiiij.

BEtwixt Continence and ab­stinence that appeareth pro­perly to bee the difference, that Continence doeth guide affections, and kepeth a meane in al or­der of liuing and trimming, and especi­ally (as Cicero beareth witnesse) in o­uerslippinge of pleasures: vnto whom Incontinence is repugnant. Abstinence represseth the handes from other mens goods, vnto whom Rauenie is apposite. This is in an innocent man, the in a tē ­perate: Continence is defined of him, a vertue by which the greedinesse is ruled through the gouerment of counsell. It is cōtrary to desire, to pleasure, to lust. For the charge hereof is, to moderate all appetites, lust, riotte, drunkennesse, gluttuous, deuouringe of meates, and to cause all sences and delices obedient to reason. This vertu not only maketh men commendable, & rulers of desires, but also vncorrupted, and iocant, and al­so [Page] neate to conclude verye excellent [...] matters: But contrarywise of intem­perancie growe many kindes of disea­ses, the paunche burdened with ouer­much meate and drinke, doth both pes­ter the minde and darken the reason.

But yet that scope euermore oughte to bee proposed vnto all men, that they restraine them selues therfore, because they ought to know by so doing to please God, whom they must serue, not by rea­son it aduauntageth the healthe. For if any man dothe auoyde incontinencie only for health, or els for vtilities sake, be meriteth not guardon: vnto continēce may be referred al those vertues, what­soeuer appellatiō they may haue, which do moderate pleasures, apparel, liuing, meate, drinke: which make chaste mo­dest, and sober personnes: which bridle those abhominable destructions, super­fluity, vnleyfull appetite, greedynesse, drunckennesse, and suche like, throughe which voluptuous, Lecherous, effemi­nate gourmanders, drunken men, and worse than beasts are made. Through Continence we come vnto the praise of [Page] Temperaunce. She is perdie rather an vnperfecte vertue than an absolute, as liketh Aristotle: yet very necessary for the duty of Temperaunce, a vertue fully accomplished. Celius Calcaguinus hath intituled in his inquisicions, that Ari­stotle doth declare in his Ethikes, and Plu­tarchus in his Commentarie of Morall Vertu, what difference there is betwixt the continent man and vncontynent, Temperate and vntemperate. For the Continent person contendeth with af­fections, and vanquisheth them: the vn­continent perdie doth repine, but beyng ouercommed doth lament. Contrary­wise the temperate hath no struglyng: but vseth appeased affections, as the calme Sea, whiche is tossed with no wynde. But the vntemperate without resistynge graunteth vnto perturbaci­ons, take professeth himselfe willingly consenting to all delices. The contrary vice vnto Continence, is incontinence, spreadyng abrode her braunches egally. She may be defined, An immoderate desier of pleasures, which is not gouer­ned with the Empyre of Reason: ei­ther [Page] it is a superfluous vse, and repug­nant to reason, of lust, gluttony, drunk­nesse, and other vnseemely pleasures. Nothynge is more filthy and vile than this vice, which maketh a man a bounde seruante, and despoyleth him of al liber­tie: whom it deliuereth in bondage to moste wanton rulers, as to Desiers, Lustes, Fleshfondynges, Wrathe, a­uarice, and suche other stewardes of re­proche & deformitie: as elegantly it is disputed of Cicero in his first Paradox.

Of Clemencie. Cap. xxxv.

EVen as Continence is tried in the restreigninge and mo­derating of desiers, so is Cle­mencie in the bridlyng of an­ [...]er. For there are two partes of the Soule, as before it is declared, the desi­ [...]ing, and the angry: out of which all af­ [...]ections do proceede: Clemencie is defi­ [...]ed of Cicero, through which the minds [...]naduisedly enforced to hate one, are [...]epressed with gentlenesse. Seneca [Page] alledging sundry definitions of the same Vertue sayeth, Clemencie is a tempe­rance of the mind in power to reuenge: either, a gentlenesse of the superiour to­wardes the inferiour, in ordering of pu­nishementes: either, a bendinge of the minde vnto fauourablenesse, in exaction of punishment. For it is called the same pleasantnesse, or méekenesse, and Cle­mencie, by which the braide of anger is repelled with reason, and a modesty is shewed in reuenginge, and chastising. But wisdom doth so rule her, that ney­ther all should be pardoned, nor any mā corrected. For both of them rather doth answere vnto cruelty, than Clemencie: yet notwithstāding it is better to offend in the more fréendly poynte, than in the contrary: vnlesse perhappes they who beare office in the common wealth, shal suppose an example néedeful to be prac­tised on some, whom Cicero wisheth to be like vnto y e lawes, who are trained to punish, not through anger, but equitie. It is the parte of Clemencie to searche out the causes of fauouring. Certes no priuate person oughte to feare to bende [Page] him selfe to the more Courtious parte, nether ought to deuise at any time how to requite the Iniury inferred to him: but ought to beare vnder foote the incen­singes of choler, & ought to vnderstande this to be the excellentest victory of all others, and chéefely conuenient for a Christian man. Cruelty, and fiersnesse, or els stoutnesse of the minde in reuen­ging, and punishing, is repugnaunte to Clemencie, whose companion is Bru­tishnesse: that is to wit a besticall hos­tility. Than which two vices nothing is more diuerse frō the nature of man, vnto whome appertaineth Humanitie and Clemencie: and compassion ioyned hereto with an amiable bonde, whiche maketh menne gentle and courteous: than whiche no vertue may be more ac­ceptable to God, whose mercye is vn­measurable & vnestimable. Softnesse seemeth to be of kinne to Clemencie, but it is a vice: whiche is belonginge to an [...]iotte, not to a man fauourable.

Of Modestye. Cap. xxxvi.

MOdestia, Modestie, so cal­led, because it keepeth a certaine meane and mo­deration. Cicero defi­neth it in his second boke De Inuencione, throughe whiche honest shame doth gette a worthie and a stable authority, and in his firste booke of Offi­ces, of all thinges whiche are done, and which are saide, an order and a meane, and a knowledge of an oportunity of fit seasones to accomplish a thing. The Stoykes, a Science of settinge those thinges whiche shalbe done or sayde, in their proper places. The first definition commendeth vnto vs Honest shame­fastnesse whiche Cicero termeth a cer­taine natural Timiditie, and a bashful­nesse, whiche is a certayne reuerende [...]eare towardes men: whose propertie [...]s to offende no man: as it belongeth to Iustice, to violate no man whiche is [...]efined of him in Particions Oratorye, the warde of al vertues, eschewing dis­worship, [Page] and chiefely séeking for praise.

And Aristotle calleth it a feare of re­proche & infamie. And these definitions verely seeme not to declare one certain vertue shamefastnesse, but a certaine generall vnited together with all ver­tues, whiche by another appellacion is called Decorum Comlynesse. Shame is rehersed of vs among the affections: where wee couet a sodayne commocion to be vnderstanded, through which any man is troubled vnwares: but in this place an affection limited to vertue, cō ­firmed by vse, which through the feare of reproche and infamy calleth vs backe from vices, if we acknowledge it, not as Vertue her selfe, yet verily yoked with Vertue. Diogenes named the rednesse, ingendred of this affection, Virtutis co­lorem the coloure of Vertue, declaringe that kinde of shame to proceede from a good disposicion, which yet in this place wee will to be moderate: that it bee a mediocrity, which is proper to vertues, betwixt ouermuch shame and timiditie a counterfayter of bashfulnesse and im­pudencie. Of shame a shamefaste or a [Page] bashful man is called by the title of ver­tue: vnto whom is contrarious an im­pudent, and an vnshamefast person.

This feare of dishoneste matters is commendable, and in the younger sorte it signifieth a towardnesse of Vertue, & besides the especiall ornamente of wo­men. But Impudency is a detestable Vice, by whiche the comelinesse, and all the honesty of life is neglected: and an entraunce vnto vices is opened, because they are not feared. The other defi­nitions of Cicero, which euen now wee haue putte, do sufficiently declare, what Modestie is: that there be an order, and meane conningly to be obserued of those thinges which are don, and saide, wher­by euery matter may bee excecuted in his proper place and time, & decently.

For the duty hereof is, so to asswage the troublesom moodes, that a certaine harmony of all doynges be obserued: That nothyng which is foolish, & scarce séemely, either be doone or sayde, that nothing be cōmitted couetously through Enuie, Loue, Lust, Arrogancie, Ambicion, and other vnlawfull appetites. [Page] Vnder Modestie be placed Lowlinesse of minde, a desier to learne, pleasant­nesse, either delectablenesse, or ciuilitie of talke, and furniture of body. Lowli­nesse of minde, which they call Humili­tie, is the very notable vertue of Chri­stian men: by whiche any man doth so presse downe the malipertnesse of cou­rage, that by how much the higher he is, by so muche the more lowly he shuld behaue himselfe. Christe himself would that we learne this vertue of him, who called himself meeke, and of an humble and lowe spirit: that wee likewise ac­cordyng to his example shoulde extenu­ate our goods, if there be any: whereas wée can obtaine no good thyng, whiche is not geuen vs by the will and gift of God: that there shoulde be no occasion to any man of braggyng of himself, sith euery perfect gift commeth by inspira­tion from God the Father, who lighte­neth the mindes of men, through Iesus Christe our Sauiour, through whome men haue receiued perfect wisdom au­thorised by the benefite of y e holy ghost. Therefore this vertue teacheth that [Page] especially, which in times past was said to fall downe from Heauen Nosce te ipsū, know thy self: that no man perdy shuld attribute ouermuch to himself, sithens he hath nothyng, whiche he hath not re­ceiued. This also is the charge of a pru­dent person whereby you shall vnder­stande Modestie and Temperance at al seasons to be very straightly ioyned to Prudencie: wherof also she is tearmed of the Greekes [...], as it were the Fortresse of wisdome. The contrary vice is arrogancie, throughe which any man blinded with the loue of him selfe, faineth many notable thinges to bee in him, which are not in him, and greater than may be in him: either an insolent and vayne bostinge, and wantynge the iudgement of the minde. This vice of foolish persons by ouerwéening in them selues to well, is hatefull both to God and men. The other parte of Modestie is coupled to the former with greate af­finitie, the desier of learnyng, by which any man acknowledgyng his ignorance is holden with the loue of Science, to the procuring of whiche he frameth his [Page] minde. He doeth easely learne many thinges, who is studious of wisdom, and vnderstandeth that he is ignorant in many matters: what fellowes were the Philosophers, whose whole life hath béen nothing els than a certaine perpe­tuall studie of knowledge and wisdom. Contrarie vnto these be suche, who mought attayne to greate learning vn­lesse they did suppose themselues alrea­die to haue stored their Pouches: the whiche chiefly repugneth this vertue, whiche proceedeth from Modestie and confessyon of proper ignorance. This vertue is situated betwixt two vices, Curiositie and carelesnesse, either neg­ligence of learnynge, and knowledge. Curiositie is a superfluous paine, or an immoderate greedines to know things either pernicious or vayne, and littel a­uayleable: contrarie to the laudable and natiue, and vehement desier and indeuour to learne ingendred in al men naturally. For the serche & inquisicion of truthe is proper to man. And as ouer muche industrious labour is worthely dispraysed, so is negligence, and the con­tempte [Page] of Science, whiche is appertey­ninge to blockish and dull persons, who appeare more like vnto bruite creatu­res, then to men. The third braunche of Modestie is Merinesse or Pleasant­nesse, and delectablenesse, and also Hu­manitie, and courtesie of talke, whiche who that shall vse prudently, he shalbe pleasant to all men, and for that also the better accepted. Merinesse is which as­cribeth a certaine meane to sportes and pastimes: and vseth these same in time and place with them, vnto whom they are thankefull, to stur vp honest mirth, and to wipe away the anguishes of the minde with a certayne delight. This also is a meane betwixt two vices, as Aristotle beareth witnesse in his second booke Ad Nicomachum, vnhonest skof­fing, and carterlike vnsauournesse. He that keepeth a meane of pleasantnesse applied to sporte, is reckened mery and ciuill: He that passeth degree, is comp­ted a rayler, what maner of felowes are the Parasites, and stage Players, and other light and foolish men. But he which altogether abhorreth Maygames [Page] is iudged beastly, and vplandishe. But wée must diligently take heede, lesse through our bourdyng wee offende any man: that there be not immoderate cō ­ceites, not filthy, not foolish. The work of Apothegmes collected of Erasmus shall minister many mery toyes. And as concernyng that pleasantnesse of life whiche is remnant: who that shewes himself delectable in suche sorte, as rea­son requireth, he is called easie, gentell, courtise: and Facilitie is reckened Me­diocritie. He whiche passeth the meane, if he be ledde with no occasion, is to be compted ouer easie, and pliant: but if for his owne profit, he is to be esteemed a flatterer. But he whiche altogether dissenteth and departeth from meane and reason, and sheweth himselfe sadde in all respects, he is to be thought testif, and churlish, and worthie of al mennes hatred, with that vncourteise sadnesse, and rude grauitie, and vnthankefull to wise men. A certayne sadde sagenesse in countenance séemeth to be ingraffed in certayne, what one is geuen to that Crito of Terence: which if it be natu­rall, [Page] surely it can neither be called pro­perly good, nor euill. It shalbe reckened good, if it agree to right reason. But there is a certaine secte of menne which cloke foolishnesse in their face and coun­tenaunce, and also in their iesture, iet­ting and communication. Whose af­fectate grauity ratified by lewd custom, is wonte to appeare very foolishe vnto witty men, and more rightlie informed vnto humanity. The last member of sober moode doth teache that the paum­pering and apparelling of the carcase is to be moderated, and seemelinesse to be kepte in it as in other matters, lesse ei­ther ouer curious care and riotte, or els carterlye and vnnaturall slouenry and vncleanlinesse be reproued. For this vertue which consisteth of adourning a­greeable for the commodity of the body, & necessity of nature is a meane betwixt superfluity and filth. Let the apparell than be moderate, cleane, fit for the bo­dy: and conueniente for vse, not for foo­lishnesse, and rediculous ostentacion, what one the barbarous and outlandish is wont to be; let it be applied to the [Page] persons accordyng to their dignitie and riches: and to kinde, to age, to place, to time, and to honest custome. One be­ [...]eemeth noble and riche men, another the base and poore: one men, another women: one olde fathers, another the galant youthe.

Of Intemperance and her two partes. Cap. xxxvij.

INtemperancie, is a redinesse conseting to desiers againste reason: which Cice­ro in his fourth boke Tusculanarū ques­tionum doth define, a swaruing from al vnderstanding, and from righte reason, so bended from the [...]rescript of reason, that by no meanes the appetites sensual neither can be ru­led nor yet repressed. The parts of this vice are two. One which verily addic­teth [Page] her selfe vnto pleasures: the other which doth nothing at all. Throughe her men do rush hedlong after the vsage of beasts into al delices, the Empire of Reason throwen away. Through this, by the rudenesse of minde some (as it were with a certaine abashmente) are made dull vnto all pastaunces, and also do reiect and contempne honest and ne­cessary delighte without occasion. But these I iudge a man may séeke, and find a fewe, which through a certayne Bru­tishnesse would so abhorre all pastime, wherewith Nature is cheefely delited, that they may be intreated with no de­lectation. The better sort by a greate deale are wont to go astray in the other parte, and to géeue to muche scope vnto pleasure, which temperaunce doth bri­del by the Squire of reason: who being collocated betweene those two vices, dothe alwaies laye claime to that preci­ous & peculier Mediocritie of Vertue.

Of the coniunction of Ver­tues amonge them selues, the difference and excellencie. Cap. xxxviij.

ALl Vertues, which nowe are absolute, and brought vnto the perfection of reason, are so connected together amonge them selues with a certayne mutuall copula­tion, as the members of our bodie: they do so agrée in amible concord as musical Harmonie. This is that manifold or­der of Ringes, whiche Plato writeth to be drawen vnto of the Lodestone.

For you shal not cal him perfectly and truly a prudent man, which same is not both iust, and valiaunt, and temperate: neither iust, who wanteth the rest: nor valiaunte, nor Temperate, who is not [...]urnished with the felowship of the re­sidue, although he be conuersaunt more commonly in one Vertue, than in ano­ther. But the vnperfecte vertues are [Page] not so yoked together that they may make as it weare a consente and agree­ment. Wee haue heard that Socrates was Temperate and Modest: yet that bourding whiche is sayde to haue béene peculiar vnto him, when as he woulde reprehende the vnskilfulnesse of others so greedely, can not escape the checke of arrogancie. But truly that great pa­cience and Temperaunce of Iob publi­shed in holy Scriptures was most per­fet of all others. But not so many ex­amples are alledged of this absolute Vertue: yet many maye be disclosed of the vnperfect. Som vertues excell o­thers in excellencie and operation: as Prudencie whose Harboroughe is pla­ced in the minde, and is occupied in the out findinge of trouthe, she is preferred before Temperaunce whiche modera­teth delices, and appoynteth a meane vnto all thinges, vnto whom a place is assigned in the desiringe facultye of the soule. Iustice passeth Fortitude because she preserueth the equality of humayne society, and hath no certaine habitation, but is indifferently spred abrode vnto [Page] all partes of the Soule: this ought to be busied in despising of perils, and oughte to bee situated in the Vertue of the an­grie Soule: what soeuer verily be sub­iect vnto these cheefe Vertues, as they are lower in order, so be they in stateli­nesse, by reason that some of them are vnder others: neither forthwith should bee referred vnto the greateste good, whiche those principall Fountaynes do nexte consider, but euery one to their proper beginninges, and shoulde haue regard of vs rather then of felicity: sith not they of their owne power, but by those foure Capitalles may be straight­ned vnto God him selfe, who is the end of all good thinges. To this wished marke, and eternal felicitie we attaine, by the operation of Vertue verily (as in the beginning it is expressed) yet the which God him selfe may make prospe­rous vnto vs, through his Clemencie: to whom be due all praise, honoure and glory for euer and euer. Amen.

FINIS.

This booke translated by Iohn Charlton, late fe­low of Exetre Colledge, in Oxford, & now Schole maister of Wyrksop, in the countie of Notting­ham.

Mors vltima Linea rerum.

The Table.

  • OF the ende and partes of Morall Science. Cap. i.
  • Of the end of man, and the Soueraigne good. Cap. ii.
  • Of Affections. Cap. iii
  • Of Loue. Cap. iiii.
  • Of desire and hope. Cap. v.
  • Of Gladnesse. Cap. vi,
  • Of hatred and anger and like affectiōs, Cap. vii.
  • Of Sadnesse. Cap. viii.
  • Of Feare. Cap. ix.
  • Of Boldnesse. Cap. x.
  • Of Vertue and her diuision and Ori­ginall. Cap. xi
  • Of Prudencie Cap. xii.
  • Of Domesticall gouernaunce. Cap. xiii,
  • Of Politike gouernaunce Cap. xiiii.
  • O Vices contrary to vvisdom Cap xv.
  • Of Iustice Cap xvi.
  • Of the partes of Iustice Cap xvii.
  • Of the six partes of Iustice constituted [Page] of Cicero, and theyr Vices, and of some other vvhich be vvelnie of the same nature cap, xviii
  • Of Godlinesse cap. xix.
  • Of Reuerence, Cap. xx
  • Of Trouth, cap. xxi
  • Of Reuengement, Cap. xxii
  • Of Thanke, cap. xxiii
  • Of compassion, Cap. xxiiii
  • Of Liberality and vices contrary to this, Auarice and Prodigalitie, cap. xxv
  • Of Magnificence Cap. xxvi
  • Of Frendship cap. xxvii
  • Of Iniustice Cap. xxviii
  • Of Fortitude cap. xxix
  • Of Confidence and Magnanimitie Cap. xxx
  • Of pacience and perseuerance, cap xxxi
  • Of the Vices betvveene vvhiche Forti­tude is placed cap. xxxii
  • Of Temperaunce cap. xxxiii
  • Of Continence and abstinence cap. xxxiiii
  • [Page]Of Clemencie. Cap. xxxv
  • Of Modestie Cap. xxxvi
  • Of Intemperaunce and her tvvo partes, cap. xxxvii
  • Of the coniunction of Vertues amonge [...]hem selues the difference and excel­ [...]encie. Cap. xxxviii
FINIS.
[printer's device of William Howe (McKerrow 142)]

¶ These are to be solde, at the Southwest doore of Poules Churche.

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