A Moral Treatise UPON VALOUR, Divided into TWO BOOKS. Translated from the FRENCH.

LICENSED,

Edw. Cooke.

LONDON, Printed for the Author, Anno Dom. MDCXCIV.

To His Most Sacred Majesty, WILLIAM III. King of England, Scot­land, France, and Ireland, &c.

Most Dread Soveraign,

THose Great Acquests of Glory which ordi­narily did attend the For­tune of Alexander, are now, upon a more great and solid Account, become Your Majesties just Trihute.

[Page] The Insatiable desire of that Illustrious Macedo­nian, to establish his Great Name in the Memory of the World, was the Chief Cause, by which he made his way through the Cre­dulity of that Age, to the Seat of Jupiter Hamon.

To be Esteemed less than a Deity, fell short of the Ambition of that Aspiring Monarch: But Your Ma­jesties Great Soul, of a more Pious Stamp, keeps Touch with the Will of [Page] Heaven, and instead of false and flashy Adoration, Your Majesties utmost Aime is that Distinguish­ing Glory of being placed (like good King David) in the Throne of Justice.

Yet, Royal Sir, I hope you will allow the many and indispensable Favours which we daily receive from Your Majesties Wise Conduct, not only do oblige us to Pay our utmost Ac­knowledgments, but also to follow You, as another Joshua of the People.

[Page] The many and uncommon benefits which generally accrew from a Magnani­mous Prince, to the Wel­fare of his Subjects, con­firm the Affections of the Dutiful, and prevail more than all the Argu­ments which Reason or Religion can produce to the Conservation of Loyalty.

To gratifie the Ambiti­on of some, Fortune, for a Time, has afforded fresh Laurels, when the chief [Page] design of such Aspirers, is only to Embroil the World, and Conquer more upon the Account of their own Vain-Glory, than tbe Pub­lick Justice.

But Your Majesties just Cause, moves in a higher Sphere, and engages Your Royal Person in a War, as well to the Preservation of our Religion, as our Liberties, as if the Two Great Tables of the Law were Engraved on Your Majesties Sword.

[Page] Go forward then, most Sacred Sir, in Your Royal Ʋndertakings, and make Your Name as Eternal, as Illustrious, that by each Auspicious Act, the World may see, that while Good Princes Live, the Great Creator of Heaven is their Protector uopn Earth; and when Dead, the World the Preserver of their Memories.

I am therefore bold, Most Sacred Majesty, to lay the Ensuing Tract at [Page] Your Royal Feet, and De­dicate this Translation of True Valour, to Your Gracious Acceptance, in which may plainly be per­ceived, in Two particular Chapters of the same, tho' Writ several Years since, The true Prophetick Cha­racters of the late King James, and Your Present Majesty; The Subject Matter of which agreeing so exactly with the whole Series of Your Majesties Life, and which Your Ma­jesty [Page] is so well Experienced in, gives me hopes of Your Majesties Royal Patro­nage, and encourages this Presumption, of Subscrib­ing my Self,

Your Majesties most Dutiful, and most Faithful Subject, Samuel Compton.

A Moral Treatise UPON VALOUR.

LIB. I.

CHAP. I.
Valour is necessary to a Prince, for his Reputation.

THE First Reason that obli­geth Princes to be valiant, is their Reputation. There is no Vertue that makes so great a Figure in the World, nor leaves so great an Impression on Men's Spirits, as this of Valour: And [Page 2] the Esteem that People have for it ap­pears chiefly in Military Discipline: We do not make so narrow an Inspe­ction into the Conduct of Men of other Professions; we do not regard so much whether an Artist is continually in his Shop, whether a Merchant is every Day upon the Exchange, whether a Lawyer constantly attends the Bar, or a Phy­sician waits daily on his Patients: But a Soldier, for the least Failure in his Duty, must undergo Severities. Up­on his first Listing himself, he is an Apprentice to War and Danger; and his whole Life is but a continued Suc­cession of Labours and Fatigues. O­ther Professions one may sometimes neglect, and not be punished for it; we may renounce them, and exchange them for others, or may wholly leave them off, and no Penalty can be in­flicted on us: But the least Omission in War passeth for an Offence punishable; and Desertion, for a Capital Crime. An Army is a distinct People from o­thers, and a Realm by it self: Besides the general Laws, they have Laws pe­culiar to themselves; according to which they inflict the speediest, exactest [Page 3] and severest Justice in the World. This rigorous Exercise that is kept up amongst Soldiers, ariseth from a Consideration we have for them, and from a Maxim which comes very near to that of Plato, when in his Common­wealth he puts this remarkable Diffe­rence between Free-men and Slaves, in that he condemns Free-men to Death for Crimes, for which Slaves shall re­ceive a more favourable Chastisement. Some hold, that an Army ranged in Battel is the finest and most noble Spe­ctacle that can be presented to our Eyes: The Pleasure we take in seeing them, ariseth from the high Idaea we have of Valour. For, indeed, should we see Troops glistering in their Arms, drawn up in the most regular manner, and a­bundantly furnished with all those Ma­terials which are requisite for Siege or Battel, and we should at the same time be persuaded that they were Cowards under the Appearance of Soldiers, we should disdain to look upon this vain and useless Mobile; or if we did cast our Eyes upon them, it would be ra­ther to ridicule than admire them.

CHAP. II.
The same Reflections continued.

BUT to carry this Reflection far­ther, we may consider, that we bestow greater Pains and Cost to in­cite Men to Valour, than to any of the other Vertues. Kings keep those in daily Pay, whom they employ in their Wars: They do not give Mo­ney to Men for their Prudence, nor for their Liberality; but they main­tain them for being valiant. There are I know not how many Arts sub­ordinate to the Art Military; and a Thousand Sorts of Artificers are em­ployed, to equip a Soldier Cap-a pe: One makes him a Sword; another, his Breast-plate; a Third, his Head-piece; others there be, that are for­ging and furbishing his Fire-Arms, (which Antiquity was ignorant of:) Some are employed in making Instru­ments which may excite his Joy, or raise his Fury; as Drums, Trum­pets, and Wind-Musick; whose ra­vishing [Page 5] Sounds make the most agree­able Harmony. The Manage was in­vented for the War: And if the Ri­ding-Master train up an Horse of Value, he is designed for the Day of Battel. The Pomp and Flourish of Habits is not comely in any, but Sol­diers by Profession: Feathers, Scarves, Gold or Silver-Embroyderies, look great, when worn with a Sword; and a Soldier hath always been al­lowed these sorts of Ornaments, as Presages of his Triumph. The Bran­ches of the noblest of all Trees are wreathed into Coronets for him; as, the Lawrel, (which Thunder seems to reverence;) and the Palm-Tree, which never bows down to the Earth, but advanceth up ambitiously towards the Sky. We cannot number the dif­ferent Prizes that the Ancients esta­blished, as the Recompence of valiant Actions: There were not only some for Captains and Generals; as, the Sur-names of Countries which they conquered, Trophies, Triumphal Arches, and Triumphs themselves; but there were others for the Com­mon-Soldiers: They bestowed one sort [Page 6] of Crown upon him that first scaled the Walls; they gave another to him who, in the Heat of the Battel, had saved a Roman Citizen: And though the Materials thereof were but com­mon and ordinary, yet they valued them above precious Treasures. A Monarch also takes himself to be ho­noured, when he is called a Captain; neither doth he despise the Title of a Soldier. To speak properly, Sove­reigns have but two Sorts of Profes­sions; to rule their Subjects, and to manage their Wars. The First they teach their own Children; in the Se­cond they instruct their Children, and their Subjects. They take care them­selves to form their Troops; they are not ashamed to have the meanest of their Subjects for their Scholars; and the same Mouth that pronounceth Laws to the whole Nation, will give out Or­ders and Instructions to the raggedest of his Soldiers.

CHAP. III.
It is more pleasant to read the Lives of Valiant, than of other Princes.

WE pronounce the Name of Ale­xander and Caesar more fre­quently than those of other Prin­ces. We seem to feel a kind of In­terest in their past Fortunes, we fan­sie our selves concerned in their Con­quests, and to have some Share in their Triumphs; we are charmed with a far greater Pleasure in read­ing of their Lives, than that of No­velty; we are more delighted to read their Stories over and over again, than that of any other Prince, though but once. Notwithstanding a Thou­sand Republicans, and Men of Com­monwealth-Principles, have endeavou­red to palliate the Death of Caesar, with specious Pretences; yet, at this very Day, we cannot but look upon that Act as an Assassination, and re­gard [Page 8] the Criminals for no less than Parricides: We conspire against them who plotted against him; we ab­horr those of the Senate that were so cruel; and it is our Opinion, that the unfortunate End of those Con­spirators was an Effect of the just Vengeance of Heaven upon them. What Regret have we not also for Alexander, to think he should be re­moved out of the World at so young an Age? We lament his Death, whe­ther it were violent or natural: We conceive that so great a Courage de­served a longer Life. After he had conquered Asia, we could have wish­ed he had turned his Arms against Europe, (as he designed to do:) We imagine we should have been well pleased to have seen him attack the Romans, who at that Time were ma­king their Advances in Italy, and were laying the Foundation of the most puissant Republick in the World. And that which is here most remarkable, is, we do not cease to admire their Valour, when, at the same Time, we know they have been unfortu­nate in their Enterprises. Pyrrhus, in [Page 9] many of his Expeditions, met with more Disgraces, than Success: He was despoiled by Lysimachus of the Part which he had in Macedonia: He was forced to abandon Sicily and Italy, after he had spent six Years Time there: He raised the Siege of Lacedaemon, and was slain before that at Argos. Yet, notwithstanding all these Misfortunes, we follow the Con­duct of his Exploits with Admiration: We wish his Success had been equal to his Courage; and are sorry that all his Conquests should drop through his Fingers, just as he had caught them with his Hands; and after having van­quished his Enemies, through a Thou­sand Dangers and Hazards, that he was not so happy as to reap the Fruit of his Victories.

CHAP. IV.
The Romans erected Statues to the Honour of Hannibal; and they made all their Sta­tues in a Military Habit.

WE can alledge nothing that can redound more to the Glo­ry of Valour, than what is reported by Pliny; that in Rome it self three Statues were erected to the Honour of Hannibal. So that this implacable Enemy of that Republick had the Mo­numents of his Glory set up within the Precincts of that City, wherein he had brandished his Terrours; and the Ruin whereof he had solemn­ly sworn. To this Remark of Pliny, let us add another of Cicero's, who observed that all the Roman Statues were made in a Military Habit. This Custom speaks much to the Praise of Valour; for that they took it up out of Choice, and not out of Necessity. And although amongst the Romans, the [Page 11] same Persons were Magistrates in Time of Peace, as well as Captains in Times of War; yet they did not think it proper to make Choice of any other Habit for their Statues, or to repre­sent them with the Ensigns of Magi­stracy. In Truth, we cannot say the same of the Graecian Statues; we can­not observe any Preference on the Ac­count of Arms in that Point. The Graecian Heroes had no Habits upon their Statues; either because it was an ancient Custom, which they had in Reverence; or else, that they had a Mind to leave a Liberty to their Engravers to exercise their own Inge­nuity, who thereby might better shew the utmost Excellency of their Art, in exactly delineating the Proportion and Shapes of Humane Bodies. Graeca res est nihil velare, ac contra Romana thora­cas addere.

SIR, I presume Your Highness will easily pardon me for citing to you a Sentence out of a Latin Au­thor, since you Your Self already so well understand that Language. One Day I had the Happiness to see some of Your Composures; and it was not [Page 12] without Admiration that I considered them: They were so neatly exact, that the severest Criticks might de­sire nothing more: And we may with Truth affirm, that the Progress You have made in Learning, is far above Your Years.

CHAP. V.
The Esteem Men have had for Valour appears by the Names which the Greeks and La­tins have given to it; and also, by that we have gi­ven it in our own Lan­guage.

YOU have then observed, (SIR) that the Latins, by the Word Vertue, particularly understand Va­lour; as if they conceived Valour was the only Vertue, or, at least, the Vertue by way of Excellency. [Page 13] Besides, some have thought, probably enough, that this Word is derived from a Name which signifies Man, Virtus à Viro. The like Etymology is plainly evident in the Greek Tongue; which not only gives the general Name of Vertue to Valour, in calling it [...]; but they also called it [...]; to let us understand, that in this a Man may behold his true Character; and that he is unworthy to bear the Name of a Man, who is defective in Courage. But neither the Greeks nor Latins have dignified this Vertue with so honou­rable a Name, as that by which we render it in our Language. Is it not a remarkable Thing, that we have appropriated to it the very Name by which we use to express the Price or Worth of Things? As much as to let us understand, that Men are va­luable, more or less, according to the Proportion of their Courage; and that Valour is the only Fountain of Merit.

CHAP. VI.
We love the Image of Valour in other Creatures which are hardy.

THE Lion cannot properly be said to have true Valour, seeing that Valour is a Vertue, and Vertue be­longs only to Reasonable Creatures. Yet Valour is so amiable, that we love its very Image and Appearance in the Brute: And we speak of the Lion with a kind of awful Esteem: We attribute to him Actions of Ge­nerosity; we say, he will not insult over a vanquished Enemy, that he will pardon them whom he hath brought under the Power of his Clutches: We say, when he sees him­self in danger to be over-power'd by a Multitude, he will not flee away in Disorder, but make seasonable Halts and Turns; he retreats in State, and, as it were, facing his Enemies. When a Man hath distinguished himself by [Page 15] his Bravery, we bestow some Title upon him in our usual Language; but when Eloquence or Poesie thinks to honour an Heroe, it compares him to a Lion. France, which hath bred up many Persons who deserve that Appellation, doth not bring forth Lions: But when we know they are brought over from those scorching Climates where they are bred, into our Country, we are curious to go and view them; we consider them with Attention, and a kind of Re­spect; we take pleasure to see them extend their Claws, with which they can tear Elephants in pieces; we love to hear his Roaring, which has been the Terrour of a whole Country. The same may be said of the Eagle: We conceive lofty Thoughts of him; we consider him as a Sovereign, who exerciseth his Dominion in the vast Em­pire of the Aery Regions, and makes his uninterrupted Progress through immense Spaces. That which gives us so noble an Idaea of him, is, That he excels all the Feathered Creation in Courage, and his Approaches to them are terrible. The Word Prince, [Page 16] in the Original, signifies no more than Chief: And this Title carries a smoo­ther, and more acceptable Sound to a newly-conquered People, than all the other harsh Names, which are as so many Marks of Arbitrary Sove­reignty. For this Reason Augustus (as Tacitus hath well observed) chose to govern the Empire under no other Title than that of Prince. Dion, to the same Sence, reports of another Emperor, who used to say, I am the Master of my Slaves, the General of my Soldiers, and the Prince of all the rest of the Romans. The most graceful Superiority is that which is founded in the highest Perfection: And we at­tribute this Name to those who ex­cel all others in their laudable Pro­fessions. We therefore call Virgil the Prince of Poets, and Cicero the Prince of Orators. Of all those Royal Du­ties that God hath annexed to the Dignity of a Prince, this Title car­ries in it an Eternal Advertisement to those who are honoured with it, to surpass their Subjects in Merit, as well as Power, if ever they will be the Chiefs, and possess in all Things [Page 17] the highest Rank. They are then obliged to acquire more Glory than other Men; but they cannot have more Glory, if they have not more Vertue; and the most renowned of all Vertues is Valour.

CHAP. VII.
Valour is the Ornament of all Ages; and of the Female Sex, when it is found there.

WIthout Valour, Youth is despi­cable; and with it, Old Age is honourable. What could be a more glorious Spectacle, than to be­hold Antigonus in the Graecian Histo­ry, and the Constable of Montmorency in that of our own; who at the Age of Eighty Years, sought for Death in the midst of Battels; and there they both found it? Homer hath made us conceive a greater Esteem for Nestor, in bringing him to the Siege of Troy, [Page 18] than for the Father of Achilles, or Ʋlysses, whom he left snoring at home, in their private Houses. Cer­tain I am, we regard the Macedo­nian Soldiers, called Argyraspides, with Admiration: They were the Flower of the Militia of that King­dom; they had served not only in all the Wars of Alexander, but likewise in those of his Father Philip: The greatest part of them were Seventy Years of Age, and the youngest Six­ty. It was not because they were Niggards of their Lives, that they lasted so long: They were all cover­ed with Wounds; neither could they receive any new ones, but upon their old Scars.

Valour is also an Ornament to the other Sex, when it is found there. A­mongst all Queens, we most admire Semiramis, and Zenobia. And it is im­possible to think of a Name more ta­king, than that of an Amazon.

CHAP. VIII.
Cowardice is the greatest Re­proach to a Man.

COwardice is the most stabbing Re­proach that can be put upon a Man. From the Time that he is up­braided with it, he takes up a Resolu­tion, either to perish himself, or to a­venge the Affront by the Death of his Accuser. It seems a less Evil to him, to kill, or be killed, than to suffer this Ignominy; and frequently, through a blind Fury, he is transported to the heighth of Revenge. Nay, he had ra­ther appear a perfect Criminal, and more really guilty of other Vices, than so much as to seem reproachable for this. When Nature perceives that she hath been unkind, in not befriending a Man with that Courage which is pro­per for him, she gives him continual Advices to hide his Defect; she will shift him away from all Occasions, where his Weakness may be brought upon the Stage: She presents to his [Page 20] Thoughts Duty and Honour, that so she may lead him to do that upon Con­sideration, which he was unable to do upon his first Thoughts: And If she finds all this unprofitable, then she sometimes inspires him with Despair, which may seem to pass for Stoutness and Valour. In short, we may affirm, there is no such rigorous and shameful Slavery, as Servile Fear: When a Man would always be in a State of Security, he never is, nor doth he deserve to be so. The Fear of Dangers, either ho­nourable or necessary, is the Lot of mean Souls; and they whose Lives are least to be valued, are most afraid of losing them.

CHAP. IX.
Whether a Man be Courageous, or Fearful, naturally.

I Am now come to a Thought upon this Subject, which I know not if I can well express. Nature having im­pressed [Page 21] the Law of Self-preservation upon all Creatures, inspires them some­times with very contrary Sentiments: For we cannot doubt but it is from the same Principle of Self-Preservation, which renders the Lion so undaunted, and the Hart so fearful. But if I may have Leave to abstract Humane Rea­son, and to consider Man in the Re­semblance he may have with other Creatures, I believe, Nature hath not placed him in the Rank of those who are fearful, but of the Courageous. This appears, not only from the rash and hardy Actions which Men some­times commit, against the Light of Reason; but also from the Salvage Nations, and their manner of Living, who are perpetually waging War, one against another; and seldom cease, till their eager and bold Assaults fer­ment into Fury and Ferocity. But Cowards, which ought to make use of their Understandings, to elevate the Courage they received at their Birth, make no other Use of their timorous Reasonings, but to disgrace and stifle it; and by this unworthy Vice, sink themselves into a lower Degree than [Page 22] ever Nature intended them for: Whereas, on the other Side, they might not only have maintained their native Courage, but have advanced themselves to an higher Rank, by the Succours of Wit, and the Aids of Vertue.

CHAP. X.
Shame hath always attended the Actions of Cowards, a­mongst People which had any Sense of Honour.

BUT let us not frame Suppositions injurious to Humane Nature: Let us speak of Men as they are; (that is to say) as Reasonable Creaturs; and consider the Shame and Contempt wherewith the Actions of Cowards are deservedly branded amongst People which have had any Sense of Honour. If any Disgrace happen'd to the Ro­mans by the Rashness or Imprudence [Page 23] of a Captain, they easily granted him Pardon for this Fault. After the Loss of a Battel which threatned their total Ruin, as soon as they understood that the Consul, who was the Cause of this Misfortune, was coming back for Rome, they went out to meet him with all the Testimonies of Respect, rather than with any Thoughts of Indigna­tion: They gave him Thanks, that af­ter such an Event, he had not despaired of the Safety of the Commonwealth. But they did not carry it so to­wards another, Mancinus. who made a dishonourable Treaty in Spain: They declared him a Slave to the Numantines, by a publick Edict; and they effectually sent him back with an Herald, to deliver him into their Hands. It is true, the City of Nu­mantia would not receive him. So that it was made a Question in the Ancient Roman Law, whether this Man should become Free by his Return into his Country; and whether he should be restored to the Freedom of a Citizen, and the Dignity of a Senator. One Time, after an entire Defeat, when they had scarce Men enough left to [Page 24] furnish their Forts, and but a small Ransom was demanded of them for a great Number of Prisoners; yet they would not redeem them: They ca­shier'd and banish'd all those who were saved in the Battel, into Sicily: and as Marcellus was passing through that Island, to besiege Syracuse, those wretched Soldiers cast themselves at his Feet, conjuring him with Tears to List them again into the Roman Ser­vice: They made Protestations to him, that they would make it appear, that that Bloody Defeat was not to be at­tributed to their Default, but to their Misfortune. Marcellus, who was touch­ed with a Sense of their Distress, though he was to engage in a Siege where he should have need of Men, wrote to the Senate in their Behalf; who returned him this Answer, That the Commonwealth had no need of the Ser­vice of Cowards. In their ancient Di­scipline, they had a Military Punish­ment which was very surprizing: When a Soldier had been guilty of Cowardise, they used to Let him Blood, as if he had been dangerously sick, and as if the Distemper had in­vaded [Page 25] his Spirits; to let us under­stand by this sort of Chastisement, that it was impossible a Man should continue in his right Senses, and at the same time be a Coward.

As for the Lacedaemonians, they fol­lowed the Opinion of those, who (by a Definition peculiar enough) held, that Valour was the Fear of Shame: And upon this Apprehension, there was at Sparta a Temple consecrated to Fear. Amongst them, Fleeing in Time of War, Loss of Arms, and (in a Word) all Cowardly Actions, or but the Ap­pearances of them, were Indelible Stains, and Eternal Infamies. There were some of them who died for Grief, whereinto they had precipitated them­selves; neither would they admit of any Consolation. There were found some Mothers, who killed their own Sons when they returned from a Battel, as believing they did not there behave themselves valiantly. They invited Tyrteus the Athenian into their City, because his Verses excited Men to Va­lour. On the contrary, Archilocus be­ing gone thither, they banished him as soon as they knew there was a Sentence [Page 26] in his Verses which seemed to favour Cowardice; the Sence whereof was this: I will cast away my Buckler, to save my Life: I may purchase another Buck­ler; but if I lose my Life, I can never have another.

CHAP. XI.
The Esteem that Men have is not altogether Gratis, no more than their Love: And in this Respect we may find Reason why Valour is so much prized.

ACcording to this disadvantageous Idaea, which we have with Rea­son conceived of a Vice contrary to Valour, if a Prince appears defective in this, no Person dare, or will, ap­plaud him: For, as we love, to be be­loved again; so we esteem others, to make our selves esteemed. And it is [Page 27] an undeniable Proof of a good Judg­ment, to know where to place our Choice rightly. This Reflection which I have just now made, That the E­steem of Men is never Gratis, no more than their Love, hath occasioned me another manner of Reasoning, which did not at first offer it self to my Mind, and hath made me to discover one of the prime Sources from whence ariseth the Reputation we have of Va­lour. Both Publick and Private Men regard those who are endued with this Vertue, as Props and Bucklers, whereof they may sometimes stand in need. So that by our Suffrages which we bestow on them, in Emulation one of another, we would oblige them to defend us on all Occasions; and en­gage their Inclinations to protect us, as well as their Power. 'Tis true, we esteem a valiant Man, though he be in the farthest Part of the Indies; and our Estimation of him survives after he is dead. But when an Incli­nation is born with us, it doth not wait always to put it self into Action, till all necessary Circumstances are of­fered; and although Nature hath ap­pointed [Page 28] it to a certain End, yet it follows its Course nevertheless, though it miss of its End. Besides, Example re-unites all Times, and all Places. By the Help of Example, Valour hath a Sympathetick Force; its Operations influence those who are remote; and the Powder of an Hero's Ashes works at a distance: We regard the Memoirs of their Lives, as a perpetual Spur and Incitement to Vertue; we hope it will produce other Heroes in our Days, to whom we may flee, as a Sanctuary in our Distresses. And we should never have been transported with so much Zeal in the Praises of Constantine and Theodosius, if we did not believe the Emulation of their Valour would be effectual to pro­duce other Constantine's, and other Theodosius's, who may be our De­fenders.

CHAP. XII.
The Desire of Superiority in the Matters of Valour hath been the Original Cause of Wars.

IT has been imagined, that the first Cause of War was, a Desire that Nations have had to transplant them­selves into more fruitful Countries, and more commodious Habitations, than their own; when, in Truth, Na­ture has more Care of her Productions, than to leave them destitute of Things necessary in the Places where they were brought forth: No Breezes refresh so sweetly, as one's native Air; no Man­sion is so pleasant, as that which is situated in a Man's own Country. Those who are born under the Freez­ings of the North, or the Scorchings of the Line, would not exchange their Dwellings for the most temperate Cli­mate in the World. The Original Cause of War seems then to proceed from the Ambition Men generally have [Page 30] for Superiority in Matters of Valour. This Desire is, from Time to Time, kept awake in the Minds of People; and hath carried them on to fight one against another, without any other Consideration. Hence it oftentimes comes to pass, that the Conqueror doth not care to keep his Conquests entire; but is contented with a Tri­bute, an Homage, or a bare Acknow­ledgment that the Vanquished make, that they have been surmounted pure­ly by the Force of his Arms. We do not believe that the Goths, Huns and Vandals, those Hurricanes of Nations, which made an Inundation into the Roman Empire, were animated by this Motive: It may be, they did not be­lieve it themselves. But this is not the first Time that a Passion has been ea­gerly pursued, without being under­stood by him that followed it. It happens oftentimes, that these Springs play and move in the Bottom of our Hearts, and our Hearts not perceive them: And it is very probable, that Nature being, as it were, jealous of her self, endeavours to shew it in some of her Operations, wherein she hath [Page 31] better succeeded, than in others; and so pushed on those fierce Nations, to make them appear more courageous, than those that were subdued by them. Moreover, when we speak of the A­laric's, and the Attila's, there is a Thought darts in upon us, which en­tirely takes us up: We are well plea­sed that History hath not forgotten them, as not deserving to be confound­ed with the Lumber of the Crowd: Whatever Opinion we may have of them otherwise, yet we never think of them with such mean and slighty Thoughts as we commonly have for Things base and vile. Those very Per­sons which have an Horrour for them, yet can detest them, without despising them. They are compared to Tor­rents, and Lightnings: They look up­on them as Serpents, who raise them­selves up towards the Sky; and not as mere crawling Vermin. In short, If we observe in them something Barba­rous, yet we also find something, I know not what, of Great. These Men have celebrated themselves by their Boldness; they have forced Fame to immortalize them; they have ra­vished [Page 32] an Esteem from those very Na­tions they have ransacked; and by in­vading of Empires, they have usurped to an Admiration. It was for this Reason that the Romans, who treated all other Nations as Barbarians, (except the Graecians;) and the Ancient Grae­cians, who looked upon all the World besides as barbarians, (not excepting the Romans;) put a great Difference, both the one, and the other, between those which they called Barbarians: They spoke with Contempt of the Sy­rians and Egyptians, because they look­ed upon them as Cowards; but they spake of the Gauls with Esteem, be­cause they accounted them valiant. This fierce and undaunted Nation (whose Country France then was) serves me for an Example, to justifie the Notion which I have been pur­suing. One of the Ancients hath made this Remark; That the Destruction of Rome had been infallible, if the Gauls would have attacked her during the Time she made War against the Car­thaginians, or against the Italians: But in regard Rome had the Weight of o­ther Wars upon her Shoulders, and [Page 33] other Enemies to grapple with, the Gauls stood by as Neuters, and Spectators of the Event, without taking either Side. But afterwards, when they saw her free, and dis-engaged, either through Conquest, or Treaty, then they poured themselves into Italy, and made that terrible Irruption, called, Tumultus Gallicus; which alarm'd the whole World to take up Arms, and to defend themselves against such for­midable Enemies. Was not this a vi­sible Affectation of Valour? They would overcome; yet not so, but that their Victory should be wholly attri­buted to their Courage. And they had assuredly been victorious, had they but equalized the Romans in Discipline, as they surpassed them in Valour.

CHAP. XIII.
History recounts the Actions of Valour more exactly than o­ther Things.

HIstory takes more Care to circum­stantiate the Actions of Valour, than those of other Vertues. When she falls upon a Siege, or a set Battel, she makes a Stand, and would have us do so too, and look every Way about us. She frequently spends more Time in describing one Day's Battel, than in the Journals of a Ten Years Peace. When she meets with any memorable Event, she makes a punctual Descri­ption of the Place where it happened; represents to us the regular Motions of the Troops, reports the Harangues of the Generals, marks out the exact Time when the Signal was given; she observes the several Companies, and their Movements, both in the On-set, and in the Defence; she numbers the Slain, and gives us an Account of the [Page 35] Prisoners. In short, she waits, Step by Step, on the Conquerors, and the Conquered; and, as if there were no­thing else in the World but those Ar­mies which were engaged, she forgets all the rest of Mankind, only to de­scribe this Battel. Now, she doth not take this Pains out of Ostentation, but rather out of Necessity. And we shall find she hath Reason for this Exact­ness, if we call to mind, that Set Bat­tels have caused the Revolutions of Empires, and have put Changes upon the Face of the World. In effect, At such a Time the Soldiers carry in their Hands the Destiny of Nations: And it often comes to pass, that on the Suc­cess of one good or ill Day hath de­pended the Prosperity or Misery of many succeeding Ages. And as Histo­ry is more exact in these Descriptions, so we are apt most especially to apply our selves to them: We consider with Attention the immortal Impressions which they leave upon our Minds. Painting takes us up more entirely in Picture and Landskips of this nature, than in others: It cannot represent to us a more agreeable Object, than an [Page 36] Hero in a Battel. And we take ex­tream Pleasure, either to behold A­chilles giving Chase to the Trojans, or a Scipio fighting under the Walls of Carthage: But we think it does not concern us, neither do we with any Pleasure stay to consider, whether A­chilles (as Story saith) was as beauti­ful as he was valiant; or whether Hea­ven had blessed Scipio with a Majestick Body, worthy so great a Soul. We love to see Charles the Eighth in his Heroick Posture, though his Stature and his Presence were little taking or advantageous. We should love to see Agesilaus presented to the Life, (if possible) and in his natural Shapes; but that he had expresly forbidden while he lived, that any should draw his Portraicture, or erect his Statue.

CHAP. XIV.
Although Justice be the Prin­cipal of Vertues, yet Men honour Valour more than Justice: And the Reason of this their Conduct.

IT is the Opinion of the most sage Philosopher, in his Ethicks, that there are more Praises attributed to just and valiant Men, than to Persons eminent for other Vertues. He might have added, (as, in effect, he hath observed in his Problems) that the Va­liant are more highly applauded, than the Just. In pursuing this, I shall not follow the Example of those Orators, who, in their Declamations, usually amplifie the Theme they have espou­sed; and never fail to extol their pre­sent Subject, above all others. We must not be partial, as not for the Men, so neither for the Vertues. It must be confessed, Justice is the Prin­cipal [Page 38] of all: And the Answer of a cer­tain Prince, both valiant and just, was solid and fine: When one demanded of him, whether Valour or Justice was the more reputable; he made this Re­ply, If all the World would follow Ju­stice, Valour would be useless. Yet ne­vertheless, we do here in the bestowing our Acclamations, as Princes sometimes do in the Dispensation of their Kind­ness: The Measure of their Favours is not regulated according to the Propor­tion of the Merit of the Person only; they have other Regards; as, Services rendred, or to be rendred; the Re­commendation of great and necessary Ministers of State; the Effect that their Largesses may have as to the Publick; and a Thousand such like Considerations. Farther; Although Men generally esteem Justice more than Valour, yet they honour Valour more than Justice; they have always added a greater Splendor to the Reputation of this Vertue, than to that of others; and they have taken an extream Care in all Ages, as to Men that live and die in the Wars, to render their Lives il­lustrious, and their Deaths honourable. [Page 39] And it is not without good Reason that they do so; for the Profession of War is the most penible in its Perfor­mances, and the most hazardous in its Designs. Perils are not amiable and lovely in themselves; they must be re­commended and imbellished with Glo­ry. And we may well say, Justice it self hath advised Men to maintain this Conduct; since it is but just, that if Valour hazard all for the Defence and Preservation of the People, that the People, on their side, should refuse nothing that may contribute to the Renown of Valour. Now, all these Reasons are more eminently apparent, in reference to Princes: We ordain Triumphs for them, not only for ha­ving established good Laws, but for having made great Conquests. And not only the Esteem, but the thankful Acknowledgments that People conceive for them, is greater when they return from a Campaign full of Fatigues and Dangers, than when they see them mount the Throne of Justice: Because War is no less hazardous than it is painful; and in the Exercises of Va­lour, the King exposeth his own Life; [Page 40] whereas in the Administration of Ju­stice, he bestows nothing but his Time and Labour.

CHAP. XV.
Valour is necessary to a Prince, for his own Conservation.

THough there were nothing but the Consideration of Honour to in­cite Princes to Valour, one would think this were an effectual Motive to Royal Souls. But this is not the only Thing: Interest and Self-preservation obligeth them to be valiant. Though Policy and Morality are nearly founded upon the same Principles, and are guided al­most by the same Rules, yet it is less rare to find a just and generous Mora­lity amongst private Persons, than a just and generous Policy among States. Those who are managed by just and generous Politicks, are so much the more commendable; but yet, the Ma­xim I have propounded doth not cease [Page 41] to be true. For, if we consider the World now as it is, and as it always hath been, we shall find, that Monar­chies and Republicks are in a continual Defiance; they are always in a State of War. It is not so much great Rivers, or a vast Range of Mountains, that bounds their Dominions, as a mutual and reciprocal Fear they have one of another. From hence it is that they are pre-cautioned to fortifie themselves, to have Garrisons Manned, and Armies in Pay, and to retain the Idaea of War in the midst of a profound Peace. Va­lour is necessary, where there is a con­tinual Suspicion of Injustice, and Jea­lousie of injuries, to put one in a Ca­pacity to repress Violence, and to op­pose Force with Force. When a va­liant Prince is set upon, he often de­fends himself with Success, always, with Honour. Besides; It is certain, they think more than once, before they un­dertake any Thing against him: So that he is seldom reduced to the Ne­cessity of defending himself. And, in Truth, he hath more of those that are secretly jealous of him, than of decla­red Enemies. It frequently happens, [Page 42] that a single Man hath brought Safety to a Nation, and Victory to an Army. This great Confidence proceeds from the Reputation of the General; whe­ther it be in Politick Government, or Military Discipline. There is an an­cient Saying, which is very common; That an Army of Harts, conducted by a Lion, shall be more formidable, than an Army of Lions, led on by an Hart. Af­ter Pyrrhus came into Italy, and had beaten the Romans, commanded by the Consul Albinus, it was ordained at Rome, that no Man should say that the Romans had been vanquished by the Epirotes; but that Albinus had been worsted by Pyrrhus. We must needs highly praise the Conduct of Eumenes; who being to fight a Battel against Craterus and Neo­ptolemus, the former whereof had a great Reputation, and the other none; when he understood that Craterus was ready to fall on him, he made his Troops believe that it was Neoptolemus; so that they engaged briskly in the Battel, and never knew they had to do with Craterus, till they had routed his Army, and slain their General. When Alexander was gone over into [Page 43] Asia, there was great Reason of Fear for Macedonia, almost all their Forces having followed the Fortune of that Prince: Yet neither the Thracians, Illy­rians, nor Graecians durst attack them; or if they did, it was with vain At­tempts; as the Lacedaemonians did with their King Agis: And it was often said, that the Advantages which the Macedonians gained over them was ra­ther the Effect of Alexander's Renown, than Antipater's Conduct and Valour. When Henry the Fourth had conquered his own Kingdom, Spain thought her self happy to make a Peace with him: He enjoys his own Repose, and caused France to enjoy hers: He establisheth himself without Trouble in that King­dom, which in the preceding Age had been the Scene of so many outragious Broils and Rebellions. No Person was so hardy as to set upon him, but rather sought his Alliance. And we know, that at the fatal Time of his Death, when he had made vast Preparations for War, how he alarmed all other States, and put Europe to a Stand. On the other Side, when a Prince is defe­ctive in Courage, he is despised by all [Page 44] the World; and sometimes he is even abandoned by his own Subjects. The strange Misfortune which happened to Severus the Emperor, proceeded from the mean Opinion the Soldiers had of his Valour. Mark Anthony, at the Be­ginning of the Wars, was more belov­ed by the Soldiers, than any General of his Time: Of which he had good Ex­perience. After he had lost a Battel, which forced him to quit Italy, he re-e­stablished his Fortune amongst the Gauls; and by his Presence, drew over to him the Roman Legions, who, instead of fighting him, (as they had Orders) submitted themselves to his Conduct. This very General saw all these Troops desert him, and go over to Augustus, after he had made a shameful and effe­minate Retreat from the Battel of A­ctium. We will relate one Thing, which, though it seems not very im­portant, as being but the Action of a private Person; yet it serves to con­firm the Truth of this Notion that I am upon. Augustus, for the accomplishing of what he had begun, quits Rome a Year after this fatal Battel; and being gone into Egypt, he besiegeth the Ene­my [Page 45] in Alexandria: a Roman Soldier un­der Anthony, so highly signalized him­self in a Sally, that Mark Anthony cau­sed him to sup with him at his own Table, and Cleopatra presented him with an Head-piece and Breast-plate of Gold: Yet notwithstanding, though this Soldier was so magnificently recom­penced, the Night following he deserts Anthony, and goes over to Augustus's Camp. I alledge not this Example, in any wise to excuse such base Ingrati­tude; but to let you see the Danger a Man exposeth himself to of being aban­doned, when he hath given Cause but to question his Want of Resolution. But if Valour be necessary to a Prince to keep what he hath gotten, it is yet much more necessary to put him in pos­session of what belongs to him. He must not think, or expect, in an ordi­nary Way, that the State will render up their Forts, at least, unless they are forced to it, or are in fear of being so; they will not part with them, as long as they have a Prospect of Power to keep them. It is to no purpose to send Ambassadors to alledge Reasons; they will counter-plead them with Reasons, [Page 46] or contrary Pretences: And when the Demand he makes is very pressing, he will at last receive an Answer like to that of the Lacedaemonian Captain; the King of Persia wrote to him, Send me your Arms: He returns him this blunt Answer, viz. Come, and fetch them.

CHAP. XVI.
The same Reflections pursued.

IF it be a Truth to say, (generally speaking) that Things are preserv­ed by the same Means by which they have been acquired, we cannot doubt then, but that Courage is highly in­strumental for the Preserving, seeing it is necessary to the Raising, it self; and that the greatest Fortunes in all Ages have been wrought out by Valour. A­mongst the Roman Emperors, some from the lowest Rank, have arrived to the Purple: Many others were private Men, before they were Princes. The Empire was a long time exposed, either as the [Page 47] Reward of Courage, or as a Prey to Ambition; which, without Courage, is altogether vain and impotent. In Truth, the first Six Caesars succeeded each other by the Rights of Blood or Adoption. Vespasian, and some others, had their Children for their Successors: But how came Vespasian himself to the Throne? How came Galba, Trajan and Severus to the Sovereignty? Severus, above all others, is the greatest Instance of the Effects which are produced by Courage: He had to contest with puis­sant Rivals; and of the Four Preten­ders to the Empire, he was looked up­on to be the weakest; yet by his Va­lour he surmounted his Competitors; he flew to and fro, from one End of the Empire to another, with an Impetuo­sity always victorious: Whether he were in the Eastern Parts, or in our Countries Westward, he atchieved such great Things, that it was the Opinion of a judicious Historian, Herodian. that his Actions were not inferiour to those of Caesar.

But, to come nearer to our own Times: Have we not seen an obscure Person, a Man sprung from nothing, [Page 48] or (as we sometimes phrase it) a Son of the Earth, who routed the Turks, and brought away their Sultan Priso­ner: He rendred himself Master of all Persia, and of all the Indies; and so far advanced his Victories, that some pre­tend Tamerlain no less a Conqueror than Alexander. On the one side, if he did not possess himself of Greece, and the Provinces bordering the Helle­spont, yet, on the other side, he passed the River Ganges, and extends his Con­quest as far as the Sun-rising. His Me­mory is at this Day had in great Vene­ration amongst the Nations which he subdued; and, notwithstanding the Meanness of his Birth, many of the A­siatick Princes count it an Honour to be descended from him.

CHAP. XVII.
The Commonwealth of the La­cedaemonians maintained it self a long Time by the Laws of Lycurgus, which chiefly related to War.

THE Lacedaemonian Commonwealth subsisted a long Time, (that is to say) more than Five Hundred Years, in great Splendour: She became more formidable than either Athens, or Thebes; and was considered as the Terrour or Support of Greece, accor­ding as her Neighbours were her Ene­mies, or Allies. During so long a Time, she never wanted Enemies in Greece, or Asia; and the Wars she sustained were extreamly dangerous. Besides, she had but a small Extent of Ground, and her Capital City was without Walls; but she maintained her self by her Valour. The Laws of Ly­curgus, which chiefly related to the Af­fairs [Page 50] of War, had render'd her invin­cible; so that she was never observed to fall from this her Puissance, till Riches, which were the Spoils of their Conquests, corrupted them through A­varice, and softned them through Plea­sures. the Republick of Carthage end­ed sooner than that of Rome, for it was destroyed by it; but then, she began to be a Commonwealth sooner; so that her Continuance was no less: And in her we shall find an Example, like to that we have been relating. The Laws, indeed, of the Carthaginians were near a-kin to those of the Lace­daemonians: And there were three Sorts of People, as Aristotle remarks in his Politicks, that were guided almost by the same Form of Government; the Carthaginians, the Lacedaemonians, and the Candiots. These last were also ve­ry valiant, and by that Means they long flourished.

CHAP. XVIII.
The long Duration of Monar­chy comes from Valour.

BUT the Duration of these States comes not near Monarchy. Next to the Succours of Divine Providence, which is the principal cause of its Conservation, we may not referr it to Humane Prudence, since it must be granted, that this Vertue is not always found in any one particular Nation: It must be attributed to Valour. Per­haps, in the longest Succession of Kings, there is but few of them that History reproacheth for Want of Courage; and yet the Historians profess an Impar­tiality, both to the Good, and Bad. If we trace the Lines of remotest Mo­narchies as far as we do ours, or those most near, we shall not find one King­dom, where Courage hath been want­ing. And though some Kings have not been always Victorious, but they [Page 52] have been always Valiant; and if For­tune had been but as constant to them as Nature, they would have left no­thing for their Successours to do now, but might have made themselves Ma­sters of the Universe. The Misfortunes of King John obliged Charles, his Son, not to hazard a second Disgrace; but that Prince, who, in this, then shewed his Prudence, had before given Proof of his Courage. Lewis the Eleventh, who, towards the Latter End of his Days, had abandoned his Soul to the melancholy Terrours and Apprehen­sions of Death, never gave Testimony of such terrifying Fears in all his Wars: And one might have seen him give Personal Proofs of his Valour at the Battle of Montlheri. Henry the Third had won three Victories before he was King; which gives us to observe, that it was his Slothfulness, and not his Cowardice, which was the Cause of his unhappy Reign. He feared not the Danger of War, but he dreaded the Labour of it. He had been well satisfied to have fought every Year a Battle, provided, that after the Fight was over, he might have been per­mitted [Page 53] to spend the rest of the Year in Idleness. These are they whom Calumny may take occasion to asperse; and yet they are free from this Fault of Cowardice. The rest claim our Elogies, rather than need our Apo­logies. Prosperity sometimes failed them in the Event, and Prudence was sometimes wanting in the Enterprize; but their Courage never failed, neither in the Enterprize, nor in the Event. There were no Adventures happened to them, wherein their Valour was not shewed forth. Kings are not made Prisoners of War so long as they remain in their Palaces: But if any of them, in commanding their Armies, do fall into the Hands of their Enemies, who manage the War by their Lieutenants, it is plain, that, at the same Time they are vanquished, they have appeared more courageous than their Conquerours. Such have been the Princes from whom some are descended, who have no reason to blush for their Ancestors, nor them­selves, in Reading their History: They are found in their proper Place, when seated on their Throne: And that [Page 54] they were altogether worthy of pro­ceeding; their Successours, who have since had better Fortune: Whose De­stinies may raise in us a Compassion for them, but will never cause us to be ashamed of them.

CHAP. XIX.
The Empire of the Ancient Persians was soon expired; as also that of the Graecians. And the Reasons thereof.

AND as some Kings have been always Valiant, so have their Subjects never basely degenerated from the Principle of Courage. So that we need not wonder, that Monarchy hath preserved it self, during the Course of so many Ages; and that she promiseth her self a Duration equal to that of the Universe. On the con­trary, the Empire of the Ancient Persians [Page 55] did not long subsist, because Cyrus had those for his Successors, which were not worthy of him: They had more of Vanity, than Valour: They moved, indeed, with innumerable Armies, they poured forth Soldiers by the Millions; and, with a ridiculous Arrogance, vaun­ted, that they would shovel Mountains into the Sea, and lay Fetters upon the Ocean; and yet, after all these dread­ful Cracks, they were beaten, sunk and chased by the little Republicks of Greece. However, we may say that Darius, in whom this Empire expired, was not defective in Courage; but he had not so much as his Enemy; seeing that, though he was far stronger than he, yet, nevertheless, he was surmounted by him. When his famous Conqueror was dead, without Children, the Prin­cipal of his Captains became Kings: One had Macedonia for his Part; ano­ther, Syria; a Third, Egypt: But all these blazing Sovereignties, not falling into Hands strong enough to sustain them, were soon extinguished. Per­seus, the last King of the Macedonians, was but the Seventh in Succession from Antigonus. The Seleucides, which had [Page 56] Syria, continued no long Time. And the Ptolemey's, whose Kingdom was the last which was reduced to a Province, held not Egypt above two Ages. Their Mis­fortunes came from a Defect of Valour. Perseus, of whom we have been speak­ing, instead of shewing the Courage of a King after his Defeat, carried himself with so much Baseness, that the Gene­ral of the Roman Army was ashamed of him when he came from the Battel; apprehending that it would not be any Glory for him to conquer such a Man. And when he saw him prostrate himself unworthily at his Feet, Ah! saith he, Do not dishonour my Victory. And yet, this Carriage was less to be blamed (if possible) than that of Antiochus, of the Race of the Seleucides; to whom the Romans sent Popilius, to command him to depart out of a Country, whereinto he had entred with his main Army. So soon as he saw the Ambassador a-far off, going over his Camp, he humbly salutes him: The Ambassador, with a Fierce­ness not to be endured, comes up to him, without returning him any Salute, and delivers him a Letter from the Se­nate. Antiochus, after he had read it, [Page 57] told him, He would deliberate upon whas was to be done. Popilius presently ma­king a Circle about this Prince, with a Wand that he then had in his Hand, said to him; Deliberate if you will; but before you go out of this Circle, I expect your Answer. Here You may behold a perfect Coward: A King, who, in the midst of his Army, had received such unworthy Carriage from an Envoy; instead of being inspired with a just Indignation, consulted only his own Fears; and answered, He would do what the Romans should desire of him. As for Ptolemy, can any one be guilty of a more sordid and treacherous Action than his, when he sacrificed the great­est Infortunate to his infamous Politicks? And the better to make his Court to Caesar, makes him a Present of the Head of Pompey. All these Princes, so little worthy of their Sovereignty, did but possess part of the Conquests of Ale­xander. What became of Persia, after the Death of this great Monarch? There were but two Divisions made of those great Conquests; one by Perdic­cas, and the other by Antipater. It was in the second Division, that Baby­lon [Page 58] fell to Seleucus: He afterwards gain­ed the Army of Nicanor, Governor of Media; and being also assured of Per­sia, it was the best Division, seeing that his Empire extended it self from the Egean Sea, even to the Indies. But at last, all these Successors of Alexan­der, and their Descendants, not know­ing how to agree amongst themselves, nor how to conquer one another, it happened that, during their Dissen­sions, a valiant Parthian, named Arsa­ces, mounts the Throne, and became the Founder of one of the most puis­sant and illustrious Families that Histo­ry presents to our Remembrance. This Noble Family was not eclipsed (as o­thers were) with the Rays of the Ro­man Splendor: She gave Kings to the Eastern Nations; and investing her self, during so many Ages, with Sovereign Power, was never the Subject, but al­ways the Rival of that ambitious Re­publick. These were the Princes cal­led the Arsacides, from the Name of their illustrious Founder; who created so much Trouble to the Romans; and abated their Pride, by the mortal Dis­graces he put upon them; as, the [Page 59] Death of Crassus, the Flight of Mark Anthony, and the Slaughters or Defeats of many of their great Armies. I be­lieve there was never any but Ventidius, that triumphed over the Parthians: But the Parthians have often triumphed o­ver the Romans; though the Triumph was a Ceremony altogether Roman, and was not used amongst the Greeks: And it was their Fault they did not triumph in State, since they gained so many sig­nal Advantages over those haughty E­nemies. And certainly, we may say, the Valour of the Parthians gave Check­mate to the Ambition of the Romans. They hinder'd them from rendring themselves Masters of the Universe, (as they thought to have done:) And I doubt not, but their invincible Resi­stance was the Cause of that standing Counsel which Augustus left amongst the Secrets of Government. He re­commends it to his Successors, never to extend their Dominion beyond Euphra­tes; and to look upon that River, as the fatal Boundary of the Empire.

CHAP. XX.
A great Number of Examples in Morality amount to a Proof; and produceth al­most the same Effect, as Experience doth in Physick.

IN alledging all these Examples, I conceive, I have done what I ought; because in Things of this Nature, the Number of Examples amounts to a Proof; and almost holds the same Place in Morality, as Experiments do in Physick. If one should demand of me, Doth it never happen, that a Cowardly Nation gets a Conquest over one more valiant? I would answer, It may happen so by Accident; as, if an Army should perish by a Tempest at Sea, or by an Inundation upon Land. But these E­vents are very rare: And besides, they are foreign to the Actions of Valour.

It was a Saying of one of the An­cients, That Vertue and Fortune, although [Page 61] they are very different, yet sometimes pro­duce the very same Effects. If by Fortune, he means Providence, the Saying hath nothing surprizing in it: And we need not wonder, that God, who can do all Things, should act Things like to those that Men do, when he hath a Will to do so. But if one will speak of For­tune, considered only in respect to us, as being no other Thing than Humane Weakness meeting with an happy Suc­cess, which it neither fore-saw, nor merited, we must restrain this Propo­sition, and content our selves to say, That Fortune doth that sometimes, and but very rarely, which Vertue doth always, or, at least, generally. It is storied, That a Painter throwing his Pencil in a Rage against his Cloth, hit upon that Stroak which he had been long studying to represent. This hap­pened but once: But it happens an in­finite Number of Times, that we paint that which we have a Fancy to, if we will work gradually, and with Patience. So that this one Instance is no Argu­ment against so many others. Which shews, we have no Reason to say, that to the Drawing of Pictures, it is no [Page 62] more than to throw the Pencil against the Frame; but we ought to guide it by the Rules of Art. Though it some­times happens, that valiant Nations have been vanquished by Cowards, (though the contrary is generally true) yet the Maxim doth not fail to be cer­tain, That Princes are obliged to be valiant, for their Preservation; and that they ought to regard this Vertue, as the Force of their Empire, and the Support of their Dignity.

CHAP. XXI.
Other Arguments drawn from the Character of those who have Courage, and of those who have none.

BUT, besides; it is not impossible to support a Truth so certain as this, upon a Reasoning independent on Experience. Though a Man be igno­rant of all the Histories of the World, [Page 63] provided he doth but know the Chara­cter of Persons which have Courage, and the Character of those that have none, he will conclude, that Things ought thus to come to pass as they have done; and he will divine (as one may say) the Effects which Valour hath produced in several Nations. Indeed, he might thus argue; Either valiant People have been overcome by those which have surpassed them in Prudence, or by those which were inferior to them in Prudence, as well as in Courage. It is plain, that they have not been van­quished by the last; and it is very pro­bable, that neither have they been con­quered by the others; because the Cha­racter of Prudence without Courage is not to quarrel against Valour, but to seek her own Repose and Security by Submission; and to preferr an humble and quiet Obedience, before a restless Liberty. Accordingly, he will find this Maxim justified by History; and see a remarkable Example in the Grae­cians, after they had degenerated from the Courage of their Ancestors; and that the Posterity of those who had conquered Persia, made little or no [Page 64] Opposition against the Romans: They had always the same Inclination to the Arts, wherein they are still excellent; but they have none of that Valour left, which had been their Buckler, and their Rampart: And, instead of study­ing how to break or shake off the Yoak, they thought of nothing but to accustom themselves tamely to it: They em­ployed their Wits in nothing so much, as to flatter their Masters, whose Con­tempt they had drawn upon them­selves: They submitted more than was desired of them; and from the com­pleatest Liberty, which they once en­joyed, slipped into the most abject Sla­very. They relate to us an Adventure upon this Subject, which is fine enough: Mark Anthony sometimes took pleasure, in his Marches, to appear under the Name, and in the Equipage of that Fabulous God, whom the Pagans made to preside over Wine and Good Cheer; and who besides, (say they) was a great Conqueror, and that he pierced even as far as the Indies. From whence it came, that Alexander also affected to imitate him. This Triumvir, who had divided the Empire with Augustus, [Page 65] (for they had excluded Lepidus) ha­ving passed into Greece with an Army, and appearing in this Dress that we told you, the Athenians sent their De­puties to him, signifying, that they would acknowledge him to be the God, whose Name he had taken upon him, and whose Triumph he represented; and that they came to offer him Miner­va, the Patroness of their City, in Marriage. Mark Anthony answered them, That he accepted her for his Bride: But, at the same Time, he added, That since they would marry their Goddess to him, he doubted not but that they would be well pleased to pay him down Three Mil­lions for her Dowry. Certainly, they were astonished at the Success of their Flattery: But how great soever their Surprize was, the Money must be found; and the Athenians were forced to ex­haust their Exchequer, to pay down Minerva's Marriage-Portion. There are a Thousand Examples of this Na­ture; which were the Effects of that sordid Baseness which the Graecians fell into, by losing the Courage of their Ancestors; and which, informing us of the Character of Men when they have [Page 66] Wit without Courage, confirm the Ar­gument we have been pursuing, to de­monstrate the infallible Success of Va­lour. I did not think it needful to re­mark in this Discourse, that we are to suppose some Proportion between the Forces: In Moral Discourses, these sort of Suppositions must always be grant­ed; and though they are not expresly contained, yet they are to be supplied by an equitable Construction. In ef­fect, We know very well that the La­cedaemonians were cut in pieces by the Persians, at the Streights of Thermopylae: But what could Three Hundred Sol­diers do against an Army of more than Ten Hundred Thousand? They did all that Men could do; they sold their Lives at a dear Rate, slew a vast Num­ber of Persians, and put their Main Bo­dy into Disorder; insomuch that the King of Sparta pushed on to the very Tent of Xerxes: But they fore-saw well enough, that they should be over-pow­red by a Multitude: And they might have said then, what some have made them say since, Diutius possunt perire, quam nos vincere. We suppose then, that there should be amongst the For­ces, [Page 67] either if not an entire Equality, yet, at least, some Proportion. If we rest upon this Foundation, the Refle­ctions that we have made, will be ac­knowledged to be true; and we shall find, that it is humanely impossible that courageous People should be surmount­ed by others; and that Valour should not render her self Mistress of the World.

CHAP. XXII.
A Prince may be considered in reference to Five Sorts of Persons: And to maintain himself in all these different Respects, he hath need of Valour.

BUT we must dwell a little longer upon these Considerations; which ought to be the more agreeable to a valiant Prince, seeing that we are na­turally [Page 68] pleased to apply Inclination to Duty; and to do that by the free and ingenuous Motions of our Souls, out of Choice, which we are obliged to do out of Necessity. A King may then be considered in reference to Five Sorts of Persons; of Soldiers, of Subjects, of Al­lies, of Enemies, and of those which are purely Strangers, without any of those other Respects. When he renders him­self illustrious by true Valour, he in­spires into his Soldiers Courage, into his Subjects Affection, into his Allies Confidence, into his Enemies Fear, and into all others Esteem and Respect. The Roman Dictator never fought, but with the Infantry; to let them under­stand, that Danger was equal to him, with his Troops; and renouncing all Possibility of a Retreat, he did not di­vide his Thoughts between Conquering and Fleeing, but between Victory or Death. A Graecian Captain, leading his Soldiers through a very difficult Pass, Zenophon. where they were to climb a steep Hill, which he had already gained, marching at the Head of them, he exhorts them not to be dis-heartned at the Difficulties, but [Page 69] to do their best Endeavours to follow him. He that was the foremost of them, answered him: You speak freely, Sir; and to your own Sence: You are on horse-back, I am on foot; and besides, I carry a very heavy Buckler. The Captain hearing this, a lights immediately from his Horse, gives the Soldier his Hand, and carries his Buckler for him. This soon wrought a wonderful Emulation amongst the rest; who, when they were got to the Top of the Hill, re­proached the Soldier for his Insolence, and conjured their Officer to give him back his Buckler, and to mount his Horse. This Captain was not a Prince: I leave You to consider how passionate­ly the Soldiers had been affected, if a Sovereign had done such an Action. When a Soldier sees that his Prince ex­poseth his Royal Person, this Sight cannot but strangely animate him, and force from him such Reflections as these: Behold a Prince who hath a Crown to lose, and yet hazards his Life: Why should I then, who am but a Soldier of Fortune, and who have no Estate but my Sword; why, I say, should I study to save my inconsiderable self, after so great an [Page 70] Example? As for his other Subjects, who are not engaged in Military Ser­vice, they have also sensible Considera­tions, which extreamly touch them: They consider they are at Ease and Se­curity in their own Houses, during the Time that their Prince, to maintain them in their Tranquility, undergoes a Thousand Fatigues, and is confronted by a Thousand Dangers: They think with themselves, that he is not obliged, but that he may stay at home in his Pa­lace, and enjoy his Royal Repose; but yet he will command his Armies him­self, and will not be diverted from this Design, neither for the Hazards he must run, nor for the Pains he must en­dure. It is impossible but that such Considerations, which are inspired e­ven by common Sence, should be pre­sented to their Minds, and enter into the Bottom of their Souls, and fill them full with Love, Zeal and Gratitude for the Person of their Sovereign. Who does not presently see the Effects which the Valour of a Prince will produce in the Spirits of his Allies, by their confi­ding in him? And in those of his Ene­mies, by their Fears? The Principle [Page 71] we have setled upon the Difference be­tween Policy and Morality obligeth us to believe, that Alliances between States are rather founded upon Interests, than any private Friendship: They never seek for Alliances, but with those who are capable to serve, or to hurt them. The Ancient Persians knew well how to make use of this Distinction: When an Ambassador was sent to them, from the Lacedaemonians, they entertained him with another manner of Reception, than the Envoys which came from the other Republicks of Greece. What shall we say of those wonderful Effects which the Reputation of valiant Prin­ces hath produced, and whereof Hi­story hath furnished us with such a Multitude of Examples? It has hap­pened a Thousand Times, that their very Names only have caused Forts to be speedily surrendred, which were a­ble to have maintained a long Siege, and have put to flight those Armies which had Forces sufficient to have overcome the Pursuers.

As to those who are neither Soldiers nor Subjects, neither Allies nor Enemies to a valiant Prince, they entertain the [Page 72] Noise of his Renown, and the News of his Exploits, with Admiration; they have no Thoughts to engage in any War against him, but rather to seek the Aids of his Protection: They are a­fraid of becoming his Enemies, and co­vet nothing more, than to be his Allies. Nay, they even wish sometimes to be his Soldiers, or his Subjects, that they might participate of his Glory. They offer up a Thousand Vows to Heaven, for such a Prince of their own; and when they cannot obtain one like him, they are so far transported, as to wish that he were their Master.

CHAP. XXIII.
If a Prince, when he is enga­ged in a War, be bound to do it in Person.

IT is little to the purpose to say, that the King may wage War by his Lieutenants: For, besides that no Per­son [Page 73] can ever be so well assured of the Fidelity that others have for him, as he is assured of the Fidelity that he has for himself; the Prince is the Soul of the Army; his Presence is that Plastick Power, which inspires Life, Activity and Vigour into them; so that nothing in the World is able to compensate so great a Benefit. Farther, I know not whether Sovereigns can be dispensed with from this important Function; and if they are not obliged to com­mand their Armies in Person, when they have not other weighty Reasons to the contrary. This Question hath never been stirred, but upon the Score of Po­licy: It concerns us here to treat of it in the Moral Consideration; either for that if there lies an Obligation of Con­science upon them, the Difficulty is soon at an End, and there remains no more Place for Politick Deliberations; or be it, that this Reflection is abso­lutely necessary for the Prosecution of our Subject. Indeed, If we can ima­gine that a Prince is never obliged to make War in Person, we may draw this Consequence then, That he is never ob­liged to be valiant. Our Religion gives [Page 74] us Light in this, which the Pagans had not; it clearly discovers those Truths to us, which were unknown to them, or which they knew but by some glim­mering Interviews, and of which they never spake, but with Hesitancy. Two Principles must be granted: First, That it is God who hath established Kings. The other is, That he hath established them to govern and defend the People. We must also grant a Third Principle, which is, That in all Professions in the World, from the lowest to the highest, when a Thing to be done is the End of the Profession, those who are called to those Professions are obliged to do it themselves; otherwise, Men will shuf­fle off their Duties one to another, and no one would mind his proper Business, or (to use a more Christian Expres­sion) follow his Vocation. Now, If it be certain that God hath not raised up Kings, but to govern and defend their People; and if it is as certain, that they are obliged to govern and defend them by themselves; then we must grant, that in all important Occasions wherein they are to acquit themselves of this their Duty, they are obliged to [Page 75] do it in Person. Let us add, to put an End to this Argument, That there can­not be offered more important Occa­sions, than those of War. These Ma­xims are of so great Truth, that if a Sovereign, by his Presence only, could put a Stop to a Contagious Pestilence, which is sometimes compared to War; and by the Communications of its poy­sonous Effluviums, hath frequently made sweeping Desolations in the World; he ought to expose himself thereunto, and thereby to relieve the publick Calamity of his Subjects; and he is obliged to it, even by the Office of his Sovereignty. But Kings are not bred up Doctors; they cannot admini­ster Medicines against the Plague: There is need of Physicians to cure their Bodies, and Spiritual Pastors to take care of the Salvation of their Souls. Whereupon, we may say in some manner, That as in a Time of this Epidemical Distemper, although the Bishops substitute Church-men to hold their Places, and to do their Fun­ctions; yet they are not left at liberty, but at such a Time they ought to visit in Person: And Non-residency is un­pardonable. [Page 76] So Princes, though they may have able Captains in their Realms, yet they are not therefore dispensed with from making their Wars in Per­son. But, to give a greater Light to this Reflection, let us distinguish be­tween three Sorts of Things, in respect of the Actions of Kings: Those which he cannot do, but by himself: Those Things which he cannot do, but by another: And those Things which he may do, either by himself, or others. There is no Question of those Things which he cannot do, but by himself, that he is plainly obliged: Neither can there be any Dispute about such Things which he cannot do, but by another; it is as plain, that therein he is dispen­sed with. So that the Difficulty rests only on those Things which he may do, either by himself, or by another. If he will not do them himself, I demand, Wherein consists the Merit of his Obe­dience which he ought to render to God, and of answering the End of his Vocation? It is not in those Things which he cannot do, but by himself; for he is constrained to do them, and Necessity leaves him no Room for [Page 77] Choice. On the other Side, I demand, what are the Things a King cannot do, but by himself? If we search into the Particulars, it will be hard to find any: And we shall see, that it is almost impos­sible to imagine any Thing in the Con­duct of a State, which the King (ge­nerally speaking) may not devolve up­on others. If it were then permitted him to make use of this Liberty in its utmost Extent, the Consequence will be, that he need never to take notice of the Complaints of his Subjects, or redress their Grievances; he need ne­ver administer Justice, or pass any Acts of Grace himself; and, in a Word, he may then reign always, and in all Things, by another. What would Kings say, if after they have nomina­ted one of their Subjects General of the Army, and this Man should only be Ge­neral Sit-still at home, and chuse ano­ther to command the Troops in his stead? Now, a Monarch is nominated and appointed a General by the Sove­reign of the World, the Lord of Hosts: He, in like manner, commits the same Offence against God, when he will not himself command in Person in his Mili­tary [Page 76] [...] [Page 77] [...] [Page 78] Undertakings, but assigns to other Hands all the Care and Conduct of the War. This Opinion may, perhaps, be thought singular, but it appears to me to be rationally grounded, and I am fully persuaded of the Truth of it. It is true, there may be some Exce­ptions; as, If the Intestine Affairs of the State require the Presence of the Prince at home; and that it were im­possible for him to be absent, without hazarding the Safety of his Kingdom. But the greatest of these Exceptions, is, that of Offensive Wars; there the Prince is not obliged to command in Person, because he doth not then act in the De­fence of his People: But since the Pre­servation of his Subjects ought to be the Aim of his Actions, the same Reason which obligeth him to make War, ob­ligeth him to do it in Person. But set­ting aside that Exception, and some few others, whereof a dis-interested Pru­dence ought to be Judge, I believe, that the actual Command of the Army is not only the Glory, but the Duty of Kings; and that they are thereunto obliged, by an indispensible Consequence upon the Sovereign Dignity.

CHAP. XXIV.
Valour is necessary for a Prince, to render his Condition a­greeable.

VAlour is yet farther necessary for a Prince, to render his Condition pleasant. We shall easily understand this Maxim, as a Consequence of those we have already established, if we con­sider, it is very difficult for a Prince to live happily, if he be not in a Condi­tion to live honourably, and to autho­rize his own Security. The Principles of Honour, which are impressed on the Souls of Men, and above all, on those of Kings, are an inexhaustible Source of Joy to those who comply with them, and a continual Torment to those who are not conformable to them. A So­vereign is jealous of his Authority, and hath Reason so to be, since it is God who hath bestowed it on him. But when he is not able to support his Dig­nity himself, this Jealousie serves but to [Page 80] torment him the more: He bemoans his Destiny, either in publick, or pri­vate: He finds, Fortune hath betrayed him, in lifting him up; and he loves not that Theatre, where he is obliged to represent a Personage greater than himself: His Crown is too heavy for him, and his Throne is all stuck with Thorns. Hence it is, that the Hearts of Kings are crowded with Distrusts, Terrours, Irresolutions, and Angers, which sometimes burst out into Cruel­ties; and their Griefs turn into Fury. As they fear all Men, so they would that all Men should fear them; and seeing they cannot render themselves venerable by their Vertue, they think to appear terrible by their Vices. Hi­story oftentimes hath much a-do to un­ravel these sorts of Motives; those which are led by them, do not boast of them; they palliate their Injustice and Violences, under other Pretences; yet however, their Artifices are not able to prevent their Discovery. We know by what Motives the Nero's and the Do­mitians were acted, when they did rid themselves of the greatest Personages of their Time. We know, I say, that [Page 81] under Cowardly Princes, Impunity is not always the Effect of Innocence; and that oftentimes great and extraor­dinary Merit passeth with them for a Capital Crime. They are sure to fol­low a Conduct like that of the Repub­licks of Ephesus and Athens, who pra­ctised the Ostracism; and by a long Exile, disgraced the Glory of their most famous Citizens, even at the same Time that their Fidelity and Love for their Country had rendred them illu­strious. What Pleasure or Repose can a Prince enjoy, whose Soul is ruffled with such irregular Disorders; hating the loyalest of his Subjects, and fear­ing the least formidable of his Enemies? It is then, his Imagination grows big, and multiplies Dangers. The least ill News puts him into a Consternation, and is as mortal Alarms to him. A small Force levied in a Foreign Nation, appears to him as numerous an Invasion as the Armies of Xerxes or Daxius. The impertinent Folly of some private Male-contents, which murmur against the Government, seems to him no less than a total Revolt, contrived long be­fore-hand; and portends a general In­surrection [Page 82] throughout the whole King­dom. Every Thing makes him suspi­cious: He is top-full of Fears, within and without: A Sense of his ill Con­duct at home, and of his ill-managed Transactions abroad, supply him with a continual Series of Uneasiness. He is become a Scene of Misery: And we can­not say, whether he is disquieted more with a Disgust of Things present, or with the Apprehension of what is to come.

CHAP. XXV.
Important Reflections upon the Idaea which the Ancients have conceived of Valour, not only in respect to the Dangers of War, but of all other Things which may create Fear or Grief.

WE shall better understand how this Vertue is necessary to the [Page 83] Repose of Princes, if we take the No­tion of it in the whole Extent, as the Ancients did: They considered it, in general, as the Force of the Soul, and gave it really the Name of Force: By which they understood, that this forti­fies a Man with Assurance, not only in respect of the Dangers of War, but of all other Things which may be the Ob­jects of Fear. When one of them tells us, that the Cymbrians were hardy in their Combats, and fearful in their Sickness; and that the Greeks, on the contrary, looked upon Death with Horrour in a Field of Battel, but wait­ed for it with Resolution in their Beds; this Philosopher speaking after this manner, lets us know, that the Cou­rage of both these Nations was imper­fect. We cannot make a better Judg­ment of the Sentiments they had of Valour, than by the Definitions they have given of it. What is Valour? It is (saith an Ancient) a voluntary and considerate Resolution to expose ones self to Dangers, and to undergo Hardship. For­titudo est considerata periculorum susceptio, & laborum perpessio. Valour (saith ano­ther) is the Pursuit we make after a solid [Page 84] Advantage, through Dangers and Labours which we must surmount in the Acquest of it. Fortitudo est contemptio laboris & pe­riculi, cum ratione utilitatis, & compensa­tione commodorum. One Sect of Philo­sophers also defined this Vertue after this manner: Fortitudo est ratio negligen­dae mortis, perpetiendique doloris. Valour is that which enables us to suffer Pain, and despise Death. In fine, all others have spoke to the same Sence: And I can as­sure You, without fear of abusing You in this Point, that there is not one of them which hath limited Valour to the Dangers of War only. We have two Reflections here to make: The First is, That the Word which generally enters into their Definitions, and which they joyn with that of Danger, doth equally signifie Labour and Pain, because they follow the Ideom of the Greek Lan­guage; which, although it be very co­pious, useth one and the same Word to express Do­lour and Labour. [...]. The Se­cond Consideration, which we must not forget, is, to take notice that the Idaea's which they formed of Valour, are de­duced from the Doctrine of Aristotle; [Page 85] who, in truth, had received them from the Principles of the Academy; who having distinguished divers Faculties in the Soul of Man, he there placed (or gave Leave to his excellent Com­mentators to do it) the four Vertues: Prudence in the Understanding, Justice in the Will, Valour in that which they call Irascible, and Temperance in the other. Now, it is certain, that Ira­scible doth not only respect Military Dangers, but it has for its Object all the Rancounters of this Life, either ter­rible, painful, or difficult. According to these Principles, the Ancients attribute the very same Epithets of Commenda­tion to the two Scipio's, to Fabius Maxi­mus, and Aemylius, for having supported great Afflictions, as well as for winning of Battels. And they give us to under­stand, that if Marius did exercise his Courage in the midst of Arms, he also exercised the same Courage, when he endured a violent Operation of Chi­rurgery, without complaining; and in the midst of exquisite Pains, remained firm and unmoveable. I see we have much a-do to bend our Language to this Sence: We do not say, a Man suf­fers [Page 86] Affliction valiantly; but we say, he suffers it with Constancy. It mat­ters not for Words, provided we agree upon Things. In this Notion of Va­lour, comprizing an Undauntedness in Battels, and a steady Resolution in all the other Accidents of Life, Princes may be informed of a Character which is very becoming of, and expedient for them. If they do not keep up this Force and Assurance of Mind, they will be injurious to themselves on many Oc­casions: They will not be able to main­tain the Glory of their Exploits in their other Actions; but, in many Things, will discover, that they are tainted with the low Opinions and Errours of vul­gar Souls: It will appear, that they were raised, not by their Vertue, but their Fortune: In short, There will many Occasions happen, where their Weakness will betray their Dignity. It is Admiration, and not Pity, that the Grandeur of Kings calls for. No­thing is more undecent, than to shed Tears upon a Throne; nothing is so contemptible, as a puling Sovereign. Monarchs ought not to appear intimida­ted, Crest-fallen, or surprized: They [Page 87] should settle their Minds in such a fixed State, as not to stand in need of Con­solation; or if they do need it, they ought to seek for it (as one once said) in the Bosom of the Commonwealth. When a Prince is of this Disposition, he ren­ders his Life truly easie; and finds not only Repose, but Joy, in the midst of Labours: It sweetens the Bitterness of Adventures, though never so vexatious; it turns all the Thorns of the Crown in­to fragrant Flowers. I thought it my Duty, not to forget these Reflections in this Discourse, although it was designed particularly to consider Valour in refe­rence to the Profession of War; where­in, if I conformed my self to our Mo­dern Way, yet I am not very far wan­dred from the Maxims of the Ancient Moralists. In short, Those who have handled Valour in the largest Extent, yet will be sure to inform us, that Mili­tary Courage is the principal Part of it; and that it shines brightest, above all, in the Occasions of War, where the most apparent Dangers reign ram­pant, and which are big with Things most capable to inspire Fear. So that Valour, above all, relates to War, as [Page 88] War does to Fighting, which is the End of the Functions of that Discipline. The Roman Soldiers were never idle, they underwent more Pains than the most laborious Mechanicks; and by this Means they arrived at those great Performances, the Memory and Foot­steps whereof astonish us at this Day: But they laboured as Soldiers, not as Mechanicks; and never quitted the Mi­litary Character. Hence it was, that Corbulon was so severe, that he punish­ed a Soldier with Death, because he was carrying Earth without having his Sword on. Hence it was, that the Ob­ligation of Fighting never ceased, un­til the Military Oath was altogether broken; whereas before they might have been discharged from other Obli­gations. To understand this well, we must remember, that the Romans had two sorts of Conge's or Dismission from the Wars: One which they called Mis­sio; and that permitted the Soldiers to­tally to quit the Wars, and to return to their own Homes: The other they called Exauctoratio; which dispensed with the Soldiers from their Military Employments, but still they were ob­liged [Page 89] not to be far distant from the Ar­my: Those who had this sort of Li­cense lived out of the Precincts of the Camp; they lived after what manner they pleased, so long as they had no­thing actually to do against the Enemy; but when Occasion presented it self, they joyned with the other Roman Sol­diers who lodged in the Camp, and all engaged together in the Battel.

CHAP. XXVI.
The Pleasures of Princes are Military Pleasures.

'TIS from this Relation that Valour hath to War, and War to Bat­tel, that the noblest Games have, in all Times, been the Representations of that Profession, and of this Vertue. There was never any Thing so celebra­ted in the World, as the Olympian Games; there used to be a general Con­course of all Greece; and he who won the Prize, not only made his Entrance, [Page 90] as it were, in Triumph into the Town where he was born, but he had this farther Honour done him, that the Year of his Victory bore his Name; for the Annals were directed after this manner, The Year wherein such an one was Victor in the Olympick Games, it happened that—We cannot doubt but that the Representations of Valour and War were very lively in the Solemnities of these Games. 'Twas for this Rea­son that, after they were ended, there appeared a War-horse in the midst of the Course. One of the Ancients hath observed, that for the same Reason the Exercise of Wrestling always went be­fore that of Running; because Wrest­ling represents the hot Engagement of the Fight, as the Race represents the Pursuit. The Romans, that their Spe­ctacula might the better resemble War, would have them all to be dangerous and bloody; not only in the private Combats of the Gladiators, but also in those they called the Naumachies, which were the Representations of Sea-Fights. The most famous of all was that which was given them by the Emperor Clau­dius: They filled an immense Space [Page 91] with Water, which represented the Sea, and caused an Hundred Ships to be floating thereon, which were Man­ned with Twenty Thousand Malefa­ctors, or (as one may say) Slaves of Torment. This Multitude, thus con­demned to kill one another, might have been capable of acting strange Things, had they once turned their Despair against the Spectators: But to prevent such an Attempt, this artificial Lake was hemm'd in with another Ar­my; and over those Troops, ranged in Battalia, sat the Emperor and his Courtiers, in the highest Places of the Amphitheatre. Then the Signal was given, and these Hundred Ships, being divided into two Fleets, came to grap­ple, and entred into a stiff and bloody Engagement. We must confess, these Sights were very inhumane; the Lives of Men are too precious to be sported away, and to be sacrificed to a Diver­sion. Princes have wisely renounced these sorts of Pleasures; and those which they have retained are purely military. Hunting is a kind of War: The Carousels, Tilts and Tournaments are the Images of Combats: The Shews [Page 92] in the Theatre have something of this, and commonly act some Hero, who hath been famous for Valour. Besides, in the most profound Peace, the Prince appears in the Equipage of War; he is surrounded with his Troops of Guards; those with whom he frequently conver­seth, are the Officers which command them; they exercise their Soldiers be­fore his Face; they every Day demand the Word of him; they daily render him an Account of their Functions, and entertain him with nothing so much, as what relates to their own Profession. When he makes a Journey, it is rather the March of an Army, than a Pro­gress: The Order they then observe is not much different from the Milita­ry Discipline. The Entries which he makes into the Towns, are like to the Intradoes of a Conqueror; they salute him by the Mouths of their Canons, and whole Vollies complement his Wel­come; they erect Triumphal Arches for him, and strew his Way with Palms and Lawrels. Thus the Fortune of a Prince continually advertiseth him, that he ought to be valiant; insomuch, that if he fail in this Vertue, he can take no [Page 93] Pleasure in any Thing about him; and so, not taking any Pleasure, he must needs be miserable.

CHAP. XXVII.
Every Vertue hath a Pleasure which is proper to it: But this of Valour is the most sensible of all.

BUT if he delight in the Images and Representations of Valour, without loving Valour it self, he will be always deprived of the Joy that at­tends this Vertue. Every Vertue is ac­companied with a Pleasure which is peculiar and proper to it: and if she meets sometimes with Thorns, yet she never fails to crown her self with Flowers; and her Actions are all agree­able of themselves, or, to use the Ex­pressions of some of the Ancients on this Argument, voluptuous. All the Philosophers have owned this for a [Page 94] Truth; not excepting those, whose Maxims were the most cried down. One cannot do a greater Injury to Ver­tue, than in establishing Pleasure to be the End of Man: Yet notwithstanding, those Persons who speak after this man­ner, will give us leave to search for Pleasure in the Exercises of Valour. According to this Principle, generally acknowledged, true Liberality in di­spensing her Gifts, never sustains Loss; she pays her self by her own Hands, in procuring the Pleasure which she re­lisheth; and though she may meet with ungrateful Wretches, (which are but too common in the World) yet she sees they do themselves the Wrong, and is sorry for them, without com­plaining of them. One may say the same of all the other Vertues: Valour is that which hath the most sensible Pleasure; and which triumphs not on­ly with the greatest Majesty, but with the most affable Gentleness. Nature, or rather Providence, will have it so, to sweeten the Labours of a Vertue the most painful; and to keep us from be­ing discouraged at the Sight of the Fa­tigues which accompany it, and the [Page 95] Dangers which surround it. But Chri­stian Morality furnisheth us with a fa­mous Instance on this Subject: She in­cludes Martyrdom under the Notion of Valour; and considers them who have suffered, as Champions, or as Heroes, victorious over Pain and Death. The First Fruits of the Joys of Hea­ven never appear so visible, as in the Martyrs; who went to the Dens, Stakes and Gibbets with a smiling Countenance, and who felt Transports of Joy in the midst of their Torments. Although they frequently received ex­traordinary Assistances from Almighty God, yet let us not doubt, but that the inward Satisfaction of Soul which at­tends vertuous Actions, did contribute much to this their Behaviour. But now, to speak here only of Military Valour, I believe I ought not to forget what one once said of Valour, That it was the only Vertue which had a kind of Fury with it. And it is remarkable, that those Things to which the Philo­sophers have attributed Fury, are ac­companied with greater Pleasure than all others. Poesie is of this Number: We must grant, that this is that Part [Page 96] of Learning, which is sweet and char­ming. We may say, in a manner, that Valour is amongst the Vertues, as Poe­sie is amongst the Sciences: She has her Inspirations, and her Enthusiasms too: She elevates and soars above Nature it self. And, indeed, doth there not seem something more than humane in the famous Camillus, who was called the Second Founder of Rome; who, when his Thigh was pierced with an Arrow, he wrested it out of the Wound himself; and after this, as if he had been cured on the sudden, or that he never minded it, he falls upon the Ene­my, and continues the Battel? Brasidas the Lacedaemonian did something more; he not only drew out the Dart which had entred his Body, but revenged his Wound by the Death of his Enemy that gave it. It is reported, that two Ar­mies being engaged, there happened an Earthquake where the Field of Battel was, and the Soldiers perceived it not; as if they all had been under an Aliena­tion of Mind, and were (as we may say) possessed with the Daemon of War; it was not possible for them to regard any other Thing than the Action they were [Page 97] engaged in, and the Means of carrying the Victory.

There are yet other Reasons of this extraordinary Pleasure, which Valour bestows upon those who follow her Im­pulses, and practise the Exercises there­of. First, The Grandeur of the Ef­fects which she produceth; as, the Ta­king of Towns and Provinces, the Sub­version or Elevation of Empires; and, in a Word, the Catastrophe's which hap­pen upon the Theatre of War, where we not only see Men who represent Kings, but where Kings themselves are Actors. Besides, Vertues are agreeable and pleasant, in that they make us vi­ctorious, either over others, or over our selves: Over our selves, in sur­mounting our Passions; over others, in abhorring the bad Examples, or in ad­vancing us above the Good. All the Victories of the other Vertues are ob­scure, in Comparison to those of Va­lour; which shews that she must be Mi­stress of all other Passions less generous, since that, maugre their Counsel, she exposeth her self to the most terrible of all Things. She not only keeps at a Di­stance from the Examples of Cowards, [Page 98] but her very Presence puts them to flight; and forcing the Resistance of others, she reaps those Advantages, whereof our Eyes are Witnesses. In short, she opens a large Field to all the other Vertues, and furnisheth us with a copious Argument to exercise Justice, Liberality, Clemency and Moderation on: Insomuch that the Pleasures which accompany them being joyned together, the Result is a Joy, the greatness where­of is scarcely to be conceived, and ne­ver to be expressed.

The End of the First Book.

CHAP. I.
Valour ought to be accompanied with Justice.

PLutarch saith, there is a great Dif­ference between valiant Men. If he makes this Difference to consist in the Degree, that they are more or less valiant, there is nothing of Difficulty in it: Or if he understands it of the Manner of making War, we should ea­sily apprehend his Sense. But he doth not mean so neither. He placeth this Difference in the Valour it self; and he alledgeth the Example of Alcibiades and Epaminondas, as of two Men valiant to the highest Pitch: But they were not so after the same manner. In the mean Time, Morality teacheth us, that Va­lour is one and the same; and conse­quently, it must be said, that between two valiant Men, considered purely as valiant, there is rather a Resemblance, than any Opposition. To give a true Sense then to the Maxim of Plutarch, it is necessary that we ground it upon [Page 110] the Circumstances which ought to ac­company Valour. The Example of these two Men which he propounds, leads us naturally to this Explication. Epaminondas was a Person of a sincere Probity; and his Valour was animated by this Motive. On the other side, Al­cibiades sacrificed all to his Ambition; and, the better to accomplish his Ends, never examined whether the Means were just, or unjust. This appears, not only by the Conduct of his whole Life, but by an Expression that fell from him once, at Pericles's House, whither he went to give him a Visit: When they told him he was not to be spoke with, for that he was busie in making up his Accounts for the Athe­nians; saith he, Would not he do better to study a Way how not to give up his Ac­counts? Now, though this Athenian had a most daring Courage, and had signalized himself in the Wars by A­ctions of the utmost Bravery, yet his Reputation was not so clear as that of the famous Theban, who was so illu­strious for his Vertues, that those that knew best how to judge of his Merit, did unanimously agree to place him in [Page 111] the first Rank of Heroes, not only of his City, but of his Nation; and to re­gard him as the greatest Man that ever Greece brought forth.

CHAP. II.
The Ancient Romans made a Difference between two of their most formidable Ene­mies, in considering one as a just Prince, and the other as a Man without Faith.

THE Reflection we have made is confirmed by the Difference which the Ancient Romans put between two the most formidable Enemies they ever had; Pyrrhus, and Hannibal. They considered the First, as a Prince who had Faith and Equity; and whom they never mentioned, but with Esteem. They considered the Second, as a Ca­ptain cruel and perfidious; and they [Page 112] never spake of him, but with Despight and Execration. We may observe the same Difference amongst the Conquests which the Romans made. The most intelligent of them, if they did advise the Destruction of Carthage, yet would not approve of that of Corinth. And although the advantageous Situation of these two Places was equally capable to eclipse the Glory of their City, and to draw the Seat of the Empire either into Greece or Africa, yet they esteem­ed the Surname of Achaicus was not so glorious to Mummius, as the Surname of Africanus was to Scipio: And that if it were just to demolish Carthage, and to punish her for the Mischiefs she had done in Italy; yet it was not just to in­flict the same Penalty upon Corinth, from whom they never received any considerable Injury.

CHAP. III.
Just Wars must be justly ma­naged. What sort of Wars are just: And what is requi­site to make a War justly.

VAlour is blame-worthy when it fights against Justice. Duella ju­sta justè gerunto: Just Wars must be just­ly managed. All is comprised in these two Words. Wars are just when they are made for the Reparation of Injuries received, or for the Preservation of our lawful Rights; to which we may add, or for the Defence of our Allies. They are made justly, when Faith is kept in the Management, and Peace is propounded for the End. Pacem habe­re debet voluntas, bellum necessitas, saith St. Augustine. It would, indeed, be a strange Thing, if one should imagine that we were permitted to make War for War's sake, to exercise Violences and Cruelties, and to revel in Blood and Slaughter. Peace is a Thing which [Page 114] is absolutely good: War is not so, but upon certain Conditions. War (I say) ought to be considered as a Remedy which we ought not to make use of, but in Cases of the last Extremity, and which tends to the Preservation or (as we may say) the Health of the Bo­dy Politick. It may be compared to the violent Operations of Chirurgery, which makes Application of Knives and Fire to the Body of Man; but they are not designed to torment him, but to cure him. Farther, Faith ought to be kept. We know not how to ex­cuse the Perfidiousness of Hannibal, at the Battel of Thrasymene: After ha­ving won a Victory over the Romans, whose General was slain upon the Place, he perceived a Body of the Infantry, of Six Thousand Men, who had gained an advantageous Fort, and that it was difficult to force them: He sent to them to surrender; and, indeed, they did surrender upon Terms; but, in­stead of performing what he had pro­mised, they had no sooner laid down their Arms, but he put them all to the Edge of the Sword. The Stratagem which he made use of in the Battel of [Page 115] Cannae was not altogether so unjust; yet I have heard him condemned for it by some Persons, who, without doubt, will be thought too nice and scrupulous by Men of the Sword: He sent Five Hundred Numidian Horse, who pre­sented themselves to the Consul Mar­cus Terentius Varro, as being willing to desert, and come over to him. The Consul put them in the Rear of the Roman Army; but afterwards, when they came to engage, and the Battel grew hot, the Numidians made it ap­pear, that their Desertion was but feigned; for, turning their Arms a­gainst the Romans, they promoted the greatest Slaughter, in one of the bloo­diest Battels that ever was fought. When Princes do not wage just Wars, or manage them justly, 'tis to no pur­pose for them to have Advantages and Success in Military Undertakings; they are miserable still; for Vice is the greatest of all Misfortunes: And an unjust Victory hath with Reason been called an illustrious Crime. Occisarum gentium gloriosum scelus, Sen.

CHAP. IV.
Valour without Justice is not a Vertue, no more than Pru­dence.

VAlour is then rather worthy of Blame than Praise, when she is not accompanied with Justice: She then loseth her Merit, and her Loveli­ness; she degenerates from the Noble­ness of her Original, and sowres into a Vice; or, at least, ceaseth to be a Vertue. So it is of Prudence, when she becomes unjust: When she doth not keep up to her proper End, in­stead of carrying out the Spirit of a Man to the Performance of dexterous and commendable Actions, she con­ducts, or rather bewilders him by the Shifts and Windings of Cunning, Im­posture, and Infidelity; for we cannot give it more honourable Names. We do not call those vertuous or prudent, who are possessed of these sorts of En­dowments. All their florid Parts be­get [Page 117] get not any Esteem, Amity, or Confi­dence; but, on the contrary, they en­gender Fear, Contempt, and Aversion: And we are so far from chusing such to be our Guides, that we stand upon our Guard against their Advices, and con­sider them as dangerous Shelves and Snares. Valour is no less strangely changed, when she is allied to Inju­stice; she forfeits all her Reputation by such contagious Company, and in­stead of attracting Men's Vows and Ac­clamations, she extorts their Reproa­ches and Imprecations. We may ap­ply to Valour the Saying of a Prince, concerning Constancy; who under­standing that some Persons guilty of the foulest Enormities endured the Rack with incredible Resolution, These Men, saith he, must needs be impudent Sinners, who employ so good a Thing as Constancy, to shore up their evil Actions. We do not therefore call them valiant, who devote their Courage to Injustice; and instead of opposing Violence, com­mit it; and being obliged to serve as Asylums and Protectors of the Innocent, become their Enemies and Persecutors. If the Out-braving of Perils, and De­fiance [Page 118] of Death, must needs merit the Name of Valiant, then we may allow it to those unhappy Wretches, who not only despise Death, but seek for it; and being seized with the Excess of Desparation, or a Transport of Frenzy, lay violent Hands on them­selves, and become their own Execu­tioners. It appears by this, that the Actions of Heroes require something more, than to expose a Man's self to Danger, and the Contempt of Death it self: Though that seems to be the Heighth of Courage, yet it is not true Valour; at least, it is no part of the Motive wherewith it ought to be ani­mated; that is, the preferring the Sense of true Honour before our own Lives. According to these Principles, though the Saying of Agesilaus was ex­cellent, when to one who demanded of him how he came to perform such great Exploits, he answered, It was by despising Death: Yet, not to abuse this noble Thought, it is necessary that we add another Saying of Cato the Elder; who tells us, In the Perils of War, he makes a great Difference between those that love Vertue, and those who are weary of [Page 119] their Lives. Indeed, it must be the Love of Vertue that animates Valour, and the principal Wheel that puts it into its due Motions. Zeal for Justice ought not only to be the Pretence, but the Cause of War: And a Prince is ob­liged to have the same Motive in prose­cuting his Enemies by his Arms, as in arraigning Offenders by his Laws; for his Enemies are looked upon as convict­ed Criminals, the Declaration of War is their Sentence of Condemnation; and because this Sentence cannot be so easily executed as the others, he sends his Armies to be his Sheriffs and Execu­tioners. And the same Effect which the Punishment of a private Criminal hath on a Nation, the Punishment of a Nation hath on the Universe; or, as we may say, in the great Republick of the World.

CHAP. V.
Examples against the strange Errour of those, who believe the exact Practice of Justice to be an Obstacle to Valour.

AND yet, notwithstanding all this, some Men there are in the World, who imagine, that the exact practising of Justice is an Obstacle to Valour. If, in the fixed Humour whereinto this fundamental Errour hath cast their Minds, they are not capable to be dis­abused by Reasons, they ought to be cured by Examples. Marcus Aurelius is the most famous amongst the Em­perors, for Vertue purely Humane. St. Lewis is the most renowned amongst all Kings, for Christian Piety. They were both very valiant. St. Lewis was the first that descended from Ship­board, into Egypt, in the sight of the Enemy; he fought with incredible Ob­stinacy in that Fight, where he lost his Liberty: And, during his Imprison­ment, [Page 121] he discovered such a noble Assu­rance of Mind, that the Prince of the Barbarians being near Death, the Ad­miration that they had for the Vertue of their generous Captive, put them upon Deliberation whether they should not chuse him for their Sovereign. As for Marcus Aurelius, he ended his Days in an Expedition in Almaigne: He un­derwent all the Duties of a Soldier, and a Captain; and had made great Advances, if he had not been surprized by Death. The Example of this Prince, and that of his Son, do well demon­strate, that Justice is serviceable to Va­lour, instead of being prejudicial to it; and that that Courage which is not founded in the Love of Vertue, is ob­noxious to great Disorders. Commo­dus, the Son of Aurelius, had been carefully educated by his Father, with all the Exactness imaginable: This E­ducation was in him joyned with an au­spicious Birth; he had a vast Genius; he was strong, dexterous, and of a good Mind; and nothing was wanting to make him a great Prince, but his Will to be so. His Father had no sooner rendred up his Life, but he [Page 122] thinks of nothing more than returning to Rome, though one might have well represented to him, that Rome was eve­ry where where the Emperor was. He abandons an assured Victory, and patch­ing up a dishonourable Peace with the Alemaignes, sets forward for Italy, with­out being at the Pains to consider whe­ther it would not beget ill Impressions of his Conduct, in the Beginning of his Reign. We come now from seeing an old Emperor, who had rather die un­der his Military Labours, in the Bed of Honour, than quit the Design he had formed; and we see after him, a young Prince, full of Vigour, who, to wind himself out of the Fatigues of War, eschews an Enterprize, to which the Memory of his Father, and his own Honour, should have engaged him: Instead of embracing a lawful Occasion for the Acquests of Glory, he rather chose to expose himself to the View of the Romans, in the Equipage of a Gla­diator; and by throwing of Darts, to kill Panthers or Lions in an Amphi­theatre.

CHAP. VI.
Why it is, that, at this Day, all the World hath not the Opinion they ought to have, upon the Obligation of joyn­ing Justice to Valour.

IF all Men, at this Day, have not the Opinion they ought to have of their being obliged to joyn Valour with this other Vertue, (which is the Rule of all Morality) perhaps it comes from hence, that in this Monarchy, as in many others, they have made a Sepa­ration of the Gown from the Sword, as if they were distinct Functions; and do not think it proper, that the same Men might be Magistrates and Captains too. It is true, the Sovereign Admi­nistration of Laws and Arms resides in the Person of the Prince; but it is in no other properly, but in him, that this Union is to be found: And yet, in some sort, he hath declared himself for [Page 124] the Military Employment, since he e­very Day bears the Badges of it; and even in the actual Administration of Ju­stice, he wears a Sword by his Side. But the Ancients did not determine of Things after this Rule. Amongst them, the Charge of Consul, that of Praetor, and many others, were no less for the Wars, than for Peace: Inso­much that there were some that, in a Moment, passed from the Tribunal, to the Camp; and, after having heard Causes pleaded, and been Pleaders themselves, were sent to command, and to fight, in the Army. Fabritius was a Man of an undaunted Spirit: Both the Cato's were exceeding valiant: And the same Justice which restrained them from suffering their Judgments to be corrupted, excited them not to suf­fer themselves to be vanquished in Bat­tels. We find the like Examples in the Graecian History. Phocion and Ari­stides had no less of Courage, than In­tegrity. They gave to Aristides the Surname of Just; they might as well have given him the Surname of Valiant. 'Tis true, he never commanded the Army in Chief; but he distinguished [Page 125] himself in all the Wars where he serv­ed, either as a Soldier, or as an Offi­cer; and he behaved himself admira­bly well in the Battels of Marathron, Salamine, and Platea. Now, in the Republicks of Greece, no manner of Profession could exempt a Man from his Service in the Wars; or, at least, was incompatible with Arms. We could name Philosophers, who have joyned Justice with Valour. Socrates saved Alcibiades in a Battel; and dart­ing himself through the thickest of his Enemies, rescued him out of their Hands. Zenophon, after the Death of Clearchus, was one of the Captains in that famous Retreat, which, amongst the Criticks in the Art of War, pas­seth for one of the finest Master-pieces that ever was performed.

CHAP. VII.
What is the Extent of Military Obedience.

AS it is an important Thing, (SIR) for those who are destined to command Armies, to know to what Point they may extend this Command; and because You purpose Your self to learn under the Orders of the King, Your Father, who teacheth the Art of Conquering, and of being victorious; we must not forget to remark in this Discourse, what is the Extent of Mili­tary Obedience. It hath sometimes been a Question, Whether Justice ob­ligeth a Soldier to deliver up himself to a certain and inevitable Death, when his Commander puts him upon it. Some answer to this, First, That it is very difficult to find any Case so deplo­rable, but that there may be some pos­sibility of escaping: For, after the Ex­ample of Alexander, when he threw himself into the City of the Oxydra­cians: And after that, of Horatius Co­cles; [Page 127] who singly stopped an Army of Enemies, till the Bridge was broken down, and then, all wounded as he was, leaped with his Arms into Tyber, and saved himself by swimming. There hardly seems a Danger so visible, and so pressing, where a Man may not see some Glimmerings of Hope. But al­though we should take this Supposition in the Extent of its Rigour, yet we ought not to doubt, but that a Soldier, who hath received his Commands, must follow the Orders given him, though it were certain, that in the executing it, or in the endeavouring to do it, it would cost him his Life. The same Principle which wills us to hazard Life for the Preservation of Honour, com­mands us to sacrifice it for the same Reason; since if Honour were not more valuable than Life, we should not only not sacrifice it for the Preserva­tion of Honour, but should not think it needful to hazard it. Besides, a private Man is in respect of the Pub­lick, as a Member is in respect of the Body: And it happens sometimes, that for the Preservation of the Body, we not only apply painful Remedies to the [Page 128] Part affected, but we wholly cut it off. This Reasoning is confirmed by Exam­ples: As, by that of Leonidas; who, with his Three Hundred Lacedaemonians, (as we have mentioned in this Dis­course) being at the Streights of Ther­mopylae, to oppose the greatest Army that ever was; when he knew that this dreadful Army was ready to fall upon him, saith he to his Soldiers, Come, my Friends, let us dine now; we shall sup in the other World. The Ro­man History relates an Action very like this, and of an equal Number of Men, in the War against the Car­thaginians. But if some will insist up­on that which I just now hinted, that it may be these valiant Men, in these Rencounters, did not look upon their Deaths as altogether infallible; yet there were others, who did actually devote themselves to Death; as, De­cius amongst the Romans, and Codrus and Menecheus amongst the Greeks. And in our Modern Histories, we find Commanders of Ships, who being pur­sued, and sore pressed, without being either able to defend or save them­selves, have put Fire to the Powder, [Page 129] and blown themselves up, that so nei­ther they nor their Ship might fall, as a Prey, into the Hands of their Ene­mies.

CHAP. VIII.
Whether one may be dispensed with from following an Or­der in War, when he sees, in not following it, he shall bring greater Advantage to his Side.

IT hath also been a Question, If, af­ter a Military Order is given out, he who received it, may disobey it, when he sees, in not following it, he shall do a greater piece of Service for his Party, and that he shall be certain to accomplish a Victory? A like Que­stion to this hath been propounded, in reference to Friendship: They demand, If a Man being charged by his Friend [Page 130] to do a Thing, whether he be obliged precisely to keep close to that which was prescribed him; or whether he may take another Course; when he as­suredly knows, that by this Means he shall farther serve his Friend, who hath put his Concerns into his Hands? Ma­ny have thought, that he may do it: But, in the mean Time, they give us these two Cautions: First, To see if the Course which we steer, and which we preferr before the other, doth pre­vail so much over that which we have Orders to follow, that this Advantage be so considerable, as to make a Com­pensation for the Liberty we give our selves to forsake the Will and Com­mands of a Friend, in his proper Inte­rests. They advise us also to take care with whom we have to do: For if we should have to do with a stiff and self­conceited Person, wholly abounding in his own Sense, he will neither take our good Intentions, nor our good Success, for Reason; but, on such Occasions, interprets all sorts of Addresses, as Shifts to cover unfaithfulness: Then we must serve him according to his Hu­mour, and not run the Risk of losing [Page 131] his Friendship. Some have extended this Question to the Commands which we receive from our Superiors; in which we must affirm, that the securest Way is, not to set up ones self as an Umpire of their Will; and that there happen very few Occasions, where he may be allowed to pass the Limits of a blind Obedience. Aulus Gellius, who sometimes makes Remarks particular enough upon Things of Antiquity, re­lates, how that Crassus going into Asia with his Army, and being desirous to besiege a Place, stood in want of a long and strong Beam, to make one of those Engines which the Ancients called Baleares, Battering-Rams, and with which they used to batter Towns: He passing by Athens, took notice of a Beam which was in the Gate, and which he believed would exactly fit his purpose; he wrote to the Architect of the Athe­nians, to send it to him. The Archi­tect, who was an able Artist, knowing for what Design he intended it, sent him another, which he judged most proper for his purpose. Crassus calls him before him, and demanded of him, Why he did not exactly follow his Or­ders? [Page 132] Whatever Reason the Man al­ledged to justifie himself, he caused him to be punished in the sight of his Army. Behold one who was rigorous to Extre­mity. We may say, this Roman used him as he would have dealt with a Sol­dier who had disobeyed his Orders; and that he pursued the Severity of Mi­litary Discipline. Indeed, in War we must obey punctually: And when Or­ders are given out, nothing can dis­pense with the Obligation we have to submit to them. This Maxim is soun­ded first upon this, That we ought ne­ver to do a positive Evil, for any Good that may happen thereby: And Disobe­dience in Matters of Discipline is an es­sential Crime. On the other side, We must keep up this Rigour to the heighth, otherwise, the Consequence would be dangerous, if by one single Exception, we should open a Door to Disobedi­ence; and if we should give place to imagine, that there are Reasons, after a General hath given his Orders, which will leave one at liberty to follow, or not to follow them. The Notions which the Stoick Philosophers had of Valour, accords very well with this Principle. [Page 133] Through all the Extent of Morality, they referr the Design of Things to Prudence, the Distribution to Justice, and the Execution to Valour. Seeing then, the proper Office of Valour is to execute, she must be content with her own Function; and may always sup­pose, that there have been Consults enough preparatory for her; and be­sides, that she is not answerable for the Miscarriages of Deliberations. Other Authors, to shew the Connexion of Ver­tues, have established this for a Maxim, That an Action can never be vertuous, if it be not done with Discretion, Equi­ty, Moderation, and Resolution: And according to this Prospect, they have assigned to every Vertue a general Qua­lity; as, Discretion to Prudence, Equi­ty to Justice, Moderation to Tempe­rance, and Resolution to Valour. We have no need to examine this Principle, in all its Circumstances: It is enough for this Reflection, that since Resolution is the Character of Valour, a Soldier must give Testimony of it, in keeping himself indispensably tied to Discipline, and in never starting aside from the Du­ties of Military Obedience.

CHAP. IX.
It is an Errour to believe, that the Profession of a Soldier is condemned by the Christian Religion. If Anger be per­mitted in Battel, in what manner one ought to behave himself against a Friend on the contrary Party, when one meets him in the Fight.

I Thought it needful here to touch that Scruple so weakly grounded, which makes some Men believe, that the Military Profession stands condem­ned by Religion: In this they are con­demned themselves, not only by the History of so many Wars which are related in the Scriptures, but also by that remarkable Place in the Gospel, where the Soldiers consulted the Fore­runner of Jesus Christ: He doth not exhort them to quit their Employ­ment, [Page 135] but to be contented with their Pay, and not to mutiny. Here then is no Subject of Doubt, as there may be in that famous Dispute, which hath di­vided the Ancient Philosophers; and it consists in this; Whether Anger be forbidden in Battels, as a Passion alto­gether evil: Or whether it may be al­lowed as an Instrument of Valour. This last Opinion hath prevailed; the Lyceum is more followed in this Point, than the Porticus; and we believe, as there are commendable Desires, wise Fears, and innocent Joys and Sorrows, so there are lawful Angers; and in just Wars we may make use of this Passion, to inflame, or (as Aristotle speaks) to whet our Courage. What shall we say to this other Question which hath been propounded by the Ancients; that is, In what manner we are to behave our selves against a Friend who is of the contrary Party, and with whom we meet in Battel? Must we avoid him, or fight him? We shall not undertake to decide a Difficulty, which so many great Men have left undecided. Let us forbear searching to the Bottom of this Question, for fear of finding Rea­sons [Page 136] contrary to a Sentiment which seems so humane: And let us preserve Respect for Friendship, which is a Vertue it self, or the most honourable of all Things in the World, next to Vertue.

CHAP. X.
Necessary Reflections upon Rashness.

WHen Valour is regulated by Ju­stice, she is far enough from Rashness. For, if a Prince be prodi­gal of his Life, he is unjust to his Peo­ple; and he ought sometimes to regard Temerity under this Notion: For, if it be considered as a piece of Injustice, it appears more condemnable, than if it be considered but as a piece of Impru­dence. That a Prince therefore may not become guilty of rash Actions, he ought to have something else in his Eye besides Perils; because one must not seek out Dangers for Danger's sake. [Page 137] And if one do expose himself to the Hardships of War, it is not simply to expose himself, and no more; but for the avoiding of some eminent Damage, or the obtaining some great Advantage. The Action of a Prince then ought to have this End, viz. A Reference to the Success of his Arms, which is possible, important, and conformable to his Rank. He fails in the first Condition, which is Possibility, if he does as Ale­xander did, when he threw himself from the Top of the Walls, into an Enemy's City: For, Could he pretend to take it alone! He fails to observe the second Condition, which is Impor­tance, if he doth as the same Prince did, when, during the Siege of Tyre, he drew out a small Detachment of his Army, for I know not what Expedition against the Arabians; which was nei­ther necessary for him, nor worthy of him. It is our next Business to consi­der, that an Action may be possible and important, and yet not be proper to the Quality of him that would execute it. Nothing is more possible, than to gain Forts by springing of Mines; and sometimes nothing is more important, [Page 138] than to use those Means; but we must not thence conclude, that the King ought to go himself to lodge the Mi­ner. I see it would be impossible to enumerate the particular Things which are fit to be acted by a Prince, in the Wars; and which are not so: But it seems to me, that we may establish this as a general Maxim, That a Prince ought not to expose himself to Danger, but in such Actions where his Command is requisite. If he knows a Fort well, it is, to ordain in what manner it shall be besieged: If he visit the Trenches, it is there also to dispose his Orders: And if he appear in Battel, it is not there chiefly to imbrue his Sword in the Blood of some Soldiers; for the killing of three or four Men is not suf­ficient to turn a Battel; but it is here he ought to have his Eyes move through the whole, to shoot his Orders and Di­rections every where, and to be as the Soul to his whole Army. We distin­guish between two sorts of Temerity; one a particular, the other a general Rashness: One consists in the hazard­ing our selves, upon Occasion, against the Rules of Military Prudence; the [Page 139] other is, when we engage in a War far above our Force, or without being well prepared; as they say Caesar did in his Wars against Alexandria. Some distin­guish also betwixt the Temerity of the Enterprize, and the Temerity of the Execution; which are not altogether the same as those we have mentioned, although they come very near to them. Common Sense gives us sufficiently to understand these Differences.

It will be more important for us to consider the Causes of this Temerity; and they are, the false Admiration of rash Enterprizes or Executions, when they have succeeded; and a mistaken Contempt of Conducts conformable to the Maxims of War, when they seem not to have enough of Bravery and Re­solution. We may see this manifestly ve­rified in a Conduct quite contrary, which Marcellus and Fabius once followed; one called the Sword, and the other the Buckler of the Romans. I should wan­der too far, if I should examine the Lives of these two Men, to make par­ticular Remarks of this Diversity and Opposition. It is sufficient to say, that Fabius was truly the Buckler of Rome, [Page 140] and that he saved her from Ruin. On the other side, Marcellus is blamed for having precipitated himself into Dan­gers; and to have (as we may say) stole away his Life from the Defence of his Country, in a Time when she stood most in need of it. It was said by a famous Orator, That many Great Men, who have been wholly disposed to sacrifice their Lives and Fortunes to the publick Interest, yet were not con­tent to sacrifice to it the least Part of their Glory. He alledgeth upon this Subject, the Example of Cleombrotus the Lacedaemonian, who lost the Battel at Leuctre: And of another, called Callicratides; who, during the Wars of Peloponnesus, engaged himself un­luckily in a Sea-fight against the Athe­nians; and when they endeavoured to dissuade him from it, he answered, The Commonwealth of Sparta might send another Fleet to the Sea; but as for him, he could not make a Retreat, but to his Dishonour. But he deceived himself ex­treamly in speaking after this rate; for if a Retreat were necessary, then it could not be shameful; and if the En­gagement were rash, it could not be [Page 141] glorious. These Restrictions put You in Pain, (SIR;) and You look upon them as Fetters to Your Courage: You bear them so much the more impatient­ly, in that You know Alexander re­mains Conqueror at this Day; and ha­ving an Emulation for his Glory, You aim to be as valiant as he. Your Pre­tensions (SIR) are just; and You give us Reason to hope, that You will equal the Fortune, and surpass the Vertue of this famous Conqueror. But I most humbly beseech You to take notice, that one may be as valiant as Alexander, without being fond of fol­lowing the Examples of his Temerity; provided one do not forbear imitating him herein by any Impulse of Fear, but out of a Principle of Reason. There are, in the whole, three or four Actions in the Life of that Prince, which are inexcusable Temerities, and the Success cannot justifie them; since wise Men judge of Things as they are in themselves, and not by the Events. These sorts of Excess would be more condemned in our Days, after the In­vention of Artillery, which hath given so many Advantages to Fortune. If he [Page 142] that formerly saw a Warlike Engine, cried out, that Valour would be lost, had seen these other Machines, which not only represent the Noise, but the Ef­fects of Lightning, and carry Death to a prodigious Distance, how would he have improved the Subject of his Exclamation! He that is undaunted, is as valiant as Alexander: But though, in this Greatness of Courage, he is not afraid of Death; yet, nevertheless, he is not obliged to expose himself there­unto, to no purpose. We cannot ima­gine any Thing more important than this Reflection, because the Valour of a rash Prince cannot produce the Effects which it ought to do: His Enemies conceive as much of Hope, as Fear at it; and they desire no more of him, than to confront Dangers, without Ne­cessity; and they wait every Moment for that fatal Stroak, which shall put a Period to the Course of his Success, and that of his Life. If a Prince will be a Conqueror, he must first learn to overcome himself: And he must hold this for a certain Rule, That he that cannot command his own Courage, can never render himself Master of his [Page 143] Enemy's. The true Valour of a Prince doth not consist in avoiding Dangers, no more than in seeking of them; but to attend, and not to desert the Fun­ctions of his Command, for any Dan­gers that shall encompass him. If, in a Sea-fight, a Pilot should quit the Rudder, and run upon the Deck, he would be accounted fool-hardy: And, on the other side; if, fearing to be slain in the Place where he ought to steer the Ship, he should go and hide himself in the Hole, he would be bran­ded for an Errant Coward. Some have compared an Army to the Body of a Man. Iphicrates said, the Infantry were the Hands, the Cavalry the Feet, and the General the Head. Now, if the Head will either give or put by Blows, in­stead of leaving this Office to the Hands, it would receive as many Wounds as it makes Pushes, and would soon be put out of a Condition of fighting. But if, on the other Extream, finding it self afraid of Danger, it would hood-wink her Eyes, or turn away her Sight, it will so happen, that the Hands not be­ing guided thereby, the whole Body will be left without Defence, and ex­posed [Page 144] to the Discretion of the Enemy. I allow, that these Comparisons are im­perfect, (and we cannot frame Simili­tudes which will have an entire Exact­ness;) but we may draw some Light from them, and thereupon form a De­finition of Valour, near approaching to that which the Ancients have left us. In Truth, this Vertue would not be ill defined, if we say, that Valour is the Science of those Dangers, to which a Man ought to expose himself; and of those, to which he ought not to expose himself. They who will be willing to conceive of it in this Sense, would pursue the Notion of Socrates, who called all the Vertues Sciences; and particularly, gave this Name to Valour▪ It is rela­ted of him, how that being one Day at a Feast, where they brought in one of those sort of Women we see now-a-days, who leaped over naked Swords, with the Points upwards and crossed; he made a Reflection, how well this Woman had overcome the natural Ti­midity of her Sex, in that she under­took a Thing wherein her Death had been infallible if she had stopped by the Way, and had not throughly per­formed [Page 145] so hazardous a Leap. Then, being come near to one of his Scholars, Valour (saith he to him) is a Thing which falls under Doctrine, and may be learned. If the Maxim of this Philoso­pher hath any Foundation, and it is true that Valour may be learned, who shall be the Master of this noble Science? Certainly, the Prince. His Examples therein are the Models, and his Orders are the Precepts. But in the Orders that he shall give out to others, or to him­self, he ought not to make Justice to consist in Equality, but (as one for­merly said) Equality in Justice. And if it be demanded whether the Danger ought to be equal in an Army; we may answer in the Affirmative. But we must understand it of an Equality of Justice, or Proportion; (that is to say) That the King must expose him­self as a King, and the Soldier as a Soldier.

CHAP. XI.
The Dependance of Valour, in regard of God.

THE principal Part of Justice is that wherewith God hath ordain­ed us to serve him; and it consists in that entire Submission we ought to render him. Insomuch that we must not fail to consider in this Discourse, what are those Dependencies which the Valour of Men receives from the Power of God. It depends upon him in re­spect of that which we call Fortune, and in respect of the Body, and also of the Soul. First, The Things called Fortuitous are entirely in the Hands of God. There is no Courage whatsoe­ver, that is able to foresee or prevent these sorts of Adventures. As, when Cambyses was going to make War in Lybia, Fifty Thousand of his Army were buried under a Mountain of Quick-sands: Or, as in the late Times, the King of Sweden was going to the Isle of Fu [...]ne [...], the Ice broke under one [Page 147] of his Regiments, whereby they were all drowned in the Sea. Scipio, when very young, was in that Battel which Paulus Aemylius gained over the last King of Macedonia. After the Fight was over, and the Victory carried for the Romans, they knew not what was become of him; and the Roman Army was returned into their Camp, with­out seeing young Scipio appear. Ae­mylius was extreamly troubled thereat; and in the midst of the Success of this great Day, he felt no Joy, but what was imbittered with Grief, by the Ap­prehension he had of having lost a Son of so great Hopes. They sent out into all Coasts, to learn Tidings of him, and called out aloud for him; but all to no purpose: They concluded then, that he lay mingled amongst the slain Bo­dies; and they were there searching for him, when, at last, they saw him return with Two more, and his Sword reeking in Blood: That is to say, he was so transported by the inconsiderate Fervency of Youth, as, having quitted the Body of the Army, he pursued the Macedonians so far, that he had perish­ed a Thousand Times, if he had had [Page 148] to do with Men who durst have rallied: Nothing had been more easie, than to have incompass'd and slain him. If this had happened, there had been no Scipio the Great, the Destroyer of Car­thage and Numantia: And his Valour (as one may say) having been nipped in the Bud, he had not performed those illustrious Actions which have rendred him immortal in Story. On the other side, If Providence had given a longer Life to the Duke of Longueville, he might have been another Scipio; or, to compare him with the Chief of his Illustrious Race, which ended in him, he might have been another Dunois. 'Tis true, the Death of this young Prince doth not so much respect the first Dependance, of which I have been speaking, as the second, which ought also to be considered. The Valour of a Man depends on Almighty God, in regard of his Body. This is plainly vi­sible in Wounds; seeing that Courage is unprofitable, when the Strength fails. What profitted it Pyrrhus to have a grand Courage, when having taken a Town by Force of Arms, he received a Blow with a Stone, thrown down [Page 149] from the Top of an House, which stunned him; and causing him to fall from his Horse, left him without Strength or Sense, in the Hands of those that took away his Life? What did this heroick Resolution of Mind profit Philopoemon, who was the sole Support of his Country; when, being the last in the Retreat, as he was first in the Onset, his Horse threw him down under him; whereupon, he was soon surrounded by his Enemies? We may remark this Difference, not only in Wounds, but in other Things; which, though they are less sensible, yet are more astonishing. It happens sometimes, that a valiant Person, who hath out-faced great Dangers with an undaunted Countenance, has yet been afraid when there has been no Cause of Fear: It must be no other than a kind of Dazling, or an Imagination, which troubles and confounds him. It is in the Actions of War, as in those of E­loquence: The most compleat Orators sometimes have been, as it were, Pla­net-struck, and have lost their Speech, without knowing any Reason for it. Men of the greatest Courage have [Page 150] been, as one may say, dumb-founded, as well as the greatest Genius's. Hi­story is full of such Events. And that which is observable here, is, that the Pagans themselves have acknowledged this sort of Dependance; insomuch that the Sentiments they have had thereof have obliged them to consider these pannick Fears as Envoys from Heaven. We shall find a Proof of this in that Expression which Virgil makes Turnus pronounce: ‘Dii me terrent.’

'Tis true, these Idolaters most fre­quently knew not to what God they should ascribe these unexpected Hor­rours: And we may with Reason say, that as Children who know not their Father, address themselves sometimes to the first Man they meet, calling him their Father: In like manner, the Pa­gans, through their Ignorance of the true Deity, when any Terrour invaded their Spirits, or struck their Senses, they imagined presently that this was their God; and seeing the great Ef­fects which Terrour produced in their [Page 151] Armies, they took Terrour it self for a God. There was at Lacedaemonia (as we have already observed) the Temple of Fear: And there was another at Rome, which was not only dedicated to Fear, but to its Effects; Pavori, & Pallori. All the Auguries, Expiations and Sacrifices which they made during the Wars, and before their Battels, came from the same Original; inso­much that, at the last, their Religion became wholly Military. They consi­dered their Camp as a Temple: They did not only bring their Gods thither with their Eagles, but they placed the Eagles themselves in the Number of their Gods; they adored them, and they swore by their Name. When the Emperors had embraced the Christian Faith, they abolished this sort of Ido­latry, as well as others. But to re­tain the Soldiers in their Duty by a vi­sible Object of Religion, which might often put them in mind of the need they had of God's Assistance, and of the Dependance they had on his Power, they represented the Cross upon the Standard, which they called Labarum. Sozomen, the Ecclesiastical Historian, [Page 152] relates, That the Christian Soldiers con­sidered this Ensign as a Thing sacred, wherein was the Sign of their Redem­ption; and that they rendred to it a peculiar Respect. As all these Fears I have been observing may arise from the Disposition of the Body, or of the Corporeal Faculties, I have ranked them under the second Dependance. But there is another Dependance be­hind: The Valour of Men is subject to the Divine Power in regard of the Soul. Indeed, a Prince who saith to God, Give me my Arms, preserve me my Life and Health, and I know well enough how to do the rest: That is to say, I know well enough how to improve my Courage my self: This Prince speaks like a Pagan. Our Souls depend en­tirely on him that made them. And if a valiant Man doth not believe that it is God which bestows his Valour on him, and that he can take it from him when-ever he pleaseth; if the most hardy Man in the World imagines that it doth not belong to God to render him the most fearful Creature, he knows not God, neither doth he know himself. Our Souls, as we have said [Page 153] already, are the Operations of his Hands; they have continual Need of the Supplies of his Succours, to pre­serve the Qualities they have received. This Principle must be agreed, That as there are none but Spirits that can penetrate Bodies, so there is none but God can penetrate Souls. Insomuch that God is in our Souls, he acts im­mediately there, and it belongs to him to do that which he pleaseth. They deceive themselves extreamly who ima­gine, that in making these Reflections on the Dependence of Men's Valour, it should be capable to abate their Cou­rage, rather than to add more Assu­rance to it. For, as it is in Civil So­cieties, the Power of our Friends cre­ates in us rather Confidence than Fear; so the Divine Omnipotence is so far from abating the Courage of those Per­sons that acknowledge and adore it, that it elevates and confirms it. And certainly I believe, that all the Exhor­tations that ever have been made, or ever shall be made, to excite Men to Valour, have not so much Force as one Sentence of the Old Testament, alledged by St. Paul; If God be for us, who can [Page 154] be against us? And that other in the Go­spel; Fear not them that can kill the Body, but cannot destroy the Soul.

CHAP. XII.
What is the End of Valiant Actions.

AMongst the Circumstances which attend Actions, the most essential of all is the End. What is the End of the Actions of Valour? The Pagans have propounded Glory for its End. Christian Morality advanceth higher; and to conceive aright of the Grandeur and Solidity of the Sentiments she in­spires upon this Subject, it is needful for us to consider, it is in Valour as it is in other Vertues, and that Military Actions ought to be ranked amongst the good Works to which the Reward of Heaven is promised. There is in them this in particular, that they are not only more painful and difficult than the others, but they oftentimes [Page 155] put a Period to the Life of him that performs them; and so he embraceth Death in the actual Exercise of Vertue. If a Man closeth up his Life, stretch­ing out his Hands to assist the Poor, and in the very Act of Alms-deeds and Charity; or if he render up his Soul at the Foot of the Altar, whilst he is ap­plying himself to the Invocation and Adoration of God; such a Death will, with Reason, be accounted as a Fa­vour, and will give us advantageous Thoughts of the Salvation of this Man. We ought to have the same Opinion of a Death which happens in Military Ex­peditions. And to make the Reflection more agreeable to this Notion, it is not necessary that it must be a War waged against Infidels; it is sufficient that, in respect of the Prince, the War be just; and in respect of the Subjects, that they are commanded by their Prince: Then we may say, that Death is a Sa­crifice; and he that suffers it, is a Vi­ctim. It will be objected, without doubt, that this Sacrifice may not be pleasing to God, because it may suffer that Death, and yet otherwise be in an ill State. I agree it: But this is not [Page 156] a Case peculiar to Valour only, seeing that it may be also, that he who dies in the actual Exercise of Alms-giving, or of Prayer, yet may not die in a good Disposition of Conscience. There is only one Difference to be observed, That Alms-giving and Prayer do not, in themselves, expose a Man's Life to Hazard; but Military Actions are ac­companied with Dangers, and it is their very Business to encounter them. Insomuch that we may soberly con­clude thereupon, that a Soldier is par­ticularly obliged to take care of his Conscience; and in that he is exposed to Death hourly, he ought always to be well prepared to die daily. It is not necessary to make a farther Re­search what is the End of valiant A­ctions, it is the same as of other ver­tuous Actions. Valour propounds no less an Aim, than the noblest of all Conquests; that of Heaven. She pro­pounds an Immortality that is not feigned, nor metaphorical, as is that of Fame; but a Life truly eternal, and truly happy. As to that other Immor­tality, such as it is; I mean, the Glo­ry which springs from Valour; we [Page 157] must see of what Dispositions Christian Princes ought to be in this Respect. I remember I have read a Notion in the Writings of an Ancient Father, which, at the first, surprized me; but it was very solid, and very necessary upon this Occasion. He preached to his Peo­ple after this manner: Have a Care of my Reputation: It is your Interest, rather than mine, so to do: I have no need of it for my self; but I have need of it for you. So a Prince stands in no need of Honour for himself: He shall not be judged of God by his Reputation, but by his Vertue: He hath only need of it for his People, to maintain his Subjects in their Duty, to hinder his Enemies from undertaking any Thing against them; and, in a Word, for a Thou­sand Things important to the Publick. We cannot doubt then, but that the Reputation of Kings is capable of pro­ducing great Effects, be it either in Peace or War: But all this hath no farther Regard to a Prince, but during his Life. Ought he then to neglect a Reputation which shall endure after Death? No, he ought not to neglect it; but on the contrary, to desire it; [Page 158] not for himself, but for others: Which is the Motive we have formerly touch­ed at, and appears here to be manifest­ly true. Indeed, St. Lewis would not be e'er the less happy in Heaven, though all the World were ignorant of the Actions he did on the Earth; and we never had known he was va­liant, or that he had made War in Africa, or had suffered Death as a Martyr. It is not then a Felicity to St. Lewis, that History speaks of him; but it is an Happiness for those who are now living. It is an Happiness in particular to You, (SIR) who are animated by this Example; and find in a Stem of your August Family, the most perfect Model that the Church hath propounded for Princes. As we may see by this, that the Glory of great Kings produceth great Effects, which are not confined within the Li­mits of their Days; so we cannot de­ny but that they may propound to themselves to do such Actions which will never be forgotten; and the Me­moires of their Vertue will procure a continued and perpetual Benefit to the World. We shall be yet more con­vinced [Page 159] of the Truth of this Maxim, if we consider that there is a Proportion altogether equal, between the Times and Places. And, as when a Christian Prince desires to be known out of his own Kingdom, it is to render himself profitable to Strangers, as well as to his Subjects: In like manner, when he desires to be famed after his Death, it is to this End, that after having served his own Generation, he will be yet far­ther serviceable to Posterity.

CHAP. XIII.
Valour ought to be accompanied with Generosity.

WHen one is animated from so noble a Principle, and hath propounded to himself so excellent an End, he sometimes prohibits himself the Use of those Things which, in themselves, are allowable. It is not enough to satisfie our selves, that we are far from being guided by unjust [Page 160] Maxims; but we ought farther to hearken to the Impulses of Generosity. Many confound the Name of Generous, with that of Valiant; but in this they deceive themselves: All undaunted Men are not generous. Generosity is a Grandeur, or a Beauty of the Soul, which sometimes is not found in those who are remarkable for Courage. There are many who not being capa­ble of the least Cowardice amidst the Dangers of War, yet have been guilty of great Weaknesses in the other Acci­dents of Life. We have borrowed this Term of the Latins, but we take it in another Sense than the Ancient Romans did; and have given it such a copious Signification, that we must consider Generosity in the full Extent, as a ge­neral Vertue, which is a chief Ingre­dient, and mingles it self amongst all the others, and adds a Flavour to their Sentiments. Indeed, as I remarked be­fore, we call those generous, who have a comely▪ beautiful Soul. Now, as one single Feature well formed does not render the Face beautiful, so one single Vertue does not make up a lovely Soul. Generosity is allied to all the Vertues, [Page 161] but she loves to be espoused to Valour, which opens to her a vast Career, wherein to exercise her self; it gives her the stateliest Theatre she could ever have had, whereon to shew forth the Nobleness and Purity of her Intentions. It is by Valour that an Hero renders himself victorious; it is by Generosity that he does not sully the Glory of his Victory. It is by this that he remits the rigorous Justice of his Rights, and gives a Relaxation of hard (and yet just) Severities; that he scorns Re­venge, though he hath the full Power to act it. He is sorry in his Chair of Triumph, for the Blood which he was constrained to shed in the Field of Bat­tel, stretcheth out his Hands to relieve the Vanquished, and shews them that he is an Enemy to no People; and that he never designed any more than to correct their Insolence, Tyranny, and Injustice. Farther, (SIR;) Genero­sity is properly the Vertue of a Prince. You ought to esteem it as one of the principal Ornaments of your Life: And You cannot take too much Pains to cultivate those Seeds which You have received at Your Royal Birth, [Page 162] and to practise those Maxims which You have continually learned in Your excellent Education. That which shews, this Vertue appertains peculiar­ly to those who are placed in the high­est Station, is, that she includes with­in her self a kind of Superiority: And we may always affirm in some sort, that he that does a generous Act, in that he raiseth himself up above him that receives it. And certainly, should a Subject, in making Protestations of his Loyalty, tell the King that he would serve him generously; though perhaps he may have no ill Intention, yet he of­fends against Decency. Nay, to go far­ther; If a [...]lan should so express himself towards God, he would speak not only barbarously, but impiously. No one may say, he acts generously towards God: And, that which is more sur­prizing, we ought not to say neither, that God is generous towards Men: We ought to say, indeed, that he is good, and compassionate. Now, see­ing that Generosity is a Vertue more sublime than mere Goodness, it may be demanded, Why, in speaking of God, we chuse rather to say he is [Page 163] good, than that he is generous? They do wisely, that express themselves so: And this Way of Speaking seems to be founded on Reason. As Words are the Images of the Thoughts, we can­not well give a Name to God, see­ing we cannot comprehend him. All Names, generally, are unworthy of his Greatness and Immensity, not excepting even that which was had in so great a Veneration amongst the Jews. We say of God, that he is good; because, as this is a Name we ordinarily ascribe to Men, so we believe, by our attributing it to God, that, at the same Time, he will not fail to elevate our Thoughts beyond our Expressions. But we for­bear to give him the Name of Gene­rous, which is one of the sublimest in Morality, for fear one should imagine that it would fill up the Idaea he ought to have of the King of Kings, and that it might be truly worthy of his infinite Perfections. I am insensibly fallen into this Digression, and will improve it no farther, but tie my self at present to consider Generosity as a Vertue which ought to accompany Valour.

CHAP. XIV.
The greatest Men in Ancient History have not only been valiant, but generous.

THE Heroes which Antiquity took care to render illustrious, were generous, as well as valiant. And it must be confessed, that the Actions wherein their generous Thoughts and Motions are most conspicuous, are the Passages of their Lives wherein we are most sensibly touched, and which en­gage us the more to esteem their Me­mories. Caesar lamented the Death of Pompey: And after he was passed over into Africa, conducting his Troops to­wards the City where Cato was, as soon as he understood that he had kil­led himself, I envy your Death, (cried he) O Cato, since you have envied me the Glory of saving your Life. Augustus also bewailed the Death of Mark An­thony: He shuts himself up with some of his familiar Friends, to condole the [Page 165] Death of his Rival, and to render Praises to his Merit: He reads to them certain Letters which he had received from him, and makes Remarks on the Neatness and Beauties of his Stile: He shews them, that he was not only a Man of great Courage, but of a great Soul. Some will say, all these Regrets were but dissembled. May be they were so; but one may judge by this, how commendable and amiable Gene­rosity is, since, in these Instances, Cae­sar and Augustus believed, that they ought to have had either such real Im­pressions, or, at least, the Appearan­ces of them: And as they had the Taste and Ambition of true Glory, so they conceived it imported much to their Honour, to be sensible of the Misfortune of their Enemies; or if they were not so, yet to seem to be so. In speaking after this manner, I know I do not accommodate my self to the Opinion of those who make lit­tle favourable Constructions of the Tears of the two first Caesars: In which it seems to me, they have but ill practised the Vertue whereof we are speaking, and that they have not [Page 166] used them generously. For, what Rea­son can they alledge, that these two great Men, who, after the Establish­ment of their Sovereignty, had made their Clemency appear so conspicuous, should not then enter upon Considera­tions which might draw Tears from them? Valour and Generosity are not incompatible; and when one hath vanquished an Enemy, I cannot tell what should hinder him from deplo­ring his Misfortune, after the Victory. We must confess, Envy is a malignant Interpreter; it will divine Things it never saw, and will make Comments on the finest Actions of the Heroes, in the worst Sense. But what can it say of Scipio, who, after the Battel at Za­ma, the Loss of which reduced the Carthaginians to the Roman Servitude, studied rather to preserve Hannibal, than to destroy him? He obliged the Vanquished to burn their Vessels, wherein consisted the Force of their Empire: But he did not oblige them to deliver up this redoubtable Enemy, who had ravaged Italy, and had brought Rome to the very Brink of Ruin; and who, besides, in the Use of Means [Page 167] which he employed to gain his Point, and to succeed in his Enterprizes, sometimes transgressed the Boundaries of Justice, and was not always con­tented with the Rights of War. Sci­pio saved him nevertheless; and after­wards, going to make War in Asia, he saw him at Ephesus. Although Han­nibal was fled to that very Prince, a­gainst whom this War was declared, yet the generous Roman treated him with a great deal of Honour. Histo­ry observes, that this fierce African took the Way of him, but Scipio little valued Formalities; and during the Conversation they had together, he demands of him, who were, in his Judgment, the greatest Captains in the World. Hannibal answered, The grea­test Captain in the World was Alexander, the Second to him was Pyrrhus, and the Third my self. His Conqueror was not offended with this disobliging Answer, but said to him, smiling, What would you have said, if you had conquered me? Then, replied the other, I should have counted my self the First. This Genero­sity of Scipio appears so much the more commendable, when we shall have [Page 168] compared it with the Inhumanity of Flaminius; who having found Hannibal in the King of Bithynia's Court, never ceased to persecute him so cruelly, that he caused him to kill himself. A Pro­cedure so barbarous was condemned by the solid Part of Mankind, and a great Number of them Romans too. By this, Flaminius blasted the Reputa­tion he had acquired in his Macedonian Conquests. We conceive, I say, he ought to have spared the Life of a Man, who, after having escaped so many Dangers, was now arrived to an extream Old Age. Hannibal was of such an Age, that had he wished Ill to the Romans, he was not capable to ef­fect it; though, indeed, he ought not to have done it, nor to have wished it. This Action of Titus Flaminius puts me in mind of that of Lucius Flaminius, his Brother; which was extreamly con­demned: He was Commander of a Province; and one Day being at a Feast with a Person he loved, who be­ing taken with an inhumane Curiosity, told him, she had never seen a Man's Head cut off. It is easie, saith he, to satisfie your Desire in that. And there [Page 169] being in the Prison some Criminals un­der Condemnation of Death, he sent for one into the Hall where the Feast was, and cut off his Head in their Pre­sence. When he returned to Rome, one might have offered something by way of Excuse for a Conduct so brutal; that he whom he had caused to be exe­cuted was a guilty Person, and one a­ctually condemned; and that he had only changed the Place of his Execu­tion: One might have alledged the Glory of his Family, the good [...]ervices of his Brother, and of himself too. But he was noted for Infamy; and Ca­to the Elder, by his Authority, as Cen­sor, which he then exercised, expelled him out of the Senatorian Dignity. By this Example we may observe, that this brutish Action displeased even a People, who were accustomed to see the Com­bats of the Gladiators. So true it is, that valiant Men, when they are cruel, excite more of Horrour, than Admira­tion; and that all who are Strangers to Generosity, offend not only Souls that are generous, but even those that are not so.

CHAP. XV.
Valour without Generosity, is imperfect; and Generosity without Valour, is imperfect also.

UPon the whole, it concerns us, that we joyn both these Vertues together; I mean, Generosity and Va­lour: They are imperfect when they are separated the one from the other. Generosity without Valour, doth not seem to be sincere; and Valour with­out Generosity, does not seem to be reasonable: One appears as an Artifice, employed for the covering a Defect; and the other, as an Instinct whereby Nature blindly hurries him. A Prince ought therefore to unite both these in his own Person. Those who would represent Heroes in their greatest Per­fections, form and imagine them ac­cording to this Idaea: They animate them with a Desire of rendring all Mankind happy: They make them to [Page 171] protect the Innocent, though their Persons are unknown to them; some­times to run through the Universe, to relieve the Oppressed: They inspire into them an ardent Passion for true Glory, and a noble Contempt, not on­ly of all Things which are little and base, but of those which are common and ordinary. This Union of Gene­rosity and Valour makes Magnanimity, which must be considered as the Perfe­ction of Humane Vertues. The Title of Magnanimous is one of the most glo­rious Surnames that a Monarch can have ascribed to him. I wonder that we have never given it to any King: Those, amongst the Princes, which deserved it, have not taken it upon them. You may (SIR) take it one Day, after You have merited it; and as You have already an Ambition to render Your Self worthy of it, it rests wholly in You, to have the Advantage of enjoying it.

CHAP. XVI.
Divers sorts of Generosities, which serve to imhaunce Valour.

AMongst the divers sorts of Gene­rosities, (the Number of which are infinite) those which shew an en­tire Unconcernedness, and a noble Contempt of Riches, serve extreamly to raise the Reputation of Valour; be­cause that Confidence which makes a Man valiant, and persuades him that he need never fear the Dangers of War, hath very much of Conformity with that Confidence which makes a Man li­beral, and persuades him that he need never be afraid of Misfortunes; the Thoughts of which are a continual Terrour to the Covetous. Alexander, before he passed over into Asia, gave away all that he had: And when one demanded of him, what he had reser­ved for himself: I have, saith he, re­served Hope. But if we find too much [Page 173] of Excess in this Conduct, (as, with­out doubt, there was) we shall find, however, a great Solidity in his An­swer to Parmenio, at the Battel of Ar­bella. This old Captain sent to adver­tise him, that the Persians had fallen upon the Baggage of the Army; and that he could not save it, without im­mediate Succours. Alexander bid them tell him, That he must let that alone, and think of nothing but to overcome; for if the Macedonians carried the Victory, they should not only recover their own Bag­gage, but that of the Enemy's also. This Answer gives me Occasion to relate the Saying of Antisthenes the Philosopher, and Scholar to Socrates: We ought, saith he, to wish all sorts of Goods to our Enemies, except Valour; for if they are defective in Valour, they will not be able to preserve the Goods that they have, and we shall not fail to render our selves Ma­sters thereof. One spoke ingeniously, who called Covetousness an Aenigma: For, in Truth, nothing is so odd, and unconceivable, as to joyn Poverty and Riches together; and to scrape up a Mass of Goods, on purpose not to make use of them. This Aenigma yet [Page 174] becomes more inexplicable, when Ava­rice meets with Valour in one and the same Person. If one should put the Question, and ask, Who is he that despiseth Life, and with Greediness heaps up Things which he believes are necessary for Life; and yet, neverthe­less, makes no Use of those very Things he hath so eagerly hoarded up? Certainly, this would look like a Fa­ble, and a Chimera; and one could not imagine that it were ever possible to make a fit Application thereof. But such Examples are rare amongst Kings. Yet I will not deny, but that there may be found some Princes of the Cha­racter of that Roman, who was made Consul at a Time when they dreaded a difficult and dangerous War. He was much cried down upon the Score of Interest. And when it was demanded of another Roman, there at that Time, why he would be advised to give his Vote for such a Man to be Consul? It is, saith he, because I had rather be plundered, than sold. But, as I have said, these Examples are very rare. Valiant Men do make no other Esti­mate of Riches, but to use them; and [Page 175] they do not use them for any other End, but thereby to be enabled to do Things worthy of Glory. This appears, even from the Common Soldier, to the Prince: The great Desire of a Soldier truly cou­rageous, is, to have serviceable Arms; that of a Captain, to have a Company well disciplined; and that of a Prince, to have strong and well-marshall'd Ar­mies: 'Tis for this that he reserves his Treasures. And we cannot but lament, or, to say better, we can scarcely be­wail the Misfortune of those who perish by the blind Impulses of Ava­rice. Perseus. A certain King of Ma­cedonia, who was conquered by the Romans, had Troops able to de­fend him; but because these Troops cost him so much Money to maintain them, he disbanded them the Evening before the Battel which he had against such formidable Enemies. History farther observes, that after his Defeat, Cove­tousness was his predominant Passion; and when he fled away with all that he had that was of any great value, he was betrayed by a Captain of a Vessel, who imbarked the Treasures of this Prince in his own Ship, and left him [Page 176] upon the Sea-shoar, abandoned to all the World. Although we see him ar­rived to the most deplorable of Hu­mane Disgraces, yet we have less Pity for his Misfortune, than Indignation at his Conduct.

CHAP. XVII.
Amongst all the Generosities in the World, there is none that brings so much Honour to valiant Men, as the Par­doning of Injuries.

THere is no Point of Generosity that redounds so much to the Honour of valiant Men, as the Pardoning of Injuries. I shall only add this Word; They ought to consider, that in Par­doning they run no Risk, seeing they need not fear that this shall be imputed to them as Feebleness, or Want of Courage. Pompey hath been commen­ded [Page 177] for burning the Papers of Serto­rius, where were Letters would have made many a Roman's Heart ake; who desired not to see an End so soon to a War wherein he was engaged. We commend Caesar yet more, for throw­ing the Letters which were written to Pompey during the Civil Wars, into the Fire, without so much as reading them, for fear they might have inspi­red into him other Thoughts, contrary to those of his Clemency. The Subject whereof we treat will not permit us to forget those Generosities which are use­ful for the Success of Valour, and which are as the Instruments of Victories and Conquests. Aristides reconciled him­self to Themistocles the Night before the Battel of Salamina. In that of Platea, when there arose a Dispute about the Rank which was due to the Athenians, and which they had held in all the o­ther Wars of Greece, Aristides spake to the Graecians in almost these Terms: We are not come here with a Design to dis­pute with our Allies, but to fight against our Enemies: We know, Places are not ca­pable, in themselves, to create Fear, or in­spire Valour. Behold us all disposed to re­ceive [Page 178] the Posts wherein you will be pleased to put us; and we make Protestations, that we will endeavour well to defend them. I consider also the Conduct of Phocion as a great Piece of Generosity, when he refused to engage in Battel, to which he was rashly desired by those whom he commanded. He persisted in his Judg­ment, notwithstanding the Murmurs of his Troops. And when they were al­most ready to accuse him for Want of Courage, Brave Fellow-Soldiers, saith he, It is not you that can make me valiant, and it is not I that can make you Cowards. We must acknowledge by this Exam­ple, that amongst those Persons who propound Glory for their End, there may happen Occasions, where their Generosity shall raise them above the Sense of Honour: They love rather to be blamed without committing of Faults, than commit Faults without be­ing blamed; and then finding their Consolation in the Testimony they ren­der to themselves, they thence draw so much Satisfaction, that they are not over-sollicitous for the Reproaches they never deserved.

CHAP. XVIII.
After what manner Soldiers ought to speak of their Ex­ploits.

WE must not make an End of the Reflections that we have pur­sued upon Generosity, without observ­ing, in few Words, after what man­ner valiant Men ought to speak of their Exploits. And the first Condition which ought to be observed, is, Truth. In Times past, by the Rules of the Ro­man Discipline, Lying in these sorts of Matters was a Crime, which they sig­nificantly called, The Crime of False Combats. And Polybius makes this Re­mark, That if a Soldier had vaunted himself before an Officer, of a Piece of Service he had not done, he was sure to be punished as soon as he was there­of convicted. To be full of ones own Praises, though there may be some Truth at the Bottom, is not always al­lowable. Homer's Heroes are repre­sented [Page 180] as very valiant, but they some­times talk like Braggadochio's; and be­cause they boast of themselves at every Turn, in this they are not formed ac­cording to the Idaea of true Generosity, no more than in their continual Trans­ports of Passion: Which made one of the Ancients say, Nihil soedius Heroibus Homericis: Nothing is more fulsom than Homer' s Heroes. The most celebrated Men of Greece and Italy have often fail­ed in this important Part of Morality: And we must confess, that the generous Alexander was not always generous in this Point. The certain and sure Rule which one ought to follow, is, to con­sider this Self-applauding, either as hurtful, or unprofitable; or as neces­sary. When it is hurtful, we should forbear in point of Prudence: When it is unprofitable, we should forbear in point of Modesty: But when it is ne­cessary, we must then strain a Point, and applaud our own Actions, as well out of that Justice which we owe to our selves, as others. And therefore, when Historians describe Princes to us, who, to animate their Troops before the Bat­tel, make Harangues, and tell them, [Page 181] that they have a Leader who fears no Dangers, and puts them in mind of o­ther Occasions wherein he hath signali­zed his Courage, they do not consider this sort of Discourse as savouring of Pride, but as generous. A certain Prince at Sea, finding himself within Sight of the Enemy's Fleet, which was ready to attack him, heard one of the Soldiers say, The Enemy's Ships are much more in Number than ours; he turns himself sud­denly to the Soldier, and asked him, For how many dost thou count me? This was not Arrogance, it was a becoming Confidence. And although, by these Words, the Prince comprehended his own Praises, yet the Expression was not less fine, than that which is related of Pelopidas: He leads his Troops through a Place where he did not believe he should be forced to an Engagement: In the mean time, he perceived the E­nemies on a sudden, and that he could not avoid fighting. Saith one of his Officers to him, We are fallen into the Hands of our Enemies. No, saith he; the Enemies are fallen into ours.

CHAP. XIX.
The Valour of a Prince ought to be accompanied with the Love of Learning.

BEfore I come to observe another Qualification, which is advanta­geous when accompanied with Valour, I believe I am obliged to tell You, that it is not so essential, nor so important, as those two of which I have been dis­coursing, Generosity and Justice. We cannot treat Morality with too much Freedom and Sincerity. Vertue sur­mounts all other Things in such a man­ner, that when a vertuous Man is pos­sessed of them, his Merit flows princi­pally from that which is vertuous in him; and when he is vertuous, though he be not possessed of them, yet we must needs always observe in him a good Foundation for true Glory. We commonly fansie Old Rome to be the Seat of the Sciences; and, as a Polite Com­monwealth, we cannot form this No­tion [Page 183] of her in her Infancy; for, during more than Four Hundred Years, this People remained in a profound Igno­rance, and an extream Aversion for Learning. Those Men, though they were rough and unpolished, yet they were brave: And, as one hath said of them, They knew not how to do any Thing, but to till the Ground, and kill their Ene­mies. However, we admire the Heroes she produced in those first Ages; and we have Reason to admire them. We shall not find a less Interval of Time between the Foundation of Athens, and the Honour she had to be the Mother of the Arts. Since she became so fa­mous for Eloquence, she produced a great Captain; who, though he had not an ordinary Politeness for an Athe­nian, yet he gained Battels at Land and Sea for them: And of whom one said, Cimon was as valiant as Miltia­des, as prudent as Themistocles, and more just than either Themistocles, or Miltiades. Although he had not so much Agreeableness of Spirit, as he had Grandeur of Soul, yet he acqui­red immortal Renown. They placed him in the Rank of the Illustrious, [Page 184] and have wrote his Life. And if we may observe therein some little De­fect, yet a slight Indecency is not ca­pable to sully the Glory of his Repu­tation. On the other side, Though Princes are endued with Politeness; yet, if those other more solid Quali­ties, which we have touched upon in this Discourse, are not conspicuous in them, we must ingenuously confess the Truth, they cannot acquire a true E­steem in the World: And if they de­sire to be numbred amongst the He­roes of it, their Ambition meets with so many Obstacles, that it is impos­sible to surmount them. But behold the Judgment one ought to make up­on the Sciences, that so we may not ascribe too much to them, nor dero­gate too much from them. They are to be esteemed for Three Things: First, They are able to inspire ver­tuous Notions. Besides, When they accompany Vertue, they appear more refined, and are rendred more amia­ble. And Lastly, They are useful to preserve the Memoirs of Grand At­chievments; whether it be by the Pen of him that performed them, or [Page 185] by that of other learned Men, who dedicate their nocturnal Studies and La­bours to his Honour.

CHAP. XX.
Without the Assistance of Lear­ning, a Prince knows not how to immortalize his A­ctions.

IT would be difficult to find Princes, who, after having formed a Design of distinguishing themselves from the rest of Mankind by their Valour, have not, at the same Time, apprehended, that they stand in need of the Assistance of the Learned, to eternize the Me­mory of their Exploits. One Day A­lexander finding himself oppressed un­der the Weights and Fatigues of War, cried out, If you did but know, O Athe­nians, what I suffer, to merit your Prai­ses! Amongst the Treasures of the Spoils of Darius, they found a Cabinet [Page 186] of inestimable Value. And at an En­tertainment in the Presence of Alexan­der, his Courtiers asking what it was he would put into so precious a Cabi­net: I designed, saith he, to put Homer' s Works into it. And he used it actually for that purpose. Amongst those they call the Twelve Caesars, the greatest in Esteem are the Two first. We may add to them Vespasiam. I shall say no­thing upon the Two first, for them we should speak but too much: But Vespa­sian had no less a Love for the Arts, than either of them. It was he, whose Protection and Encouragement brought forth a Swarm of fine Wits; which, without doubt, must give place to those who were in the Time of Augu­stus; and yet, nevertheless, they merit very great Esteem. Pompey lowred the Consulary Fasces before Possidonius his House, when he went to give him a Visit. Trajan made Dion Chrysostom sit on one Side of him, in his Chair of Triumph. Scipio ordained, that the Status of Ennius should be placed up­on his Monument: And another was erected in the publick Place, to the Honour of Claudian, by the Order [Page 187] of Arcadius and Honorius. Charle­maign and Francis the First were, in their Times, the Fathers of Learning. Philip Augustus was also found of it. There is at this Day extant a kind of History in Verse, called the Philippeids. He honoured the Author with his Royal Favours; and though it was not wor­thy so great a Prince, that was his Mis­fortune, and not his Crime. Charles the Fifth followed these excellent Ex­amples. He esteemed the Learned, and the Sciences: And if he did not make therein so great a Progress as was ex­pected, under the Conduct of that sage Governor whom Lewis the Twelfth had provided for him; and improved not so much as was hoped he would have done, under the Care and Pains of a Tutor who afterwards arrived to the Supream Pontificate; yet he signified his Sorrow for it. History observes, that an Harangue in Latin having been made before him at the City of Genoua, when he understood not the meaning of it; It happens now (saith he) what I have long Time fore-told; that I should repent one Day, that I had not applied my self to Study. Nay, even Hannibal himself had [Page 188] a particular Affection for Learned Men. And the very Turks themselves, who pass for Barbarians (and so they are in many Things, yet) would seen in this to give some Ground to their Reputa­tion. Those who are famous, above others, in their History, are, Mahomet the Second, and Solyman: The one ex­tended the Bounds of the Empire, and the other established it: They both of them took care to cultivate their Ge­nius. The Education which these Infi­dels bestow on their Princes is not very far from this Maxim: They teach them the Persian Language, to enable them to read their History and Poesie. In Truth, they are but irregular Works, in comparison of those which the Greeks and Latins have left us: Their Chrono­logy is fabulous, and their Eloquence adulterate. But if they delight in this mean sort of Learning, because they understand it; it is very probable, that if they were acquainted with more per­fect Sciences, they would better esteem them.

CHAP. XXI.
How the Qualities of Wit or Parts serve to inhaunce the Esteem of a valiant Man.

IT is a common Opinion, saith Ta­citus, that Soldiers, take them ge­nerally, are seldom polite: And there­fore the refined Qualities of the Soul serve extreamly to increase the Esteem of a valiant Man, because they make a glorious Exception from this General Rule. And besides, they make it ap­parent, that his Courage is not a blind Transport of Anger, nor an inconside­rate Heat of Youth, nor the Effect of any other Principles less commendable; but a true Vertue, conducted by the Light of Reason, and animated by the Emulation of good Examples. Far­ther; All Things which have any Re­lation to the Arts, contribute so high­ly to the Glory of a valiant Prince, that we many times admire that in him, which we scarce take notice of, [Page 190] or perhaps blame, in another Person. Though Agriculture be never so inno­cent a sort of Life, yet if we should see a Prince delight in it, who had ne­ver acquired a Reputation in War, when Opportunities have courted him thereunto, we should scarce forgive him this Fondness; nor should we en­dure to see him dress up Palms and Lawrels, who knows not how to merit Crowns. But the Lacedaemonian, who saw Cyrus the Younger in his Gardens, conceived a quite contrary Opinion: The Adventure is remarkable; and as it had respect to a great Prince, and an illustrious Private Man, it seems to me not unworthy to be related to You. Lysander, whom Courage and Victo­ries had rendred very famous, was sent Ambassador from the Lacedaemonians, to Cyrus, surnamed The Younger, to di­stinguish him from Cyrus who founded the Monarchy, and who, according to the common Opinion, was slain in his Wars against the Scythians; he was then in the City of Sardis, the Metro­polis of that Realm, which the Per­sians had made one of the Provinces of their Empire, and which they had con­quered [Page 191] from the rich and unfortunate Croesus. There was a Conformity of Merit between the Prince and the Am­bassador, the Result whereof was, a Complacency in the Society one of another. Cyrus treated him in all Things worthy his Grandeur: And one Day taking him into his Gardens, which were kept by his Order, with Royal Expences, Lysander could not forbear to admire the Stateliness of the Trees, the Length of the Alleys, the Compartment of the Parterres, the A­bundance of Flowers, and of Fruits; and, above all, the fine Order where­in every Thing was disposed. When Cyrus perceived him in this Surprize, You do not believe (saith he to him) that all this was my Invention. I drew the Platform my self; and, amongst these Trees, you may see some that were planted with my own Hands. The Ambassador was then more astonished, and cast his Eyes upon the Magnificence of that Prince's Habit, which was nothing like that of a Gardener; and thinking, at the same Time, upon the Glory of his Actions, You are happy, cries he, O great Prince, forasmuch as in you Vertue [Page 192] is joyned with Fortune. This was the Opinion he had of the Merit of Cyrus, which caused him to make that Re­flection. For, if he had had to do with a Man whom he had not esteemed for his Courage, he had despised this Adventure, instead of admiring it. He would not have been surprized, that an effeminate Prince should seek out such Amusements, to divert his idle Hours: And it would have been the Subject of his Indignation, to have seen him take more Care to plant his Trees, and dress his Gardens, than to govern his People, and command his Armies.

CHAP. XXII.
Continuance of the same Re­flections.

I Know not how it happens; that Wit which one would think should help to conceal the Defect of Courage▪ serves rather to discover it. Whether [Page 193] it be, because a Man of Wit hath more Eyes upon him than others, and one or other will spy out his weak Side: Or whether it be, that Envy endeavours to find some Defect in him, which seems to make an Atonement for the Displea­sure it hath conceived for the Advanta­ges he possesseth: Or whether it be the Artifices he makes use of to avoid Dan­gers; discover the Fear wherewith he is agitated. As one may observe amongst the Animals; those that are fearful, appear to be so much the more, as they have Cunning joyned with Timorous­ness. Wit is then a Light which disco­vers equally the Good, and the Bad: And Cowardice, instead of finding an Asylum, wherein it may hide it self, meets with a Flash, which betrays it, and renders it more exposed. It must also be owned, on the other side, that the Valour of a Prince makes a greater Figure, when he is Master of an happy Genius, and hath taken Pains to cultivate it. Then we are ravished to see that, under what Circumstances so­ever he appears, he comes off with Ad­vantage; knows how to act well, and to speak well, that he can inspire Fear [Page 194] into his Enemies, and Love into his Subjects. Then a Thousand happy Ex­pressions fall from him, which all the World collects with Care; and they being spread amongst the People, re­double the Esteem they have for their Sovereign, and confirm them in the Love of Loyalty: They are transferred to After-Ages, and are as eternal as the famous Sayings of the Lacedaemonians, which have been as faithfully preserved as consecrated Relicks; but had never been derived down to us, had they not been spoken by one of the most valiant Nations in the World. A King who joyns the Qualities of Address to that of Courage, and Eloquence to Undaunted­ness, makes present Repartees and Re­plies to premeditated Discourses: He indicts Letters, which bear the Chara­cter of his Dignity; and may be his own Historian, if he will himself: He relish­eth and understands what is sweetest in his Triumphs, the Encomium of his Ver­tue: And, amongst all the Praises they bestow upon him, he distinguisheth those which Posterity may be ignorant of, from those which ought to be im­mortal. All the Arts and Sciences con­spire [Page 195] together for his Glory; and are equally allured to this Devoir by the Renown of his Actions, and the Equity of his Judgments. A Roman, that had been Consul, writing to a learned Man whom he had recommended to Caesar, and upon whom Caesar had bestowed his Friendship, Rejoyce, saith he, in that you are introduced into a Place, where they understand you are worth something. Un­der the Reign of an illustrious Prince, the Homers, the Demosthenes's, the Thu­cydides's, all speak the same Language. This Consideration is that which conti­nually charms their Nocturnal Studies: And what Pains soever they are at, this is that which sweetens and renders them agreeable. They feel a sensible Joy, that their Hero, who knows how to make Conquests, and reap Victories, knows also in what manner they ought to be celebrated. They are ambitious of his Approbation, as the most noble of all their Recompences; and submitting their Works to him, to whom they have consecrated them, they esteem them­selves happy, that he who is the Object of those Praises, is, at the same Time, the Judge and Dispenser of them.

CHAP. XXIII.
The Learning of a Prince ought not to be affected.

FInally, The Learning of a Prince, to make it worthy of Valour, ought not to be affected, as was that of A­drian, who took a Pride in attempting those Things wherein he never suc­ceeded; or as that of Tiberius, who made use of an obscure Language, al­though he was able to express himself as clearly as any; and by his odd Opi­nions of the Merit of Authors, prefer­red those who were little known, and less esteemed. He tired the Gramma­rians of his Time with ridiculous Que­stions; sometimes addicted himself to an insatiable Curiosity in Learning, which Seneca justly stiles an Intempe­rance. Kings ought to shun this, as a Rock; and to consider, God hath not sent them into the World to shut them­selves up in a dull Solitude, and to pore all their Life-time upon dead Men's La­bours; but to appear upon the Throne, [Page 197] to enlighten the World by their Pre­sence, and to live continually in Action. There is no Part of Science, but what is capable to take up a Man's Life-time, if he will search into the vain Quirks and Subtilties of it, and not be con­tent with necessary Deductions. These sorts of Excess will be injurious to a Prince, although they arise from a De­sire to apprehend the Bottom of those Arts which have a more immediate Re­lation to Royalty or Valour. It seems, the Knowledge of the Laws cannot be too well understood by him, seeing that we exercise Justice in his Name. And likewise, that he cannot be too well skilled in Fortifications: He hath Forts himself, and so have his Enemies; and therefore he ought to know how to de­fend the one, and attack the other. Yet if he will altogether dive to the Bottom of these Arts, and refine upon them, so well as the profoundest Law­yer, or the most able Engineer, he must do nothing else during his whole Reign. The Extent of his Employs oblige him to divide himself: The Character of Sovereignty is, to have a general Inspection over all. A King [Page 198] knows enough of the Arts and Sciences, provided he can but know when he is well or ill served, not only in respect of Zeal, but of Capacity: Then he is a Lawyer, and an Engineer, by those that are so; and he makes their Science his own. We cannot carry this Refle­ction too far; for, through the Want of this due Consideration and Guidance, many Princes come short of that Glory which waited for them; and never fil­led up the Grandeur of their Dignity so much as they were capable of. It has oft-times been said, it is with a Realm, as with a Ship; and with a So­vereign, as with a Pilot. A Thousand Work-men contribute to the making of a Ship, or to its Tackle: One furnish­eth her with Anchors; another, with Masts or Sail-yards; others, with Ca­bles or Sails. If a Pilot propound to himself, fully to understand every of these particular Matters, and to make them himself, with his own Hands, ei­ther Canvass or Cordage, he will run a great Hazard, never to acquit himself well in his own Profession: For, one of these two Things must follow; that either he will learn this Art out of his [Page 199] Ship, and by consequence, abandon the Conduct thereof; or he will apply him­self to it during the Course of his Na­vigation, and then we cannot think our selves safe with him, but shall have Reason to fear, that his continual Di­stractions will soon occasion a Ship­wreck. There are some Arts which a Prince ought to condemn, and others which he ought to despise; some which he must leave to others, and forbear himself; and there are others which he may understand without practising them. In short, There are some which he may practise too; nevertheless, without entring into Concurrence or Partnership with those who make a Profession thereof.

The Conclusion of the Work.

WHen a Prince knows how to make so judicious a Difference; when (I say) his Knowledge in that Part of Learning which is necessary, and his Love generally to all the Scien­ces, [Page 200] is joyned to Generosity and Ju­stice; and that these Qualifications united together, accompany Valour in the Person of a Prince; out of this Composition results an Hero, which becomes the Delicacy of the whole Earth. It is by this Means, that such may pretend, not only to equal, but to surpass the greatest Men of Antiqui­ty. And it seems to me, that what they call, Field of Glory, ought to be considered as a Race-Course, where the Prize is not yet adjudged; because we cannot know whether those who have already exercised there, shall not be surpassed by some of those who are now exercising in this Field, or that shall hereafter enter thereinto. The Cyrus's, the Alexanders, the Caesars, the Constantines, and the Theodofius's, have appeared in this Course with great Splendour: But how great so­ever their Reputation hath been, yet it hath not fore-closed our Hopes: That when our Modern Warriours do aspire to out-do them, considering the vast Gifts they have received from Heaven, their Ambition will not be found Temerarious.

[Page 201] I have said nothing but what the Heroick have made appear by their first Motions and Active Inclinations: And if any thing render this piece a­greeable, it will not be that Novelty, which is, however, one of the greatest Charms in the Products of Wit; but I am assured, the Brave will have the same Pleasure that one has, when he hears that Praised which he loves. And besides, as the Rulers of Vertue are the true Commendations of those that Practise them, I do not doubt, for that Reason, but that this Discourse will one Day become their Encomium.

FINIS.

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