[Page] [Page] PARADOXES, PROBLEMES, ESSAYES, CHARACTERS, Written By D r DONNE Dean of PAULS: To which is added a Book of EPIGRAMS: Written in Latin by the same Author; translated into English by I: MAINE, D. D.

As also Ignatius his Conclave, A SATYR, Translated out of the Originall Copy written in Latin by the same Author; found lately amongst his own Papers.

De Iesuitorum dissidiis.

Quos pugnare, Scholis, clamāt, hi, (discite Regna)
Non sunt Unanimes, conveniunt (que) nimis.

London, Printed by T: N: for Humphrey Moseley at the Prince's Armes in St Pauls Churchyard, 1652.

The Table.
  • PARADOXES.
    • I. A Defence of Womens Incon­stancy. 1
    • II. That Women ought to paint 7
    • III. That by Discord Things increase. 10
    • IV. That Good is more common then Evill 13
    • V. That all things kill themselves 16
    • VI. That it is possible to finde some ver­tue in some Women. 18
    • VII. That Old men are more fantasticke then Young. 20
    • VIII. That Nature is our worst Guide. 23
    • IX. That only Cowards dare lye, 26
    • [Page] X. That a Wise Man is known by much laughing. 29
    • XI. That the Gifts of the Body are bet­ter then those of the Minde. 33
    • XII. That Virginity is a Vertue. 81
  • PROBLEMS.
    • I. WHy have Bastards the best Fortune. 38
    • II. Why Puritans make long Sermons. 41
    • III. Why did the Devil reserve Iesuites till these latter dayes. 42
    • IV. Why is there more variety of Green then of other colours. 43
    • V. Why doe young Lay-men so much study Divinity. 44
    • VI. Why hath the common Opinion af­forded Women souls. 45
    • [Page] VII. Why are the Fairest falsest. 47
    • VIII. Why Venus-Star only doth cast a shadow? 49
    • IX. Why is Venus-star multinominous, called both Hesperus & Vesper? 52
    • X. Why are New Officers least oppres­sing? 54
    • XI. VVhy doth the Pox so much affect to undermine the Nose? 66
    • XII. VVhy die none for Love now? 58
    • XIII. VVhy doe women delight much in Feathers? 59
    • XIV. VVhy doth not Gold soyle the Fin­gers? ib.
    • XV. VVhy doe Great men of all depen­dants, choose to preserve their little Pimps? 60
    • XVI. VVhy are Courtiers sooner A­theists, [Page] then men of other condi­tions? 61
    • XVII. VVhy are Statesmen most incredu­lous? 62
  • CHARACTERS.
    • THe Character of a Scot at the first sight. 65
    • The true Character of a Dunce. 67
  • AN Essay of Valour, 72
  • A Sheaf of Miscellany Epi­grams, 88
  • IGnatius nis Conclave, 107

Ben. Johnson to the Author.

WHo can doubt, Donne, where I a Poet bee?
When I dare send my Epigrams to thee
That so alone canst judge, so alone dost make:
And in thy censures, evenly, dost take
As free simplicitie, to disavow,
As thou hast best authority t' allow:
Read all I send: and, if I finde but one
Mark'd by thy hand, and with the better stone
My title's seal'd. Those that for claps do write,
Let punies, porters, players praise delight,
And till they burst, their backs, like asses load:
A man should seek great glory, and not broad.

PARADOXES.

I. A Defence of Womens Inconstancy.

THat Women are Inconstant, I with any man confess, but that Inconstancy is a bad quality, I a­gainst any man will maintain: For every thing as it is one bet­ter than another, so is it fuller of change; The Heavens themselves continually turn, the Stars move, the Moon changeth; Fire whirl­eth, Aire flyeth, Water ebbs and flowes, the face of the Earth al­tereth her looks, time staies not; the Colour that is most light, [Page 2] will take most dyes: so in Men, they that have the most reason are the most inalterable in their designes, and the darkest or most ignorant, do seldomest change; therfore Women changing more than Men, have also more Reason. They cannot be immutable like stocks, like stones, like the Earths dull Center; Gold that lyeth still, rusteth; Water, corrupt­eth; Aire that moveth not, poy­soneth; then why should that which is the perfection of other things, be imputed to Women as greatest imperfection? Because thereby they deceive Men. Are not your wits pleased with those jests, which cozen your expecta­tion? You can cal it pleasure to be beguil'd in troubles, and in the most excellent toy in the world, you call it Treachery: I would you had your Mistresses so con­stant, that they would never change, no not so much as their smocks, then should you see what sluttish vertue, Constancy were. Inconstancy is a most commenda­ble [Page 3] and cleanly quality, and Wo­men in this quality are far more absolute than the Heavens, than the Stars, Moon, or any thing beneath it; for long observati­on hath pickt certainty out of their mutability. The Learned are so well acquainted with the Stars, Signes and Planets, that they make them but Characters, to read the meaning of the Hea­ven in his own forehead. Every simple fellow can bespeak the change of the Moon a great while beforehand: but I would fain have the learnedst man so skilfull, as to tell when the simplest Wo­man meaneth to vary. Learning affords no rules to know, much less knowledge to rule the minde of a Woman. For as Philosophy teacheth us, that Light things do always tend upwards, and heavy things decline downward; Ex­perience teacheth us otherwise, that the disposition of a Light Woman, is to fall down, the na­ture of women being contrary to all Art and Nature. Women [Page 4] are like Flies, which feed among us at our Table, or Fleas sucking our very blood, who leave not our most retired places free from their familiarity, yet for all their fellowship will they never be ta­med nor commanded by us. Wo­men are like the Sun, which is vi­olently carried one way, yet hath a proper course contrary: so though they, by the mastery of some over-ruling churlish hus­bands, are forced to his Byas, yet have they a motion of their own, which their husbands never know of: It is the nature of nice and fastidious mindes to know things only to be wary of them: Women by their slye changeableness, and pleasing dou­bleness, prevent even the mislike of those, for they can never be so well known, but that there is still more unknown. Every woman is a Science; for he that plods upon a woman all his life long, shall at length finde himself short of the knowledge of her: they are born to take down the pride [Page 5] of wit, and ambition of wisdom, making fools wise in the adventu­ring to win them, wisemen fools in conceit of losing their labours; witty men stark mad, being con­founded with their uncertainties. Philosophers write against them for spight, not desert, that having attained to some knowledge in all other things, in them only they know nothing, but are meerly ig­norant: Active and Experienced men rail against them, because they love in their liveless and de­crepit age, when all goodness leaves them. These envious Li­bellers ballad against them, be­cause having nothing in themselvs able to deserve their love, they maliciously discommend all they cannot obtain, thinking to make men believe they know much, because they are able to dispraise much, and rage against Inconstan­cy, when they were never admit­ted into so much favour as to be forsaken. In mine opinion such men are happie that women are Inconstant, for so may they chance [Page 6] to be beloved of some excellent woman when it comes to their turn out of their Inconstancy and mutability, though not out of their own desert. And what reason is there to clog any wo­man with one man, be he never so singular? Women had rather, and it is far better and more Ju­dicial to enjoy all the vertues in several men, than but some of them in one, for otherwise they lose their taste, like divers sorts of meat minced together in one dish: and to have all excellencies in one man (if it were possible) is Confusion and Diversity. Now who can deny, but such as are obstinately bent to undervalue their worth, are those that have not soul enough to comprehend their excellency, women being the most excellent Creatures, in that man is able to subject all things else, and to grow wise in every thing, but still persists a fool in woman? The greatest Scholler, if he once take a wife, is found so unlearned, that he [Page 7] must begin his Horn-book, and all is by Inconstancy. To con­clude therefore; this name of Inconstancy, which hath so much been poysoned with slanders, ought to be changed into variety, for the which the world is so de­lightfull, and a woman for that the most delightfull thing in this world.

II. That Women ought to Paint.

FOulness is Lothsome: can that be so which helps it? who forbids his beloved to gird in her waste? to mend by shooing her uneven lameness? to burnish her teeth? or to perfume her breath? yet that the Face be more pre­cisely regarded, it concerns more: For as open confessing sinners are always punished, but the wa­ry and concealing offenders with­out witness, do it also without punishment; so the secret parts [Page 8] needs the less respect; but of the Face, discovered to all Examina­tions and surveys, there is not too nice a Jealousie. Nor doth it only draw the busie Eyes, but it is subject to the divinest touch of all, to kissing, the strange and mystical union of souls. If she should prostitute her self to a more unworthy man than thy self, how earnestly and justly wouldst thou exclaim? that for want of this easier and ready way of repairing, tobetray her body to ruine and deformity (the tyrannous Ravishers, and sodain Deflourers of all women) what a hainous adultery is it? What thou lovest in her face is colour, and painting gives that, but thou hatest it, not because it is, but be­cause thou knowest it. Fool, whom ignorance makes happy, the Stars, the Sun, the Skye whom thou admirest, alas, have no colour, but are fair, because they seem to be coloured: If this seeming will not satisfie thee in her, thou hast good assurance of [Page 9] her colour, when thou seest her lay it on. If her face be painted on a Board or Wall, thou wilt love it, and the Board, and the Wall: Canst thou loath it then when it speaks, smiles, and kisses, because it is painted? Are we not more delighted with seeing Birds, Fruits, and Beasts painted then we are with Naturals? And do we not with pleasure behold the painted shape of Monsters and Devils, whom true, we durst not regard? We repair the ruines of our houses, but first cold tem­pests warns us of it, and bites us through it; we mend the wrack and stains of our apparel, but first our eyes, and other bodies are offended; but by this pro­vidence of Women, this is pre­vented. If in Kissing or breath­ing upon her, the painting fall off, thou art angry, wilt thou be so, if it stick on? Thou didst love her, if thou beginnest to hate her, then 'tis because she is not painted. If thou wilt say now, thou didst hate her before, thou [Page 10] didst hate her and love her toge­ther, be constant in something, and love her who shews her great love to thee, in taking this pains to seem lovely to thee.

III. That by Discord things in­crease.
Nullos esse Deos, inane Coelum Affirmat Coelius, probat (que) quod se Factum vidit, dum negat haec, beatum.

SO I assevere this the more boldly, because while I main­tain it, and feel the Contrary re­pugnancies and adverse fightings of the Elements in my Body, my Body increaseth; and whilst I differ from common opinions by this Discord, the number of my Paradoxes increaseth. All the rich benefits we can frame to our selves in Concord, is but an Even [Page 11] conservation of things; in which Evenness vve can expect no change, no motion; therefore no increase or augmentation, which is a member of motion. And if this unity and peace can give in­crease to things, how mightily is discord and war to that purpose, which are indeed the only ordi­nary Parents of Peace. Discord is never so barren that it affords no fruit; for the fall of one e­state is at the worst the increaser of another, because it is as im­possible to finde a discommodity without advantage, as to finde Corruption without Generation: But it is the Nature and Office of Concord to preserve onely, which property when it leaves, it differs from it self, which is the greatest discord of all. All Victories and Emperies gained by war, and all Iudiciall decidings of doubts in peace, I do claim children of Discord. And who can deny but Controversies in Religion are grown greater by Discord, and not the Controversie, but Religion [Page 12] it self: For in a troubled misery men are always more Religious then in a secure peace. The num­ber of good men, the only chari­table nourishers of Concord, we see is thin, and daily melts and wains; but of bad discording it is infinite, and growes hourly. We are ascertained of all Dispu­table doubts, only by arguing and differing in Opinion, and if for­mal disputation (which is but a painted, counterfeit, and dissem­bled discord) can work us this be­nefit, what shall not a full and main discord accomplish? True­ly me thinks I owe a devotion, yea a sacrifice to discord, for casting that Ball upon Ida, and for all that business of Troy, whom ruin'd I admire more then Baby­lon, Rome, or Quinzay, removed Corners, not only fulfilled with her fame, but with Cities and Thrones planted by her Fugi­tives. Lastly, between Cowar­dice and despair, Valour is gen­dred; and so the Discord of Ex­treams begets all vertues, but of [Page 13] the like things there is no issue without a miracle:

Vxor pessima, pessimus maritus
Miror tam malè convenire.

He wonders that between two so like, there could be any discord, yet perchance for all this discord there was ne're the less increase.

IV. That Good is more common then Evil.

I Have not been so pittifully tired with any vanity, as with silly Old Mens exclaiming against these times, and extolling their own: Alas! they betray them­selves, for if the times be changed, their manners have changed them. But their senses are to pleasures, as sick mens tastes are to Liquors; for indeed no new thing is done in the world, all things are what, and as they were, and Good is as ever it was, more plenteous, and must of necessity [Page 14] be more common then Evil, because it hath this for nature and per­fection to be common. It makes Love to all Natures, all, all af­fect it. So that in the worlds early Infancy, there was a time when nothing was evil, but if this world shall suffer dotage in the extreamest crookedness there­of, there shall be no time when nothing shall be good. It dares appear and spread, and glister in the world, but evil buries it self in night and darkness, and is chas­tised and suppressed when good is cherished and rewarded And as Imbroderers, Lapidaries, and other Artisans, can by all things adorn their works; for by ad­ding better things, the better they shew in Lush and in emi­nency; so good doth not only prostrate her amiableness to all, but refuses no end, no not of her utter contrary evil, that she may be the more common to us. For evil manners are parents of good Laws; and in every evil there is an excellency, which (in common [Page 15] speech) we call good. For the fashions of habits, for our mo­ving in gestures, for phrases in our speech, we say they were good as long as they were used, that is as long as they were common; and we eat, we walk, only when it is, or seems good to do so. All fair, all profitable, all vertuous, is, good, and these three things I think imbrace all things, but their utter contraries; of which also fair may be rich and vertu­ous; poor may be vertuous and fair; vitious may be fair and rich; so that good hath this good means to be common, that some subjects she can possess intirely; and in subjects poysoned with e­vil, she can humbly stoop to ac­company the evil. And of in­different things many things are become perfectly good by being common, as customs by use are made binding Laws. But I re­member nothing that is therefore ill, because it is common, but wo­men, of whom also; They that are most common, are the best [Page 16] of that Occupation they pro­fess.

V. That all things kill themselves.

TO affect, yea to effect their own death all living things are importuned, not by Na­ture only which perfects them, but by Art and Education, which perfects her. Plants quickened and inhabited by the most un­worthy soul, which therefore nei­ther will nor work, affect an end, a perfection, a death; this they spend their spirits to attain, this attained, they languish and wi­ther. And by how much more they are by mans Industry war­med, cherished and pampered; so much the more early they climb to this perfection, this death. And if amongst men not to defend be to kill, what a hai­nous [Page 17] self, murther is it, not to de­fend it self. This defence because Beasts neglect, they kill them­selves, because they exceed us in number, strength, and a lawless li­berty: yea, of Horses and other beasts, they that inherit most cou­rage by being bred of gallantest parents, and by Artificial nursing are bettered, will run to their own deaths, neither sollicited by spurs which they need not, nor by honour which they apprehend not. If then the valiant kill him­self, who can excuse the Coward? Or how shall man be free from this, since the first man taught us this, except we cannot kill our selves, because he kill'd us all. Yet least something should repair this common ruine, we daily kill our bodies with surfeits, and our minds with anguishes. Of our powers, remembring kils our me­mory: Of affections, Lusting our lust; Of vertues, Giving kils liberality. And if these kil them­selves, they do it in their best and supream perfection: for after per­fection [Page 18] immediately follows ex­cess, which changeth the natures and the names, and makes them not the same things. If then the best things kill themselves soon­est, (for no affection endures, and all things labour to this perfecti­on) all travel to their own death, yea the frame of the whole world, if it were possible for God to be idle, yet because it began, must die. Then in this idleness imagin­ed in God, what could kill the world but it self, since out of it, nothing is?

VI. That it is possible to finde some ver­tue in some Women.

I Am not of that seard Impu­dence that I dare defend Wo­men, or pronounce them good, yet we see Physitians allow some vertue in every poyson. Alas! why should we except Women? since cerrtainly they are good for [Page 19] Physick at least, so as some wine is good for a feaver. And though they be the Occasioners of many sins, they are also the Punishers and Revengers of the same sins: For I have seldom seen one which consumes his substance and body upon them, escape diseases, or beggery; and this is their Justice. And if suum cuique dare, be the fulfilling of all Civil Iustice, they are most just; for they deny that which is theirs to no man,

Tanquam non liceat nulla puella negat.

And who may doubt of great wisdome in them, that doth but observe with how much labour and cunning our Iusticers and o­ther dispensers of the Laws studie to imbrace them: and how zea­lously our Preachers dehort men from them, only by urging their subtilties and policies, and wisdom, which are in them? Or who can deny them a good measure of Fortitude, if he consider how va­liant men they have overthrown, and being themselvs overthrown, [Page 20] how much and how patiently they bear? And though they be most intemperate, I care not, for I undertook to furnish them with some vertue, not with all. Ne­cessity, which makes even bad things good, prevails also for them, for we must say of them, as of some sharp pinching Laws; If men were free from infirmities, they were needless. These or none must serve for reasons, and it is my great happiness that Ex­amples prove not Rules, for to confirm this Opinion, the World yeilds not one Example.

VII. That Old men are more Fantastick then Young.

WHo reads this Paradox but thinks me more fan­tastick now, than I was yester­day, when I did not think thus: And if one day make this sensible change in men, what will the bur­then of many years? To be fan­tastick [Page 21] in young men is conceit­full distemperature, and a witty madness; but in old men, whose senses are withered, it becomes na­tural, therfore more full and per­fect. For as when we sleep our fan­cy is most strong; so it is in age, which is a slumber of the deep sleep of death. They tax us of Inconstan­cy, which in themselves young they allowed; so that reproving that which they did approve, their In­constancy exceedeth ours, because they have changed once more then we. Yea, they are more idlely bu­sied in conceited apparel than we; for we, when we are melancholy, wear black; when lusty, green; when forsaken, tawny; pleasing our own inward affections, lea­ving them to others indifferent; but they prescribe laws, and con­strain the Noble, the Scholler, the Merchant, and all Estates to a certain habit. The old men of our time have changed with patience their own bodies, much of their laws, much of their languages; yea their Religion, yet they accuse [Page 22] us. To be Amorous is proper and natural in a young man, but in an old man most fantastick. And that ridling humour of Iealousie, which seeks and would not finde, which requires and repents his knowledg, is in them most com­mon, yet most fantastike. Yea, that which falls never in young men, is in them most fantastike and naturall, that is, Covetous­nesse; even at their journeys end to make great provision. Is any habit of young men so fantastike, as in the hottest seasons to be dou­ble-gowned or hooded like our El­ders? Or seemes it so ridiculous to weare long haire, as to weare none. Truely, as among the Phi­losophers, the Skeptike, which doubts all, was more contentious, then either the Dogmatick which affirmes, or Academike which de­nies all; so are these uncertain Elders, which both cals them fan­tastick which follow others in­ventions, and them also which are led by their own humorous suggestion, more fantastick then other.

VIII. That Nature is our Worst Guid.

SHall she be guide to all Crea­tures, which is her self one? Or if she also have a guide, shall any Creature have a better guide then we? The affections of lust and anger, yea even to err is na­tural, shall we follow these? Can she be a good guide to us, which hath corrupted not us only but her self? was not the first Man, by the desire of knowledge, cor­rupted even in the whitest inte­grity of Nature? And did not Na­ture, (if Nature did any thing) infuse into him this desire of knowledge, and so this corrupti­on in him, into us? If by Nature we shall understand our essence, our definition or reason, nobleness, then this being alike common to all (the Idiot and the Wizard be­ing equally reasonable) why should not all men having equally all one nature, follow one course? Or if we shall understand our incli nati­ons: [Page 24] alas! how unable a guide is that which follows the tempe­rature of our slimie bodies? for we cannot say that we derive our inclinations, our minds, or souls from our Parents by any way: to say that it is all from all, is er­ror in reason, for then with the first nothing remains, or is a part from all, is error in experience, for then this part equally impar­ted to many children, would like Gavel-kind lands, in few genera­tions become nothing: or to say it by communication, is error in Divinity, for to communicate the ability of communicating whole essence with any but God, is utter blasphemy. And if thou hit thy Fathers nature and inclination, he also had his Fathers, and so climbing up, all comes of one man, and have one nature, all shall imbrace one course; but that cannot be, therefore our com­plexions and whole bodies, we in­herit from Parents; our inclina­tions and minds follow that: For our minde is heavy in our bodies [Page 25] afflictions, and rejoyceth in our bodies pleasure: how then shall this nature governe us that is go­verned by the worst part of us? Nature though oft chased away, it will return; 'tis true, but those good motions and inspirations which be our guides must be woo­ed, courted, and welcomed, or else they abandon us. And that old Axiome, nihil invita, &c. must not be said thou shalt, but thou wilt doe nothing against Nature; so unwilling he notes us to curbe our naturall appetites. Wee call our bastards alwayes our naturall issue and we define a Foole by nothing so ordinary, as by the name of na­turall. And that poore know­ledg whereby we conceive what rain is, what wind, what thunder, we call Metaphysicke, supernatu­rall; such small things, such no things do we allow to our pliant Natures apprehension. Lastly, by following her we lose the plea­sant, and lawfull commodities of this life, for we shall drinke water and eate rootes, and those not [Page 26] sweet and delicate, as now by Mans art and industry they are made: we shall lose all the neces­sities of societies, lawes, arts, and sciences, which are all the worke­manship of Man: yea we shall lack the last best refuge of misery, death, because no death is naturall: for if yee will not dare to call all death violent (though I see not why sicknesses be not violences) yet causes of all deaths proceed of the defect of that which nature made perfect, and would preserve; and therefore all against nature.

IX. That only Cowards dare die.

EXtreames are equally remo­ved from the meane; so that headlong desperatenesse asmuch offends true valour, as backward Cowardice: of which sort I rec­kon justly all un-inforced deaths. When will your valiant man die of necessity? so Cowards suffer what cannot be avoided: and to [Page 27] run into death unimportun'd is to run into the first condemned de sperateness. Will he die when he is rich and happie? then by living he may do more good: and in affli­ctions and miseries, death is the chosen refuge of Cowards.

Fortiter ille facit qui miser esse potest.

But it is taught and practised a­mong our Gallants, that rather than our reputations suffer any maim, or we any misery, we shall offer our breasts to the Cannons mouth, yea to our swords points: And this seems a very brave and a very climbing (which is a Cow­ardly, earthly, and indeed a very groveling) spirit. vvhy do they chain these slaves to the Gallies, but that they thrust their deaths, and would at every loose leap in­to the Sea? vvhy do they take weapons from condemned men, but to barr them of that ease which Cowards affect, a speedy death. Truely this life is a tem­pest, and a warfare, and he which dares die, to escape the anguish of [Page 28] it, seems to me, but so valiant, as he which dares hang himself, least he be prest to the wars. I have seen one in that extremity of Me­lancholy, which was then become madness, to make his own breath an Instrument to stay his breath, and labour to choak himself; but alas! he was mad. And we knew another that languished under the oppression of a poor disgrace, so much, that he took more pains to die, then would have served to have nourished life and spirit enough to have out-liv'd his dis­grace. vvhat Fool will call this Cowardlyness, Valour? or this Baseness, Humility? And lastly, of these men which die the Alle­goricall death of entring into Re­ligion, how few are found fit for any shew of valiancy? but one­ly a soft and supple metal, made only for Cowardly solitariness.

X. That a Wise Man is known by much laughing.

RIdi, si sapis, ô puella ride; If thou beest wise, laugh: for since the powers of discourse, rea­son, and laughter, be equally pro­per unto Man only, why shall not he be only most wise, which hath most use of laughing, as well as he which hath most of reasoning and discoursing? I always did, and shall understand that Adage;

Per risum multum possis cogno­scere stultum,

That by much laughing thou maist know there is a fool, not, that the laughers are fools, but that among them there is some fool, at whom wise men laugh: which moved Erasmus to put this as his first Argument in the mouth of his Folly, that she made Beholders laugh: for fools are the most laughed at, and laugh the least themselves of any. And [Page 30] Nature saw this faculty to be so necessary in man, that she hath been content that by more causes we should be importuned to laugh, than to the exercise of any other power; for things in them­selves utterly contrary, beget this effect; for we laugh both at wit­ty and absurd things: At both which sorts I have seen men laugh so long, and so earnestly, that at last they have wept that they could laugh no more. And therefore the Poet having descri­bed the quietness of a wise retired man, saith in one, what we have said before in many lines; Quid facit Canius tuus? ridet. We have received that even the extre­mity of laughing, yea of weeping also, hath been accounted wis­dom: and that Democritus and Heraclitus, the lovers of these Extreams, have been called lo­vers of Wisdom. Now among our wise men I doubt not but ma­ny would be found, who would laugh at Heraclitus weeping, none which weep at Democritus laugh­ing. [Page 31] At the hearing of Comedies or other witty reports, I have no­ted some, which not understan­ding jests; &c. have yet chosen this as the best means to seem wise and understanding, to laugh when their Companions laugh; and I have presumed them igno­rant, whom I have seen unmoved. A fool if he come into a Princes Court, and see a gay man leaning at the wall, so glistring, and so painted in many colours that he is hardly discerned from one of the Pictures in the Arras, hanging his body like an Iron-bound chest, girt in and thick rib'd with broad gold laces, may (and commonly doth) envy him. But alas! shall a wise man, which may not only not en­vy, but not pitty this Monster, do nothing? Yes, let him laugh. And if one of these hot cholerick fire­brands, which nourish them­selves by quarrelling, and kind­ling others, spit upon a fool one sparke of disgrace, he, like a thatcht house quickly burning, may be angry; but the wise man, [Page 32] as cold as the Salamander, may not only not be angry with him, but not be sorry for him; there­fore let him laugh: so he shall be known a Man, because he can laugh, a wise Man that he knows at what to laugh, and a valiant Man that he dares laugh: for he that laughs is justly reputed more wise, then at whom it is laughed. And hence I think proceeds that which in these later formal times I have much noted; that now when our superstitious civilitie of manners is become a mutuall tickling flattery of one another, almost every man affecteth an humour of jesting, and is content to be deject, and to deform himself, yea become fool to no other end that I can spie, but to give his wise Companion occasion to laugh; and to shew themselves in prompt­ness of laughing is so great in wise men, that I think all wise men, if any wise man do read this Pa­radox, will laugh both at it and me.

XI. That the Gifts of the Body are better then those of the Minde.

I Say again, that the body makes the minde, not that it crea­ted it a minde, but forms it a good or a bad minde; and this minde may be confounded with soul without any violence or in­justice to Reason or Philosophy: then the soul it seems is enabled by our Body, not this by it. My Body licenseth my soul to see the worlds beauties through mine eyes: to hear pleasant things through mine ears; and affords it apt Organs for the convenience of all perceivable delight. But alas! my soul cannot make any part, that is not of it self dispo­sed to see or hear, though with­out doubt she be as able and as willing to see behinde as before. Now if my soul would say, that [Page 34] she enables any part to taste these pleasures, but is her selfe only delighted with those rich sweet­nesses which her inward eyes and senses apprehend, shee should dissemble; for I see her often solaced with beauties, which shee sees through mine eyes, and with musicke which through mine eares she heares. This perfection then my body hath, that it can impart to my minde all his plea­sures; and my mind hath still many, that she can neither teach my indisposed part her faculties, nor to the best espoused parts shew it beauty of Angels, of Musicke, of Spheres, whereof she boasts the contemplation. Are chastity, temperance, and fortitude gifts of the minde? I appeale to Physiti­ans whether the cause of these be not in the body; health is the gift of the body, and patience in sick­nesse the gift of the minde: then who will say that patience is as good a happinesse, as health, when wee must be extremely [Page 35] miserable to purchase this happi­nesse. And for nourishing of ci­vill societies and mutuall love a­mongst men, which is our chief end while we are men; I say, this beauty, presence, and proportion of the body, hath a more mascu­line force in begetting this love, then the vertues of the minde: for it strikes us suddenly, and pos­sesseth us immoderately; when to know those vertues require some Iudgement in him which shall discerne, a long time and conversation between them. And even at last how much of our faith and beleefe shal we be driven to bestow, to assure our selves that these vertues are not counter­feited: for it is the same to be, and seem vertuous, because that he that hath no vertue can dissem­ble none, but he which hath a little, may gild and enamell, yea and transforme much vice into vertue: For allow a man to be discreet and flexible to complaints, which are great vertuous gifts of the minde, this discretion will be [Page 36] to him the soule and Elixir of all vertues, so that touched with this even pride shall be made humili­ty; and Cowardice, honourable and wise valour. But in things seen there is not this danger, for the body which thou lovest and esteemest faire, is faire: certain­ly if it be not faire in perfection, yet it is faire in the same degree that thy Iudgment is good. And in a faire body, I do seldom sus­pect a disproportioned minde, and as seldome hope for a good in a deformed. When I see a goodly house, I assure my selfe of a wor­thy possessour, from a ruinous wea­ther-beaten building I turn away, because it seems either stuffed with varlots as a Prison, or hand­led by an unworthy and negligent tenant, that so suffers the wast therof. And truly the gifts of Fortune, which are riches, are on­ly handmaids, yea Pandars of the bodies pleasure; with their ser­vice we nourish health, and pre­serve dainty, and wee buy delights so that vertue which must be lov­ed [Page 37] for it selfe, and respects no further end, is indeed nothing: And riches, whose end is the good of the body, cannot be so perfectly good, as the end whereto it le­vels.

PROBLEMS.

I. Why have Bastards best Fortune?

BEcause Fortune her self is a Whore, but such are not most indulgent to their issue; the old na­tural reason (but those meeting in stoln love are most vehement, and so contribute more spirit then the easie and lawfull) might govern me, but that now I see Mistresses are be­come domestick and in ordinary, and they and wives wait but by turns, and agree as well as they had lived in the Ark.

The old Moral reason (that Ba­stards [Page 39] inherit wickedness from their Parents, and so are in a bet­ter way to preferment by having a stock before-hand, then those that build all their fortune upon the poor and weak stock of Origi­nal sin) might prevail with me, but that since we are fallen into such times, as now the World might spare the Devil, because she could be bad enough without him. I see men scorn to be wick­ed by example, or to be beholding to others for their damnation. It seems reasonable, that since Laws rob them of succession in civil be­nefits, they should have something else equivalent. As Nature (which is Laws pattern) having denyed Women Constancy to one, hath provided them with cunning to allure many; and so Bastards de jure should have bet­ter wits and experience. But be­sides that by experience we see many fools amongst them, we should take from them one of their chiefest helps to prefer­ment, and we should deny them [Page 40] to be fools: and (that which is only left) that women chuse wor­thier men then their husbands, is false de facto: either then it must be that the Church having remo­ved them from all place in the publick Service of God, they have better means than others to be wicked, and so fortunate: Or else because the two greatest powers in this world, the Devil and Prin­ces concur to their greatness: the one giving bastardy, the other legitimation: As Nature frames and conserves great bodies of con­traries. Or the cause is, because they abound most at Court, which is the forge where fortunes are made, or at least the shop where they be sold.

II. Why Puritans make long Sermons

IT needs not for perspicuousness, for God knows they are plain enough: nor do all of them use Sem-brief-Accents, for some of them have crotchets enough. It may be they intend not to rise like glorious Tapers and Torches, but like Thin-wretched-sick-watching-C [...]s, which languish and are in a Divine Consumption from the first minute, yea in their snuff, and stink, when others are in their more profitable glory. I have thought sometimes, that out of conscience, they allow long measure to course ware. And sometimes, that usurping in that place a li­berty to speak freely of Kings, they would reigne as long as they could. But now I think they do it out of a zealous imagination, that, It is their duty to Preach on till their Auditory wake.

III. Why did the Divel reserve Iesuites till these latter dayes.

DId he know that our Age would deny the Devils pos­sessing, and therefore provided by these to possesse men and king­domes? Or to end the disputation of Schoolmen, why the Divel could not make lice in Egypt; and whe­ther those things bee presented there, might be true; hath he sent us a true and reall plague, worse than those ten? Or in o [...]ntati­on of the greatness of his King­dome, which even division cannot shake, doth he send us these which disagree with all the rest? Or knowing that our times should discover the Indies, and abolish their Idolatry, doth he send these to give them another for it? Or peradventure they have been in the Roman Church these thousand yeeres, though we have called them by other names.

IV. Why is there more Variety of Green then of other Colours?

IT is because it is the figure of Youth wherin nature would provide as many green, as youth hath affections; and so present a Sea-green for profuse wasters in voyages; a Grasse-green for sud­den new men enobled from Grasi­ers; and a Goose-green for such Polititians as pretend to preserve the Capitol. Or else Propheti­cally foreseeing an age, wherein they shall all hunt. And for such as misdemeane themselves a Willo-green; For Magistrates must as­well have Fasces born before them to chastize the small offen­ces, as Secures to cut off the great.

V. Why do young Lay-men so much study Divinity.

IS it because others tending bu­sily Churches preferment, neg­lect study? Or had the Church of Rome shut up all our wayes, till the Lutherans broke down their uttermost stubborn doores, and the Calvinists picked their inwardest and subtlest lockes? Surely the Devill cannot be such a Foole to hope that he shall make this stu­dy contemptible, by making it common. Nor that as the Dwel­lers by the River Origus are said (by drawing infinite ditches to sprinkle their barren Country) to have exhausted and intercepted their main channell, and so lost their more profitable course to the sea; so we, by providing eve­ry ones selfe, divinity enough for his own use, should neglect our Teachers and Fathers. He can­not hope for better heresies then hee hath had, nor was his King­dome [Page 45] ever so much advanced by debating Religion (though with some aspersions of Error) as by a dull and stupid security, in which many gross things are swallowed. Possible out of such an ambition as we have now, to speake plainly and fellow-like with Lords and Kings, we thinke also to acquaint our selves with Gods secrets: or perchance when we study it by mingling humane respects, It is not Divinity.

VI. Why hath the common Opinion af­forded Women Soules?

IT is agreed that we have not so much from them as any part of either our mortal soules of sense or growth; and we deny soules to others equall to them in all but in speech for which they are be­holding to their bodily instruments For perchance an Oxes heart, or a Goates, or a Foxes, or a Serpents would speake just so, if it were in [Page 46] the breast, and could move that tongue and jawes. Have they so many advantages and means to hurt us (for, ever their loving de­stroyed us) that we dare not dis­please them, but give them what they will? And so when some call them Angels, some Goddesses, and the Palpulian Hereticks made them Bishops, we descend so much with the stream, to allow them Soules? Or do we some­what (in this dignifying of them) flatter Princes and great Per­sonages that are so much gover­ned by them? Or do we in that easiness and prodigality, wherein we daily lose our own souls to we care not whom, so labour to perswade our selves, that sith a woman hath a soul, a soul is no great matter? Or do we lend them souls but for use, since they for our sakes, give their souls again, and their bodies to boot? Or perchance because the Devil (who is all soul) doth most mischief, and for convenience and proportion, because they [Page 47] would come nearer him, we al­low them some souls; and so as the Romans naturalized some Provinces in revenge, and made them Romans, only for the bur­then of the Common-wealth; so we have given women souls on­ly to make them capable of dam­nation?

VII. Why are the fairest falsest.

I Mean not of fals Alchimy beau­ty, for then the question should be inverted, Why are the falsest fairest? It is not only because they are much solicited and sought for, so is gold, yet it is not so com­mon; and this suit to them, should teach them their value, and make them more reserved. Nor is it because the delicatest blood hath the best spirits, for what is that to the flesh? perchance such constitu­tions have the best wits, and there is [Page 48] no proportionable subject, for wo­mens wit, but deceit? doth the minde so follow the temperature of the body, that because those complexions are aptest to change, the mind is therefore so? Or as Bels of the purest metal retain their tinkling and sound largest; so the memory of the last pleasure lasts longer in these, and dispo­seth them to the next: But sure it is not in the complexion, for those that do but think themselvs fair, are presently inclined to this multiplicity of loves, which being but fair in conceit are false in deed: and so perchance when they are born to this beauty, or have made it, or have dream'd it, they easily believe all addresses and applications of every man, out of a sense of their own worthi­ness to be directed to them, which others less worthy in their own thoughts apprehend not, or dis­credit. But I think the true rea­son is, that being like gold in many properties (as that all snatch at them, but the worst possess them, [Page 49] that they care not how deep we dig for them, and that by the Law of nature, Occupandi conce­ditur) they would be like also in this, that as Gold to make it self of use admits allay, so they, that they may be tractable, mutable, and currant, have to their allay Falshood.

VIII. Why Venus-star only doth cast a shadow?

IS it because it is nearer the earth? But they whose profes­sion it is to see that nothing be done in heaven without their consent (as Re—says in him­self of Astrologers) have bid Mer­cury to be nearer. Is it because the works of Venus want shadowing, covering, and disguising? But those of Mercury need it more; for Elo­quence, his occupation, is all sha­dow and colours; let our life be a sea, and then our reason and even [Page 50] ons are winde enough to carry us whether we should go, but Elo­quence is a storm and tempest that miscarries: and who doubts that Eloquence which must per­swade people to take a yoke of soveraignty (and then beg and make Laws to tye them faster, and then give money to the in­vention, repair and strengthen it) needs more shadows and colou­ring, then to perswade any man or woman to that which is natu­ral. And Venus markets are so natural, that when we solicite the best way (which is by marri­age) our perswasions work not so much to draw a woman to us, as against her nature to draw her from all other be­sides. And so when we go a­gainst nature, and from Venus­work (for marriage is chastitie) we need shadowes and colours, but not else. In Seneca's time it was a course, an un- Roman and a contemptible thing even in a Matron, not to have had a Love [Page 51] beside her husband, which though the Law required not at their hands, yet they did it zea­lously out of the Councel of Custom and fashion, which was venery of supererrogation:

Et te spectator plusquam de­lectat Adulter,

saith Martial: And Horace, be­cause many lights would not shew him enough, created many Ima­ges of the same Object by wain­scoting his chamber with looking­glasses: so that Venus flies not light, so much as Mercury, who creeping into our understanding, our darkness would be defeated, if he were perceived. Then ei­ther this shadow confesseth that same dark Melancholy Repen­tance which accompanies; or that so violent fires, needs some shadowy refreshing and inter­mission: Or else light signifying both day and youth, and shadow both night and age, she pronoun­ceth by this that she professeth both all persons and times.

IX. Why is Venus-star multinominous, called both Hesperus and Vesper.

THe Moon hath as many names, but not as she is a star, but as she hath divers go­vernments; but Venus is multi­nominous to give example to her prostitute disciples, who so often, either to renew or refresh them­selves towards lovers, or to disguise themselves from Magi­strates, are to take new names. It may be she takes new names af­ter her many functions, for as she is supream Monarch of all Suns at large (which is lust) so is she joyned in Commission with all Mythologicks, with Iuno, Diana, and all others for marriage. It may be because of the divers names to her self, for her affecti­ons have more names than any vice: scilicet, Pollution, Fornica­tion, Adultery, Lay. Incest, Church-Incest, Rape, Sodomy, Mastupra­tion, [Page 53] Masturbation, and a thou­sand others. Perchance her di­vers names shewed her applia­bleness to divers men, for Nep­tune distilled and wet her in love, the Sun warms and melts her, Mercury perswaded and swore her, Iupiters authority secured, and Vulcan hammer'd her. As Hesperus she presents you with her bonum utile, because it is whol­somest in the morning: As Vesper with her bonum delectabile, because it is pleasantest in the evening. And because industrious men rise and endure with the Sun in their civil businesses, this Star cals them up a little before, and remem­bers them again a little after for her business; for certainly,

Venit Hesperus, ite capell [...]e: was spoken to Lovers in the per­sons of Goats.

X. Why are new Officers least oppres­sing?

Must the old Proverb, that Old dogs bite sorest, be true in all kinde of dogs? Me thinks the fresh memory they have of the money they parted with for the place, should hasten them for the re-imbursing: And perchance they do but seem ea­sier to their suiters; who (as all other Patients) do account all change of pain, easie. But if it be so, it is either because the so­dain sense and contentment of the honor of the place, retards and remits the rage of their profits, and so having stayed their sto­macks, they can forbear the se­cond course a while: Or having overcome the steepest part of the hill, and clambered above Com­petitions and Oppositions they dare loiter, and take breath: Per­chance being come from places, [Page 55] where they tasted no gain, a lit­tle seems much to them at first, for it is long before a Christian con­science overtakes, or straies into an Officers heart. It may be that out of the general disease of all men not to love the memory of a predecessor, they seek to disgrace them by such easiness, and make good first impressions, that so ha­ving drawn much water to their Mill, they may afterwards grind at ease: For if from the rules of good horfemanship, they thought it wholsome to jet out in a mode­rate pace, they should also take up towards their journeys end, not mend their pace continually, and gallop to their Inns-dore, the grave; except perchance their con­science at that time so touch them that they think it an injury & da­mage both to him that must sell, and to him that must buy the Of­fice after their death, and a kind of dilapidation if they by conti­nuing honest should discredit the place, and bring it to a lower rent, or under-value.

XI. Why doth the Poxe soe much affect to undermine the Nose?

PAracelsus perchance saith true, That every Disease hath his Exaltation in some part cer­taine. But why this in the Nose? Is there so much mercy in this di­sease, that it provides that one should not smell his own stinck? Or hath it but the common for­tune, that being begot and bred in obscurest and secretest places, because therefore his serpentine crawling and insinuation should not be suspected, nor seen, he comes soonest into great place, and is more able to destroy the worthiest member, then a Di­sease better born? Perchance as mice defeat Elephants by knaw­ing their Proboscis, which is their Nose, this wretched Indian Vermine practiseth to doe the same upon us. Or as the ancient furious Custome and Connivency of some Lawes, that one might cut off their Nose whome he depre­hended [Page 57] in Adulterie, was but a Tipe of this; And that now more charitable lawes having taken a­way all Revenge from particular hands, this common Magistrate and Executioner is come to doe the same Office invisibly? Or by withdrawing this conspicu­ous part, the Nose, it warnes us from all adventuring upon that Coast; for it is as good a marke to take in a flag as to hang one out. Possibly heate, which is more potent and active then cold, thought her selfe injured, and the Harmony of the world out of tune, when cold was able to shew the high-way to Noses in Musco­via, except she found the meanes to doe the same in other Coun­tries. Or because by the consent of all, there is an Analogy, Proporti­on and affection between the Nose and that part where this disease is first contracted, and therefore He­liogabalus chose not his Minions in the Bath but by the Nose; And Albertus had a knavish meaning when he preferd great Noses; [Page 58] And the licentious Poet was Na­so Poeta. I think this reason is nearest truth, That the Nose is most compassionate with this part: Except this be nearer, that it is reasonable that this Disease in particular should affect the most eminent and perspicuous part, which in general doth af­fect to take hold of the most e­minent and conspicuous men.

XII. Why die none for Love now?

BEcause women are become ea­syer. Or because these la­ter times have provided mankind of more new means for the de­stroying of themselves and one another, Pox, Gunpowder, Young marriages, and Controversies in Religion. Or is there in true Hi­story no Precedent or Example of it? Or perchance some die so, but are not therefore worthy the remembring or speaking of?

XIII. Why do Women delight much in Feathers?

THey think that Feathers imi­tate wings, and so shew their restlessness and instability. As they are in matter, so they would be in name, like Embroiderers, Painters, and such Artificers of curious vanities, which the vul­gar call Pluminaries. Or else they have feathers upon the same reason, which moves them to love the unworthiest men, which is, that they may be thereby ex­cusable in their inconstancy and often changing.

XIV. Why doth not Gold soyl the fingers?

DOth it direct all the venom to the heart? Or is it because bribing should not be discover­ed? Or because that should pay purely, for which pure things are given, as Love, Honor, Iustice [Page 60] and Heaven? Or doth it seldom come into innocent hands, but in­to such as for former foulness you cannot discern this?

XV. Why do great men of all dependants, chuse to preserve their little Pimps?

IT is not hecause they are got nearest their secrets, for they whom they bring come nearer. Nor because commonly they and their bawds have lain in one belly, for then they should love their brothers aswel. Nor because they are witnesses of their weakness, for they are weak ones. Either it is because they have a double hold and obligation upon their masters for providing them surgery and remedy after, aswel as pleasure be­fore, and bringing them always such stuff, as they shal always need their service? Or because they may be received and enter­tained every where, and Lords fling off none but such as they [Page 61] may destroy by it. Or perchance we deceive our selves, and every Lord having many, and, of neces­sity, some rising, we mark only these.

XVI. why are Courtiers sooner Atheists then men of other conditions?

IS it because as Physitians con­templating Nature, and finding many abstruse things subject to the search of Reason, thinks ther­fore that all is so; so they (seeing mens destinies, mad at Court, neck out and in joynt there, War, Peace, Life and Death derived from thence) climb no higher? Or doth a familiarity with greatness, and daily conversation and ac­quaintance with it breed a con­tempt of all greatness? Or because that they see that opinion or need of one another, and fear makes the degrees of servants, Lords and Kings, do they think that God likewise for such [Page 62] Reason hath been mans Creator? Perchance it is because they see Vice prosper best there, and, bur­thened with sinne, doe they not, for their ease, endeavour to put off the feare and Knowledge of God, as facinorous men deny Magistracy? Or are the most A­theists in that place, because it is the foole that said in his heart, There is no God.

XVII. Why are statesmen most incre­dulous?

ARe they all wise enough to follow their excellent Pat­tern Tiberius, who brought the senate to be diligent and industri­ons to believe him, were it never so opposite or diametricall, that it destroyed their very ends to be believed, as Asinius Gallus had almost deceived this man by be­lieving him, and the Major and Aldermen of London in Richard the Third? Or are businesses (a­bout [Page 63] which these men are con­versant) so conjecturall, so sub­ject to unsuspected interventions that they are therefore forc'd to speake oraculously, whisperingly, generally, and therefore escap­ingly, in the language of Alma­nack-makers for weather? Or are those (as they call them) Arcana imperii, as by whom the Prince provokes his lust, and by whom he vents it, of what Cloath his socks are, and such, so deep, and so irreveald, as any error in them is inexcusable? If these were the reasons, they would not only serve for state-business. But why will they not tell true, what a Clock it is, and what weather, but abstain from truth of it, if it conduce not to their ends, as Witches which will not name Je­sus, though it be in a curse? ei­there they know little out of their own Elements, or a Custom in one matter begetts an habite in all. Or the lower sort imitate Lords, they their Princes, these their Prince. Or else they be­lieve [Page 64] one another, and so never hear truth. Or they abstain from the little Channel of truth, least, at last, they should finde the fountain it self, God.

The Character of a Scot at the first sight.

AT his first ap­pearing in the Charterhouse, an Olive colou­red Velvet suit owned him, which since became mous-colour, A pair of unskour'd stockings­gules, One indifferent shooe, his band of Edenburgh, and cuffs of London, both strangers to his shirt, a white feather in a hat that had bin sod, one onely cloak for the rain, which yet he made serve him for all weathers: A Barren­half-acre of Face, amidst where­of an eminent Nose advanced [Page 66] himself, like the new Mount at Wansted, over-looking his Beard, and all the wilde Countrey there­abouts; He was tended enough, but not well; for they were cer­tain dumb creeping Followers, yet they made way for their Ma­ster, the Laird.—At the first pre­sentment his Breeches were his Sumpter, and his Packets, Trunks, Cloak-bags, Portmanteau's and all; He then grew a Knight­wright, and there is extant of his ware at 100l. 150l. and 200l. price. Immediately after this, he shifteth his suit, so did his Whore, and to a Bear-baiting they went, whither I followed them not, but Tom. Thorney did.

The True Chara­cter of a Dunce.

HE hath a Soule drownd in a lump of Flesh, or is a piece of Earth that Prometheus put not half his proportion of Fire into, a thing that hath neither edge of desire, nor feeling of affection in it, The most dangerous creature for confirming an Atheist, who would straight swear, his soul were nothing but the bare tem­perature of his body: He sleeps as he goes, and his thoughts sel­dom reach an inch further then his eyes; The most part of the faculties of his soul lye Fallow, or are like the restive Jades that no spur can drive forwards to­wards [Page 86] the pursuite of any worthy design; one of the most unprofita­ble of all Gods creatures, being as he is, a thing put clean besides his right use, made fitt for the cart & the flail, and by mischance Entan­gled amongst books and papers, a man cannot tel possible what he is now good for, save to move up and down and fill room, or to serv as Animatum Instrumentum for others to work withal in base Im­ployments, or to be a foyl for bet­ter witts, or to serve (as They say monsters do) to set out the variety of nature, and Ornament of the Universe, He is meer nothing of himself, neither eates, nor drinkes, nor goes, nor spits but by imita­tion, for al which, he hath set forms & fashions, which he never varies, but sticks to, with the like plod­ding constancy that a milhors fol­lows his trace, both the muses and the graces are his hard Mistrisses, though he daily Invocate them, though he sacrifize Hecatombs, they stil look a squint, you shall note him oft (besides his dull eye [Page 69] and louting head, and a certain clammie benum'd pace) by a fair displai'd beard, a Nightcap and a gown, whose very wrincles pro­claim him the true genius of for­mality, but of al others, his discours and compositions best speak him, both of them are much of one stuf & fashion, he speaks just what his books or last company said unto him without varying one whit & very seldom understands himself, you may know by his discourse where he was last, for what he read or heard yesterday he now dis­chargeth his memory or notebook of, not his understanding, for it ne­ver came there; what he hath he flings abroad at al adventurs with­out accomodating it to time, place persons or occasions, he commonly loseth himself in his tale, and flut­ters up and down windles without recovery, and whatsoever next pre­sents it self, his heavie conceit sei­zeth upon and goeth along with, however Heterogeneal to his mat­ter in hand, his jests are either old flead proverbs, or lean-starv'd- [Page 70] Apophthegm's, or poor verball quips outworn by Servingmen, Tapsters and Milkmaids, even laid aside by Bassaders, He as­sents to all men that bring any shadow of reason, and you may make him when he speaks most Dogmatically, even with one breath, to averr pure contra­dictions, His Compositions differ only terminorum positione from Dreams, Nothing but rude heaps of Immaterial-inchoherent dros­sie-rubbish-stuffe, promiscuous­ly thrust up together, enough to Infuse dullness and Barrenness of Conceit into him that is so Prodigall of his eares as to give the hearing, enough to make a mans memory Ake with suffering such dirtie stuffe cast into it, as unwellcome to any true conceit, as Sluttish Morsells or Wallo­wish Potions to a Nice-Stomack which whiles he empties himselfe of, it sticks in his Teeth nor can he be Delivered without Sweate and Sighes, and Humms, and Coughs enough to shake his [Page 71] Grandams teeth out of her head; Heel spitt, and scratch, and yawn, and stamp, and turn like sick men from one elbow to another, and Deserve as much pitty during this torture as men in Fits of Ter­tian Feavors or selfe lashing Peni­tentiaries; in a word, Rip him quite asunder, and examin every shred of him, you shall finde him to be just nothing, but the sub­ject of Nothing, the object of contempt, yet such as he is you must take him, for there is no hope he should ever become bet­ter.

An Essay of Valour.

I Am of opinion that nothing is so potent either to procure or merit Love, as Va­lour, and I am glad I am so, for thereby I shall do my self much ease, because Valour never needs much wit to maintain it: To speak of it in it self, It is a quality which he that hath, shall have least need of, so the best League between Princes is a mutual fear of each other, it teacheth a man to value his reputation as his life, and chiefly to hold the Lye un­sufferable, though being alone, he finds no hurt it doth him, It leaves it self to others censures, for he that brags of his own va­lour, disswades others from be­lieving [Page 73] it, It feareth a word no more then an Ague, It always makes good the Owner, for though he be generally held a fool, he shall seldom hear so much by word of mouth, and that en­largeth him more than any spe­ctacles, for it maketh a little fel­low be called a tall man, it yeilds the wall to none but a woman, whose weakness is her preroga­tive, or a man seconded with a woman as an usher, which al­ways goes before his betters, It makes a man become the witness of his own words, and stand to whatever he hath said, and think­eth it a reproach to commit his reviling unto the Law, it furnish­eth youth with action, and age with discourse, and both by fu­tures, for a man must ever boast himself in the present tense, and to come nearer home, nothing drawes a woman like to it; for Valour towards men, is an Em­blem of an ability towards wo­men, a good quality signifies a better. Nothing is more behoof­full [Page 74] for that Sex; for from it they receive protection, and we free from the danger of it: No­thing makes a shorter cut for ob­taining, for a man of Arms is al­ways void of Ceremony, which is the wall that stands between Pyramus and Thisbe, that is, Man and Woman, for there is no pride in women but that which re­bounds from our own basenesse (as Cowards grow Valiant upon those that are more Cowards) so that only by our pale asking, we teach them to deny, and by our shamefac'dness, we put them in minde to be modest, whereas indeed it is cunning Rhetorick to perswade the hearers that they are that already which he would have them to be; This kinde of bashfulness is far from men of Valour, and especially from soul­diers, for such are ever men (without doubt) forward and confident, losing no time least they should lose oportunity, which is the best Factor for a Lo­ver, and because they know wo­men [Page 75] are given to dissemble, they will never believe them when they deny, Whilome before this age of wit, and wearing black, were broke in upon us, there was no way known to win a Lady but by Tylting, Turnying, and riding through Forrests, in which time these slender striplings with little legs were held but of strength e­nough to marry their widows, and even in our days there can be given no reason of the Inunda­tion of Servingmen upon their Mistresses, but (only) that usu­ally they carry their Masters Weapons, and his Valour; To be accounted handsome, just, learned, or well favoured, all this carries no danger with it, but it is to be admitted to the Ti­tle of Valiant Acts, at least the adventuring of his mortality, and al women take delight to hold him safe in their arms who hath 'scapt thither through many dangers: To speak at once, Man hath a priviledge in Valour; In clothes and good faces we but imitate [Page 76] women, and many of that Sex will not think much (as far as an answer goes) to dissemble wit too. So then these neat youths, these women in mens apparel are too near a woman to be beloved of her, They be both of a Trade, but be grim of aspect, and such a one a Glass dares take, and she will desire him for neatness and varie­tie; A skar in a mans face is the same that a mole in a womans; a Jewel set in white to make it seem more white, for a skar in a man is a mark of honour and no blemish, for 'tis a skar and a ble­mish too in a Souldier to be with out one: Now as for al things else which are to procure Love, as a good face, wit, good clothes, or a good body, each of them I con­fess may work somewhat for want of a better, That is, if Valour be not their Rivall; A good face a­vails nothing if it be in a coward that is bashfull, the utmost of it is to be kiss'd, which rather en­creaseth then quencheth appetite; He that sends her gifts sends her [Page 77] world also, that he is a man of small gifts otherwise, for wooing by signes and tokens implies the Author dumb; and if Ovid who writ the Law of Love, were alive (as he is extant) would allow it as good a diversity, that gifts should be sent as gratuities, not as bribes; Wit getteth rather promise then Love, Wit is not to be seen, and no woman takes advice of any in her loving, but of her own eyes, and her wai­ting womans; Nay which is worse, Wit is not to be felt, and so no good fellow; Wit apply'd to a woman makes her dissolve (or disclose) her simpering, and discover her teeth with laughter, and this is surely a purge for love; for the beginning of love is a kind of foolish melancholy, as for the man that makes his Taylor his Bawd, and hopes to inveagle his Love with such a coloured suit, surely the same deeply hazards the loss of her favour upon every change of his clothes; So like­wise for the other, that Courts [Page 78] her silently with a good body, let me certifie him that his clothes depend upon the comelynesse of the body, and so both upon opi­nion; she that hath been sedu­ced by Apparel, let me give her to wit, that men always put off their clothes before they go to bed: and let her that hath been ena­mour'd of her servants body, un­derstand, that if she saw him in a skin of cloth, that is, in a suit made to the pattern of his body, she would see slender cause to love him ever after; there are no clothes sit so well in a womans eye, as a suit of Steel, though not of the fashion, and no man so soon sur­priseth a womans affections, as he that is the subject of all whisper­ings, and hath always twenty stories of his own deeds depen­ding upon him; Mistake me not, I understand not by valour one that never fights but when he is back'd with drink or anger, or hiss'd on with beholders, nor one that is desperate, nor one that takes away a Servingmans wea­pons [Page 79] when perchance it cost him his quarters wages, nor yet one that wears a privy Coat of de­fence and therein is confident, for then such as made Bucklers, would be accounted the Cata­lines of this Commonwealth—I intend one of an even Resolu­tion grounded upon reason, which is always even, having his power restrained by the Law of not doing wrong. But now I remember I am for Valour and therefore I must be a man of few words.

PARADOX. XII. Place this after Pa­radox XI. fol. 37. That Virginity is a Vertue.

I Call not that Virginity a ver­tue, which resideth onely in the Bodies integrity; much lesse if it be with a purpose of perpe­tuall keeping it: for then it is a most inhumane vice—But I call that Virginity a vertue which is willing and desirous to yeeld it selfe upon honest and lawfull terms, when just reason requi­reth; and untill then, is kept with a modest chastity of Body and Mind. Some perchance will say that Virginity is in us by Na­ture, and therefore no vertue. True, as it is in us by Nature, it is neither a Vertue nor Vice, and is onely in the body: (as in In­fants, Children, and such as are incapable of parting from it) But that Virginity which is in Man or or Woman of perfect age, is not in them by Nature: Nature is the greatest enemy to it, and [Page 82] with most subtile allurements seeks the over-throw of it, con­tinually beating against it with her Engines, and giving such forcible assaults to it, that it is a strong and more then ordinary vertue to hold out till marriage. Ethick Philosophy saith, That no Vertue is corrupted, or is taken a­way by that which is good: Here­upon some may say, that Virginity is therfore no vertue, being taken away by marriage. Virginity is no otherwise taken away by mar­riage, then is the light of the starres by a greater light (the light of the Sun:) or as a lesse Title is taken away by a greater: (an Esquire by being created an Earle) yet Virginity is a vertue, and hath her Throne in the middle: The extreams are, in Excesse: to violate it before mar­riage; in defect, not to marry. In ripe years as soon as reason perswades and opportunity ad­mits, These extreams are equal­ly removed from the mean: The excesse-proceeds from Lust, the [Page 83] defect from Peevishnesse, Pride and Stupidity. There is an old Proverb, That, they that dy maids, must lead Apes in Hell. An Ape is a ridiculous and an unprofita­ble Beast, whose flesh is not good for meat, nor its back for bur­den, nor is it commodious to keep an house: and perchance for the unprofitablenesse of this Beast did this proverb come up: For surely nothing is more un­profitable in the Commonwealth of Nature, then they that dy old maids, because they refuse to be used to that end for which they were only made. The Ape brin­geth forth her young, for the most part by twins; that which she loves best, she killeth by pres­sing it too hard: so foolish maids soothing themselves with a false conceit of vertue, in fond obsti­nacie, live and die maids; and so not onely kill in themselves the vertue of Virginity, and of a Ver­tue make it a Vice, but they also accuse their parents in condem­ning marriage. If this applicati­on [Page 84] hold not touch, yet there may be an excellent one gathered from an Apes tender love to Co­nies in keeping them from the Weasel and Ferret. From this si­militude of an Ape & an old Maid did the foresaid proverb first a­rise. But alas, there are some old Maids that are Virgins much a­gainst their wills, and fain would change their Virgin-life for a Married: such if they never have had any offer of fit Hus­bands, are in some sort excusa­ble, and their willingnesse, their desire to marry, and their for­bearance from all dishonest, and unlawfull copulation, may be a kind of inclination to vertue, al­though not Vertue it selfe. This Vertue of Virginity (though it be small and fruitlesse) it is an ex­traordinary, and no common Vertue. All other Vertues lodge in the Will (it is the Will that makes them vertues.) But it is the unwillingnesse to keep it, the desire to forsake it, that makes this a vertue. As in the naturall [Page 85] generation and formation made of the seed in the womb of a wo­man, the body is joynted and or­ganized about the 28 day, and so it begins to be no more an Em­brion, but capable as a matter prepared to its form to receive the soule, which faileth not to in­sinuate and innest it selfe into the body about the fortieth day; a­bout the third month it hath mo­tion and sense: Even so Virginity is an Embrion, an unfashioned lump, till it attain to a certain time, which is about twelve years of age in women, fourteen in men, and then it beginneth to have the soule of Love infused in­to it, and to become a vertue: There is also a certain limited time when it ceaseth to be a ver­tue, which in men is about four­ty, in women about thirty years of age: yea, the losse of so much time makes their Virginity a Vice, were not their endeavour wholly bent, and their desires altogether fixt upon marriage: In Harvest time do we not account it a great [Page 86] vice of sloath and negligence in a Husband-man, to overslip a week or ten dayes after his fruits are fully ripe; May we not much more account it a more heynous vice, for a Virgin to let her Fruit (in potentia) consume and rot to nothing, and to let the vertue of her Virginity degenerate into Vice, (for Virginity ever kept is ever lost.) Avarice is the greatest deadly sin next Pride: it takes more pleasure in hoording Trea­sure then in making use of it, and will neither let the possessor nor others take benefit by it during the Misers life; yet it remains intire, and when the Miser dies most come to som body. Virgini­ty ever kept, is a vice far wors then Avarice, it will neither let the possessor nor others take benefit by it, nor can it be bequeathed to any: with long keeping it decayes and withers, and becomes cor­rupt and nothing worth. Thus seeing that Virginity becomes a vice in defect, by exceeding a li­mited time; I counsell all female [Page 87] Virgins to make choyce of some Paracelsian for their Physitian, to prevent the death of that Vertue: The Paracelsians (curing like by like) say, That if the lives of living Creatures could be taken down, they would make us immortall. By this Rule, female Virgins by a discreet marriage should swallow down into their Virginity another Virginity, and devour such a life & spirit into their womb, that it might make them, as it were, im­mortall here on earth, besides their perfect immortality in hea­ven: And that Vertue which o­therwise would putrifie and cor­rupt, shall then be compleat; and shall be recorded in Heaven, and enrolled here on Earth; and the name of Virgin shal be exchanged for a farre more honorable name, A Wife.

A sheaf of Miscellany EPIGRAMS.

1. Upon one who for his wives fault took it ill to be called Cuckold.

RUde scoffer! why dost cal me Cuckold? No
Loose fires of Love did in my bosome grow.
No wedlock knot by me unti'd hath bin;
Nor am I guilty of anothers sin.
Thy wife being not her own with thy limbs she,
Fool'd Cuckold, doth commit Adulterie.
Being, then, one flesh, and thou her Head, tis fit
The Horus, in Justice, on thy Brow should fit.

2. Upon One Roger a Rich Niggard, familiarly unac­quainted with the Author.

BOttomless pit of gold! slave to thy Chest!
Poor in the midst of Riches not possest!
Self Tantalus! To thine own wealth a Thief!
Affording scarce thy half-starv [...]d Womb relief.
Cheating thy limbs with cloths transparent worn;
Plague to thy self! To all men else a scorn!
Who madly dost mens silver shapes adore;
And thence getst Cheeks pale as the silver Ore.
Feare not I'le beg; my mind's above thy pelf;
Good Thrifty Hodge, give something to thy self.

3. Upon a Whore barren and not barren.

THy oft repeated is no Childless sin;
When thou art lain with stil thy purs lies in.

4. On the same.

Thy dowbak'd Lusts, and Tail which vainly wags,
Are recompenc'd by thy still teeming bags.

5. On an old Bawd.

Loe, I an old Whore have to young resign'd;
Yet in my old flesh dwels a young whores mind.

6. On the same.

Though ramage grown, Th'art still for carting fit;
Thy will with others bodies doth commit.

7. On the same.

She, whose scarce yet quencht lust to freeze be­gins,
Liv'd by her own once, now by others sins.

8. On a Bawdy-house.

Here Mal, providing for Threescore,
Sets up the Trade she learn'd before,
VVith watchings many, sweatings more.

9. Upon an old rich scolding Woman who being married to a poor young man upbraided him daily with the smallness of his Fortune. The Husbands complaint.

VVhat wife like mine hath any Husband known?
By day she is all Noyse, by night all stone.

10. Another.

Shut thy purse-mouth, Old Trot, And let's appeal;
VVho'd without sauce taste so deform'd a Meal?

11. On her unpleasing Kisses.

They can't be Kisses call'd but toothless Nips,
VVhich, Beldam, come from thy faint trembling lips.

12. Another.

When thy dry grissels with my soft lips close,
I give thee kisses, thou return'st me blows.

13. Another.

Thy senses faile thee, And pray God they may,
To me thy Cofers will their loss defray.

14. On the same old Wife.

Thou art no Woman, nor no womans part,
Infant, or Girl; say, who the Devil art.

15. To the same.

Be not seen, Thou, whom I distracted love,
Least my prodigious dotage scandal prove.
For being a meer Image, 'twil be spread,
That I no wife did, but an Idol wed.

16. Upon one who saw the Picture of his scolding wife in a Painters shop. Dialog.

Painter, whose face is that I see?
Thy wives. Alas! I fear tis she.
Just so her scolding eyes do burn;
And Brow doth into wrincles turn.
I tremble at her sharp nose; so
Her frighting chin doth pointed grow.
All parts are so drawn to the life,
Methinks the picture, like my wise,
Begins to brawl, and kindle strife.

17. Another.

Say Painter, who's this whom thy hand hath made,
Thy wife who dost enquire, at least her shade.
'Tis so; yet Painter, I had cause to doubt,
Seeing her Tongue, her most known part left out.

18. Another.

Who's this, Painter? Thy wife, O
That she were in earnest so.

19. Another.

Venus, when Pygmalion praid,
Chang'd a Statue to a Maid;
Whose cold Marble drunk warm bloud.
If at my request she would
My wife into Marble turn,
I would white Doves to her burn.

20. Upon a Pipe of Tobacco mis-taken by the Author for the Tooth-ach.

Outlandish Weed! whilst I thy vertues tell,
Assist me Bedlam, Muses come from Hell.

21. Another.

An Hearb thou art, but useless; for made fire,
From hot mouths puft, thou dost in fumes expire.

22. Another.

A cloud Ixion for a Goddess kist;
So thou thy Lovers cosen'st with a mist.

23. To the Tobacco-seller.

Merchant of Smoke, when next thou mak'st a feast
Invite some starv'd Chamelion to be guest.

24. Another.

Lothings, stincks, thirst, rhumes, aches, and catarrh,
Base weed, thy vertues, that's, thy poysons are.

25. Another.

I love thee not, nor thou me having tri'd
How thy scorcht Takers are but Takers fry'd.

26. Another.

Niggards till dead are Niggards; so vile weed,
Thy bounty from thy ashes doth proceed.

27. Upon a Town built in the place where a wood grew; From whence 'tis called Dukes-Wood, or the Burse

A Wood into fair buildings chang'd we see;
And th' Oke stands City where 'twas fel'd a tree.

28. Another.

Falne Okes the Axe doth into Timber hew;
And a Town stands where Trees demolisht grew.

29. Another.

From a Woods ruines did these Buildings rise,
And it stood Grove where now it Rafters lies.

30. Another.

This naked Beam which beares up Roofes from ground,
Was once with branches & fair green top, crown'd.

31. Another.

Wood yeelds to stone, boughs are made joyces here,
And where a Cops stood now fair streets appeare.

32. Upon a navigable River cut through a Town built out of a Wood.

Horsmen turn sailers, waves roll where grew woods
And against Nature Art make ways through floods.

33. Another.

The drownd land here a Crystall garment wears,
And her own trees, made Barges, once more bears.

34. Another.

The tree her womb-bred on the back now floats
Of this o're-flown field, now in wandring Boats.

35. Another.

The ground whose head was once enricht with Okes,
Her Temples now steept in sea-water sokes.

36. Another.

The place where once grew Ash for warlike spears
The Maze makes drunk now with his brinish tears

37. Upon the Medows over-flown there.

The Medows which their perfum'd locks did boast
Ore-flown with waters have their perfumes lost.

38. Another.

The hungry Cow here lately did mistake;
And seeking grasse was cosen'd with a lake.

39. Another.

Here Fishes dwell, till now not us'd to fields;
And pasture ground here sportful Gudgeons yeelds.

40. Another.

Mere pleasant fields drownd by the wandring Maze,
See scaly flocks swim where once sheep did graze.

41. Another.

Dukes-wood where once thick bushes did appear,
Like a new Iland now stands in a meer.

42. Upon a piece of ground ore-flown, where once a Leaguer quartered.

Here where Tents stood, Mars now to Neptune yeelds,
And Sea-nymphs tread moist dances ore the fields.

43. Another.

Fishes now quarter where pavilions stood;
And the smooth Tench dies the sharp hook with blood.

44. Another.

Finn'd Soldiers here in Belgick Quarters jar;
And the fierce Pike in troubled streams makes war.

45. Another.

Dutchman! This Grove once hatcht the Warlick Speer,
Which angry Perches on their backs now wear.

46. Another.

Gudgeons, where soldiers lay, ly trencht in Sand,
Fearing the bloudie Colours of the Land.

47. A Dutch Captain of Foot, having with his Soldiers entred a Breach, and there a while fought valiantly with a Two-handed Sword; In the very point of Victory, being mortally wounded, spake thus:

I fighting die; How much more blest then they,
Whom a blind shot doth, standing idle, slay.

48. Another.

We've conquer'd Boys; My wounds I highly rate,
When with such Honor they requite my fate.

49. Another.

Thus conquering kild, my ashes triumphs gain,
And make me wish thus to be often slain.

50. Another.

I die well paid, whilst my expiring breath,
Smiles ore the Tombs of foes made kin by death.

51. Another.

Me the queld Spaniard to the next world sent
Not unreveng'd; his Troops before me went.

52. His Will.

Let Heaven my soul, the foe my life, the grave
My corps, my fame let my sav'd Countrey have.

53. To the Prince of Aurange, on his famous Victory o­ver the Spaniards in Dukes-Wood.

Now Golden Fruit, Prince, hang on Dukes-wood Boughes;
Since it with Lawrell crown'd thy conquering Browes.

54. Another.

Holland and Aurange may their Conquest boast
Of the quell'd Spaniard, but brave Aurange most.

55. Another.

Spaniard, no more call Golden Fleeces thine,
Since the bright name of Aurange doth more shine.

56. A Panegyrick on the Hollanders being Lords of the Sea. Occasioned by the Authors being in their Army at Dukes-wood.

Heathen! No more thy Neptune boast; Here see
A Neptune more Lord of the sea then Hee;
Whom fruitfull Holland feeds, Holland Sea-bred;
And neighbouring Zealand folds in watry bed.
Neptune's a Dutch God; Here his wandrings stay;
And his calm'd ragings con [...]ring chains obey.
His standing Flood here to the Bridle yeilds,
And his fierce Torrent plaies through unknown fields.
Here the swoln sea views the inferiour ground,
And yet no green bush, even to wonder, drownd;
Whilst Billows, like huge mountains, do hang o're
The pleasing Vales which creep along the shore.
Banks hold waves captive, and through sluces free,
And Glebes from watry prisons snatcht we see.
Glebes, which were long of sun, and skie bereav'd,
Now the Dutch Plowman sees wel cornd & sheav'd.
Curbing the Ocean with stout Mounds and Bars,
And with the salt Gods of it waging VVars.
Making Art fetch from the deep's rav'nous womb
Pastures, lost towns, and houses; In which swomm
Shell'd Citizens,' mongst pillars drencht in brine.
Should Achelous here joyn strengths with thine,
And wrestle for the conquest, Holland, here
Each Drayner would a Hercules appear;
And cosening Art with Art, in these dry'd Plains,
Would bind the oft shape-changing God in chains.
The oft tam'd Maze here the Dutch yoke endures,
And his fear'd Master to the VValls secures
Of the sam'd Burse now, Dutchman, fear no harms,
VVhen against neighbouring Cities seas take arms.
[Page 99] The Oceans thine, with thee his waves have sworn
The league which Philip broke. By him th'art born
To the parcht Indians, and those lands of gold
Which the proud Tyrant doth in bondage hold:
Whose wealth transported from the plunder'd Mine
His Plate-Fleet calls his, But the Sea makes thine.
Each Duch-man is Columbus; Worlds unknown
To the discovering Spaniard, are his grown:
Nor can I here conceal, nor yet say well,
Where Heynskirch's praise, or Oliver's excell,
Or Heyn's more bold adventure; whose bright Ore
Prest the Sea's back with wealth snatch from the shore
For whilst I do Dutch voyages rehearse,
And sail with thy victorious Ships in verse,
I, Holland in thy swimming Camp am roll'd
Into all Seas, and there both Poles behold.
The Africk sands to thee large tribute send,
And Asia glories to be stil'd thy friend;
America's rich Mines grow in thy lands,
And at thy conquests Europe wondring stands.

57. To Sleep, stealling upon him as he stood upon the Guard in the corner of a running Trench, at the siege of Duke's-Wood.

WHy dost besiege mine eyes, untimely Sleep?
And o'er my limbs with thy dull setters creep?
Hence, hence, depart; To roofs well tyll'd repaire;
To beds of down, and mindes unvext with care.
Shut Virgins eyes, whilst Love tir'd with delay,
Unstrings his Bow, and lets his Arrows play.
Rock weary Ploughmen, and new strength beget
In those whose spirits were breath'd forth in sweat;
To men opprest with grief, who court thy charms.
And men unbusied lend thy Opium arms.
[Page 100] Be kinde to Men in bedlam, close the eyes
Of him who in a raging feaver lyes.
But let me watch; not as a spy, to mark,
With whom my wench steals meetings in the dark.
Here guards are kept, & from yond watchful towres,
The crasty Foe vyes broken: sleeps with ours;
Seeking by slye plots, what pitcht-fields deny;
Hence, hence, then Morpheus, from our quarters fly.
Our very standing still here business finde;
Duty imploys our bodies, cares our minde.
Duty which may the next hour double strike;
Whilst each man here stands grasping of a pike;
Waitings stoln onsets with our weary spears,
Examining even whispers with our ears.
Doubts of the coming Foe, with hopes are mixt,
And all eyes are one his approaches fi [...]t.
All passengers we summon with our eyes,
Ask who they are, and question them or spies.
If well-known friends, they pass; if not, they stay
Till we their doubtful answers strictly weigh.
Wil not this serve, Sleep? wil not al this fright thee?
See, then, a night turn'd into day to light thee.
See a bright shine from coal black powder spring,
And light from darkness once more issuing.
See flames like those belcht forth from Aetna's Maw,
Such flames as no Fleece-stealing Iason saw.
Hecuba's child of fire in dreams begot,
Was not like that from murdring Canons shot.
If yet thou'lt stay, hear thunders mixt with flame,
Such as neer yet from Cyclops Anvil came.
Hark how the loud gun shakes the trembling sky,
whilst threatning Bals in showres of murther fly.
Sicilian Bull did not so loudly roar;
Nor was the sword more dreadful which hung o're
Damocles neck from guilt roof. Then, away,
And to such dangers, Sleep, don't me betray.

58. To his Fellow Sentinels.

ANd you, Comrades, with me this night endure;
Let our cause make us bold, Courage secure.
Lets with stout mindes our present dangers meet;
And let our stations from their toyls grow sweet.
Stations where souldiers are made brothers. Night [...]
In wine, and Revels spent make winged flights;
A coy whore is with patience watcht for, yet
No honor's gain'd; glory with dangers met
Here doth attend us; toyls are paid with praise.
Let's weave us Crowns, then, of immortal Bayes.
To Heaven our souls, to Earth let's flesh assign,
But in our mindes let loyal honor shine.

59. In Comaedam celeberrimam Cinthiam dictam ad in stantiam alterius f [...]cit.

SIc vaga formosas superabat Cinthia Nymphas
Ut tu nunc socias Cinthia dicta tuas.
Quae tibi Majestas vultus, que gratia frontis!
Spiritus ut major quam muliebris inest?
Tam bene compositum suavis decet actio corpus
Ut posset credi singula membra loqui.
Cùm velis esse Venus, vel cùm velis esse Diana
Tam sunilis non est ipsa vel ipsa sibi,
Si velis esse Diana hos ô non desere saltus,
Haec nemus haec fontem florida scena dabit.
O si te nudam semel hoc in fonte viderem
Cornua tunc essent paena (que) grata canes.
Si Luna esse velis fiat tibi sphaera theatrum,
Pascantur radiis Lumina nostra tuis.
Sed raro hinc abeas, & cùm discedere velles
O si te possent Lumina nostra sequi;
[Page 102] Aut tua cum desit foelix praesentia nobis
Impressis liceat viribus us (que) srui.
Idem Anglicè versum.
AS wandring Cinthia all her Nymphs excells,
So dost thou all thy fellows; In thee dwells
Majesty mixt with loveliness, a spirit
That's more then womanish; thy graces merit,
And force a liking, as the lights above;
The Earths light vapours upwards force and move:
Thy action doth each passion so well fit,
As if each limb did help to utter it:
If thou wilt Venus or Diana be,
Neither will be so like her self as thee.
[...] thou be Diana, haunt these fields,
[...] both woods and fountains yeelds.
That I could see thee here but wash thy snow,
Acteon's fate Ide joy to undergo.
Wilt thou be th' Moon, then make thy sphere this stage;
But it were pitty thou shouldst change thy age;
And if from our Horizon thou shouldst go,
Still to view thee wee'd change Horizon too;
But that we may when thou art gone from hence,
Still be made happy by thy influence.
On one particular passage of her action, when she was to be stript of her cloaths by Fulvio, but not without much resistance. Videns excogitavit.
AS Fulvio Cinthia's glory would eclips,
And graced by her limbs, her robe off strips;
To see her how she strove, and pray'd, and cry'd,
But for the plays sake none could have deny'd.
And as she strove with him, so modesty
Did strive with anger for the mastery.
[Page 103] How was she pale with anger, red with shame!
Her colour chang'd, with choller went and came,
As when the winking moon strives with a cloude,
Whose glory darkness doth by fits enshroude:
was it nor envy, that we might not see
That which from th' smock could scarce discerned be;
Or wast for shamefastness: yes, yes, 'twas so,
That too much hiding of her face did show.
So look'd the Nymph which Iupiter beguil'd
I'th water with Diana got with child;
So Salmacis half ravish'd in the brook,
As she almost stript to her smock did look.
The Poet was too sparing, had she been
Like intrapt Venus nak'd to have been seen;
And with a net unhid been covered;
How on her limbs our hungry eyes had fed,
And dwelt on her seen members, whilst the rest
Had by proportion easily been guest:
But pitty 'twere that she enjoyn'd had been
So hard a penance, guilty of no sin.
Finis.

[Page] [Page] IGNATIUS HIS CONCLAVE: OR, His Inthronisation in a late Election in HELL.

Wherein many Things are mingled by way of SATYR.

Concerning
  • The disposition of Jesuites.
  • The Creation of a new Hell.
  • The establishing of a Church in the Moon.

There is also added an Apologie for IESUITES.

All dedicated to the Two ad­versary Angels, which are Prote­ctors of the Papall Consistory, and of the Colledge of SORBON.

By JOHN DONNE, Doctor of Divinity, and late Dean of Saint Pauls.

Printed at London, 1653.

To the two tutelar Angels, Protectors of the Popes Consistory, and of the Colledg OF SORBON.

MOst noble couple of Angels, lest it should be said that you did ne­ver agree, and never meet, but that you did ever ab­horre one another, and ever

Resemble Janus with a diverse face;

I attempted to bring and joyne you together once in these papers not that I might compose your differences, for you have not cho­son me for Arbi [...]or; but, that you might beware of an enemy [Page 108] common to you both, I will re­late what I saw. I was in an Ex­tasie, and

My little wandring sportful Soul,
Guest, and companion of my body,

had liberty to wander through all places, and to survey and reck­on all the roomes, and all the vo­lumes of the heavens, and to com­prehend the situation, the dimen­sions, the nature, the people & the policie, both of the swimming I­lands, the Planets, and of all those which are fixed in the Firmament. Of which, I think it an honester part as yet to be silent, then to doe Galilaeo wrong by speaking of it, who of late hath summoned Nuncius [...]ydereus. the other worlds, the Stars to come neerer to him, and give him an account of themselves, Or to Keppler, who (as himselfe testifies of himselfe) ever since Tycho Bra­ches death, hath received it into De stella [...] Cygno. his care, that no new thing should be done in heaven without his know­ledge. For by the law, Preventi­on must take place; and there­fore what they have found and [Page 109] discovered first, I am content they speake and utter first. Yet this they may vouchsafe to take from me, that they shall hardly find Enoch, or Elias any where in their circuit. When I had sur­veied all the heavens, then as

The Larke by busie and laborious wayes,
Having climb'd up th'ethereall hil, doth raise
His Hymnes to Phoebus Harpe: And striking then
His sailes, his wings, doth fal down back agen,
So suddenly, that one may safely say,
A stone came lazily that came that Way,

In the twinckling of an eye, I saw all the roomes in Hell open to my sight. And by the benefit of certain spectacles, I know not of what making, but I thinke, of the same, by which Gregory the great and Beda did discerne so distinctly the soules of their friends, when they were discharged from their [Page 110] bodies and sometimes the soules of such men as they knew not by sight, and of some that were ne­ver in the world, and yet they could distinguish them flying in­to Heaven, or conversing with li­ving men. I saw all the channels in the bowels of the Earth; and all the inhabitants of all nations, and of all ages were suddenly made familiar to mee. I thinke truly, Robert Aquinas when he Paleotus de Sin­done cap. 6. took Christ's long Oration, as he hung upon the Crosse, did use some such Instrument as this, but applyed to the eare: And so I Iosephina di Gieron Gratian. thinke did he, which dedicated to Adrian 6. that Sermon which Christ made in praise of his Fa­ther Ioseph: for else how did they heare that, which none but they ever heard? As for the Suburbs of Hel (I mean both Limbo and Purgatory) I must confess I pas­sed them over so negligently, that I saw them not: and I was hun­gerly carried, to finde new places, never discovered before. For Pur­gatory did not seem worthy to [Page 111] me of much diligence, because it may seem already to have been beleeved by some persons, in some corners of the Roman Church for about 50 yeares; that is ever since the Councell of Trent had a minde to fulfill the prophecies of Homer, Virgil, and the other Pa­triarks of the Papists, and being not satisfied with making one Transubstantiation, purposed to bring in another: which is, to change Fables into Articles of Faith. Proceeding therefore to more inward places, I saw a secret place, where there were not ma­ny, beside Lucifer himselfe; to which, onely they had title, which had so attempted any innovation in this life, that they gave an af­front to all Antiquity, and indu­ced doubts, and anxieties, and scruples, and after a libertie of be­leeving what they would, at length established opinions, di­rectly contrary to all established before. Of which place in Hell, Theod: Ni em: nemus unio, Tra. 6. cap. 29. Lucifer afforded us hertofore some little knowledge, when more [Page 112] then 200. yeares since, in an E­pistle written to the Cardinall S. Sexti, he promised him a roome in his palace, in the remotest part of his eternall Chaos, which I take to be this place. And here Pope Boniface 3. and Mahomet, seemed to contend about the highest room. He gloried of having ex­pelled an old Religion, and Ma­homet of having brought in a new; each of them a great deluge to the world. But it is to be feared, that Mahomet will fail therein, both because he attributed some­thing to the old Testament, and because he used Sergius as his fel­low-Bishop, in making the Alco­ran; whereas it was evident to the supreme Judge Lucifer, (for how could he be ignorant of that which himselfe had put into the Popes minde?) that Boniface had not only neglected, but destroyed the policy of the State of Israel, established in the old Testament, when he prepared Popes a way, to tread upon the necks of Princes, but that he also abstained from al [Page 113] Example and Coadjutor, when he took upon him that new name, which Gregory himselfe (a Pope neither very foolish, nor overmo­dest) ever abhord. Besides that every day affords new Advocates to Boniface his side. For since the Franciscans were almost worne out (of whom their General Fran­cis, Sedulius Apolog. pro libro Con form. l. 2. cap. 2. had seen 6000, Souldiers in one army, that is, in one Chap­ter) which, because they were then but fresh Souldiers, he saw assisted with 18000 Devils; the Iesuits have much recompenced those decaies and damages, who sometimes have maintained in Harlay defence des Iesu­ites. their Tents, 200000 Schollers. For though the Order of Bene­dict have ever been so fruitful, that they say of it, That all the new Or­ders, Vollader: deCanoni­za Fran cis Ro. in Epist. which in latter times have broken out, are but little springs, or drops, and that Order the Ocean, which hath sent out 52 Popes, 200 Cardinals, 1600 Archbi­shops, 4000 Bishops, and 5000 Saints, approved by the Church, and therefore it cannot be denied, [Page 114] but that Boniface his part is much relieved by that Order; yet if they be compared to the Iesuits, or to the weak and unperfect types of them, the Franciscans, it is no great matter that they have done. Though therefore they esteem Mahomet worthy of the name of an Innovator, and there­in perchance not much inferior to Boniface, yet since his time, to ours, almost all which have fol­lowed his S [...]t, have lived barren in an [...] and idle con­cord, and cannot boast that they have produced any new matter: whereas Boniface his Successors awakened by him, have ever been fruitfull in bringing forth new sinnes, and new pardons, and Idolatries, and King-killings. Though therefore it may religi­ously, and piously be beleeved, that Turks as well as Papists, come daily in Troops to the or­dinary and common places of Hell; yet certainly to this more honorable room reserved for especiall Innovators, the Papists [Page 115] have more frequent accesse; and therefore Mahomet is out of hope to prevail, and must imitate the Christian Emperours, and bee content to sit (as yet he doth) at the Popes feet. Now to this place not onely such endeavour to come, as have Innovated in mat­ters directly concerning the soul, but they also which have done so, either in the Arts, or in conversa­tion, or in any thing which exer­ciseth the faculties of the Soule, and may so provoke to quarrel­some and brawling controversies, for so the truth be lost, it is no no matter how. But the gates are seldome opened, nor scarce oft­ [...] then once in an age. But my destiny favored me so much, that I was present then, and saw all the pretenders, and all that affected an entrance, and Lucifer himself, who then came out into the out­ward chamber, to heare them plead their own Causes. As soon as the door creekt, I spied a cer­tain Mathematician, which till then had been busted to finde, to [Page 116] deride, to detrude Ptolomey; and now with an erect countenance, and setled pace, came to the gates, and with hands and feet, (scarce respecting Lucifer him­selfe) beat the doors and cried; Are these shut against me, to whom all the Heavens were ever open, who was a Soul to the Earth, and gave it motion?

By this I knew it was Coperni­cus: For though I had never heard ill of his life, and therefore might wonder to find him there; yet when I remembred that the Papists have extended the name and punishment of Heresie, al­most to every thing, and that as yet I used Gregories and Bedes Bellar. de Purgat. lib. 2. c. 8. spectacles, by which one saw Ori­gen, who deserved so well of the Christian Church, burning in hell, I doubted no longer, but assured my selfe that it was Copernicus which I saw, to whom Lucifer said, Who are you? For though even by this boldness you seem worthy to enter, and have attempted a new faction even in Hell, yet you must [Page 117] first satisfie those which stand about you, and which expect the same fortune as you doe. Except, O Lu­cifer, answered Copernicus, I thought thee of the Race of the Starre Lucifer, with which I am so well acquainted, I should not vouchsafe thee this discourse. I am he, which pitying thee who wert thrust into the center of the world, raised both thee and thy prison, the Earth, up into the Heavens; so as by my means, God doth not enjoy his revenge upon thee. The Sunne, which was an officious Spy, and a betrayer of faults and so thy ene­my, I have appointed to goe into the lowest part of the world. Shall these Gates open to such as have Innovated in small matters, and shall they be shut against me, who have turned the whole frame of the world, and am thereby almost a new Creator. More then this he spoke not. Lucifer stuck in a me­ditation. For what should he doe? It seemed unjust to deny entry to him which had deserved so well, and dangerous to grant [Page 118] it to one of so great ambitions, and undertakings: Nor did he think that himself had attempted greater matters before his fall. Somthing he had which he might have conveniently opposed, but he was loath to utter it, lest he should confesse his fear. But Ig­natius Loyola which was got neer his chaire, a subtile fellow, and so indued with the Devill, that he was able to tempt, and not onely that, but (as they say) even to possesse the Devill, ap­prehended this perplexity in Lu­cifer. And making himselfe sure of his own entrance, and know­ing well, that many thousands of his family aspired to that place, he opposeth himself against all o­thers. He was content they should be damned, but not that they should govern. And though when he died he was utterly ignorant in all great learning, and knew not so much as Ptolomeys or Co­pernicus name, but might have been perswaded that the words Almagest, Zenith, and Nadir, [Page 119] were Saints names, and fit to be put into the Letanie, and Ora pro nobis joyned to them; yet after he had spent some time in hell, he had learnt somewhat of his Ie­suits, which daily came thither. And whilst he staied at the thre­shold of Hell, that is, from the time when he delivered himselfe over to the Popes will, he took a little tast of learning. Thus fur­nisht, thus he undertakes Coper­nicus. ‘Doe you think to win our Lucifer to your part, by al­lowing him the honour of be­ing of the Race of that Starre? who was not onely made before all the Stars, but being glutted with the glory of shining there, transferred his dwelling and Co­lonies unto this Monarchy, and thereby gave our Order a noble example, to spy, to invade, and to possesse foraign King­doms. Can our Lucifer or his followers have any honour from that Star Lucifer, which is but Ve [...]us? Whose face how much we scorn, appears by this, that [Page 120] for the most part we use her aversly and preposterously. Ra­ther let our Lucifer glory in Lu­cifer the Calaritan Bishop; not therefore because he is placed amongst Heretiques, onely for affirming the propagation of August de Haer. c. 81 the soule; but especially for this, that he was the first that opposed the dignity of Princes, and imprinted the names of Antichrist, Iudas, and other stigmatique marks upon the Emperour; But for you, what new thing have you invented, by which our Lucifer gets any thing? What cares he whether the earth travel, or stand still? Hath your raising up of the earth into heaven, brought men to that confidence, that they build new towres or threaten God again? Or do they out of this motion of the earth con­clude, that there is no hell, or deny the punishment of sin? Do not men believe? do they not live just as they did before? Besides, this detracts from the [Page 121] dignity of your learning, and derogates from your right and title of coming to this place, that those opinions of yours, may very well be true. If therefore any man have honour or title to this place in this matter, it belongs wholly to our Clavins, who opposed himself opportunely against you, and the truth, which at that time was creeping into every mans minde. He only can be called the Author of all contentions, and School-com­bates in this cause; and no grea­ter profit can be hoped for here in, but that for such brables, more necessary matters be neg­lected. And yet not only for this is our Clavius to be hono­red, but for the great pains al­so which he took in the Grego­rian Calender, by which both the peace of the Church, and civil businesses have been egre­giously troubled: nor hath hea­ven it self escaped his violence, but hath ever since obeyed his [Page 122] appointments: so that S. Ste­ven, Iohn Baptist, and all the Harlay. defence dis Iesu­ites mes­di. 6. rest, which have been comman­ded to work miracles at certain appointed days, where their re­liques are preserved, do not now attend till the day come, as they were accustomed, but are a­waked ten days sooner, and constrained by him to come down from heaven to do that business. But your inventions can scarce be called yours, since before you, Heraclides, Ecphan­tus, and Aristarchus thrust them into the world: who notwithstanding content them­selves with lower roomes a­mongst the other Philosophers, and aspire not to this place, re­served only for Antichristian Heroes: neither do you agree so well amongst your selves, as that you can be said to have made a Sect, since, as you have perverted and changed the or­der and Scheme of others: so Tycho Brachy hath done by yours, and others by his. Let [Page 123] therefore this little Mathemati­cian (dread Emperour) with­draw himself to his own com pany. And if hereafter the Fathers of our Order can draw a Cathedrall Decree from the Pope, by which it may be de­fined as a matter of Faith, That the earth doth not move; and an Anathema inflicted upon all which hold the contrary: then perchance both the Pope which shall decree that, and Coperni­cus his followers (if they be Pa­pists) may have the dignity of this place.’ Lucifer signified his assent: and Copernicus without muttering a word, was as quiet as he thinks the Sunne: when he which stood next him, entred into his place. To whom Lucifer said: And who are you? He answered, ‘Philippus Aure­olus Theophrastus Paracelsus Bombast of Hohenheim.’ At this Lucifer trembled, as if it were a new Exorcîsme, and he thought it might well be the first verse of S. Iohn, which is always imploy­ed [Page 124] in Exorcismes, and might now be taken out of the Welch or I­rish Bibles. But when he under­stood that it was but the web of his name, he recollected himself, and raising himself upright, asked was he had to say to the great Emperour Sathan, Lucifer, Bel­zebub, Leviathan, Abaddon. Pa­racelsus replyed, ‘It were an inju­ry to thee, O glorious Emperor, if I should deliver before thee what I have done, as though all those things had not proceeded from thee, which seemed to have bin done by me, thy organ and conduit; yet since I shal rather be thy trumpet herein then mine own, some things may be utter­ed by me. Besides therefore that I brought all Methodicall Physicians and the Art it self into so much contempt, that that kinde of Physick is almost lost; this also was ever my prin­cipal purpose, that no certain new Art, nor fixed rules might be established, but that all re­medies might be dangerously [Page 125] drawn from my uncertain, rag­ged, and unperfect experiments, in tryal whereof how many men have been made carkases? And falling upon those times which did abound with paradox­icall and unusual diseases, of all which, the pox, which then began to rage, was almost the center and sink: I ever profes­sed an assured and an easie cure thereof, lest I should deterr any from their licentiousness. And whereas almost all poysons are so disposed and conditioned by nature, that they offend some of the senses, and so are easily di­scerned and avoided, I brought it to pass, that that treacherous quality of theirs might be re­moved and so they might safely be given without suspicion, and yet perform their office as strongly. All this I must con­fess I wrought by thy minerals and by thy fires, but yet I can­not despair of my reward, be­cause I was thy first minister and instrument in these innova­tions.’ [Page 126] By this time Ignatius had observed a tempest risen in Lucifers countenance: for he was just of the same temper as Lucifer, and therefore suffered with him in every thing, and felt all his alterations. That there­fore he might deliver him from Paracelsus, he said; ‘You must not think sir, that you may here draw out an Oration to the proportion of your name. It must be confessed that you at­tempted great matters, and well becoming a great officer of Lu­cifer, when you undertook not only to make a man in your A­limbecks, but also to preserve him immortal. And it can­not be doubted, but that out of your Commentaries upon the Scriptures, in which you were utterly ignorant, many men have taken occasion of erring, and thereby this kingdom much indebted to you. But must you therefore have access to this se­cret place? What have you compassed even in Physick it [Page 127] self, of which we Iesuits are ig­norant? For though our Ri­badenegra have reckoned none of our Order, which hath writ­ten in [...]ysick, yet how able and sufficient wee are in that faculty, I will be tryed by that Pope who hath given a privi­ledge Bulla 18 in Gre [...] cont. [...] a [...] o­vius de Majest. E [...]s. milic. c. 7 to Iesuits to practise Phy­sick and to be present at Deaths­bed, (a) which is denyed to o­ther Orders: for why should he deny us their bodies, whose souls he delivered to us? and since he hath transferd upon us the power to practise Physick, he may justly be thought to have transferd upon us the art it self by the same Omnipotent Bull; since he which grants the end, is by our Rules of Law presumed to have granted all means necessary to that end. Let me (dread Emperour) have leave to speak truth before thee; These men abuse and profane too much thy mettals, which are the bowels and treasure of thy Kingdom: For what doth [Page 128] Physick profit thee? Physick is a soft and womanish thing. For since no medicine doth na­turally Mosnes. Theor. 1 cap. 2. draw blood, that sci­ence is not fit nor worthy of our study. Besides, why should those things which belong to you, be imployed to preserve from diseases, or to procure long life? were it not fitter that your Brother and Colleague, the Bishop of Rome, which go­verns upon the face of your earth, and gives daily increase to your Kingdom, should re­ceive from you these helps and subsidies? To him belongs all the gold, to him all the precious stones, conceald in your intrals, wherby he might bait & ensnare the Princes of the earth, through their Lords and Councellours means, to his obedience, and to receive his commandments, e­specially in these times, when almost every where his antient rights and tributes are denyed unto him. To him belongs your Iron, and the ignobler [Page 129] mettals, to make engines; To him belongs your Minerals apt for poyson; To him the Salt­peter, and all the Elements of Gun-powder, by which he may demolish and overthrow Kings and Kingdoms, and Courts, and seats of Justice. Neither doth Paracelsus truly deserve the name of an Innovator, whose doctrin Severi [...]us and his other followers do referr to the most ancient times. Think therefore your self well satisfied, if you be admitted to govern in chief that Legion of Homicid Phy­sicians, and of Princes which shall be made away by poyson in the midst of their sins, and of women tempting by pain­tings and face-Physick. Of all which sorts great numbers will daily come hither out of your Academy.

Content with this sentence, Paracelsus departed; and Machi­avel succeeded, who having ob­served Ignatius his forwardness, and sauciness, and how, uncald, [Page 130] he had thrust himself into the of­fice of Kings-Attorney, thought this stupid patience of Coperni­cus and Paracelsus, (men which tasted too much of their Germa­ny) unfit for a Florentine: and therefore had provided some ve­nemous darts, out of his Italian Arsenal, to cast against this worn souldier of Pampelune, this French-Spanish mungrell, Ig­natius. But when he thought better upon it, and observed that Lucifer ever approved whatsoe­ver Ignatius said, he suddenly changed his purpose; and put­ting on another resolution, he determined to direct his speech to Ignatius, as to the principall person next to Lucifer, as well by this means to sweeten and mol­lifie him, as to make Lucifer su­spect, that by these honours and specious titles offered to Ignatius and entertained by him, his own dignity might be eclipsed or clou­ded; and that Ignatius by win­ning to his side politique men, exercised in civil businesses, might [Page 131] attempt some innovation in that Kingdom. Thus therefore he began to speak. ‘Dread Empe­ror, and you, his watchfull and diligent Genius, father Ignatius, Arch-Chancellor of this Court, and highest Priest of this high­est Synagogue (except the pri­macy of the Roman Church reach also unto this place) let me before I descend to myself, a little consider, speak, and ad­mire your stupendious wisdom, and the Government of this state. You may vouchsafe to remember great Emperor) how long after the Nazarens death, you were forced to live a solita­ry, a barren, and an Eremiticall life, till at last, as it was ever your fashion to imitate Heaven) out of your aboundant love, you begot this dearly beloved son of yours, Ignatius, which stands at your right hand. And from both of you proceeds a spirit, whom you have sent into the world, who triumphing both with Mitre and Crown, governs [Page 132] your Militant Church there. As for those sons of Ignatius, whom either he left alive, or were born after his death, and your spirit, the Bishop of Rome, how justly and properly may they be cal­led equivocall men? And not only equivocall in that sense, in which the Popes Legates, at your Nicene Councel were cal­led Equivocal, because they did agree in all their opinions, and in all their words: but especially because they have brought into the world a new art of Equivo­cation. O wonderfull and in­credible Hypercritiques, who not out of marble fragments, but out of the secretest Records of Hell it self, that is, out of the minds of Lucifer, the Pope and Ignatius, (persons truely equi­vocall) have raised to life again the language of the Tower of Babel so long concealed, and brought us again from under­standing one another. For my part (O noble pair of Emperors) that I may freely confess the [Page 133] truth, all which I have done, wheresoever there shall be men­tion made of the Jesuits, can be reputed but childish, for this honour I hope will not be de­nied me, that I brought in an Alphabet, and provided cer­tain elements, and was some kind of Schoolmaster in pre­paring them a way to higher undertakings; yet it grieves me and makes me ashamed that I should be ranked with this idle and Chymaericall Copernicus, or this cadaverous vulture, Pa­racelsus. I scorn that those gates into which such men could conceive any hope of entrance, should not voluntarily flye open to me: yet I can better endure the rashness and fellowship of Paracelsus then the other: be­cause he having been conveni­ently practised in the butcheries and mangling of men, he had the reason to hope for favour of the Jesuits: For I my self went always that way of blood, and therefore I did ever prefer the [Page 134] sacrifices of the Gentiles and of the Iews, which were perfor med with effusion of bloud (whereby not only the people but the Priests also were ani­mated to bold enterprises) be­fore the soft and wanton sacri­fices of Christians. If I might have had my choice, I should rather have wished that the Ro­man Church had taken the Bread than the Wine from the people, since in the wine there is some colour to imagin and represent blood. Neither did you (most reverend Bishop of this diocess Ignatius) abhor from this way of blood. For having conse­crated your first age to the wars, and grown, somewhat unable to follow that course by reason of a wound; you did present­ly begin to think seriously of a spiritual war against the Church and found means to open waies even into Kings chambers, for your executioners. Which dig­nity you did not reserve only to your own Order, but (though [Page 135] I must confes, that the founda­tion, and the nourishment of this doctrine remains with you, and is peculiar to you, out of your infinite liberalitie,) you have vouchsafed sometime, to use the hands of other men in these im­ployments. And therefore as well they, who have so often in vain attempted it in England, as they which have brought their great purposes to effect in France, are indebted only to you for their courage and reso­lution. But yet although the en­trance into this place may be de­creed to none, but to Innova­tors, and to only such of them as have dealt in Christian busi­nesse, and of them also, to those only which have had the fortune to doe much harme; I cannot see but that next to the Iesuits, I must be invited to enter, since I did not only teach those wayes by which, thorough perfidious­nesse and dissembling of Religion, a man might possesse and usurpe upon the liberty of free Common­wealths; [Page 136] but also did arme and furnish the people with my in­structions, how when they were under this oppression, they might safeliest conspire, and remove a tyrant, or revenge themselves of their Prince and redeem their former losses; so that from both sides, both from Prince and peo­ple, I brought an abundant har­vest, and a noble encrease to this kingdome.’ By this time I perceived Lucifer to be much mo­ved with this Oration, and to in­cline much towards Machiavel; For he did acknowledge him to be a kind of Patriarke, of those whom they call Laymen. And he had long observed, that the Clergie of Rome tumbled down to Hell daily, easily, voluntarily, and by troupes, because they were ac­customed to sinn against their conscience, and knowledge; but that the Laitie sinning out of a sloathfulnesse, and negligence of finding the truth, did rather of­fend by ignorance and omission. And therefore he thought himself [Page 137] bound to reward Machiavel, which had awakened this drowsie and implicite Laitie to greater, and more bloudie Vndertakings. Besides this, since Ignatius could not be denied the place, whose ambitions and turbulencies Luci­fer understood very well, he thought Machiavel a fit and ne­cessarie Instrument to oppose a­gainst him; that so the skales be­ing kept even by their factions, he might govern in peace, and two poysons mingled might doe no harme. But he could not hide this intention from Ignatius, more subtil than the Devil and the verier Lucifer of the two: Therefore Ignatius rushed out, threw himselfe down at Lucifers feet, and groveling on the ground adored him. Yet certainly, Vas­ques would not call this idolatry, because in the shape of the Devill he worshipped him, whom he ac­counted the true God. Here Ig­natius cryed, and thundred out,

With so great noise and horror,
That had that powder taken fire, by which
[Page 138] All the Isle of Britain had flowne to the Moon,
It had not equalled this noyse and horror.

And when he was able to speake distinctly, thus he spoke;

It can­not be said (unspeakable Emper­our) how much this obscure Flo­rentine hath transgressed a­gainst thee, and against the Pope thy image-bearer, (whe­ther the word be accepted, as Imagina­rium. Gratian takes it when he calles the Scriptures; Imaginary Books or as they take it, which give 21 q. Om­nis ja­ctura. that stile to them who carry the Emperours Image in the field;) and last of all against our Modest. in verb. Mi­lite Order. Durst any man before him; thinke upon this kind of in­jury, and calumny, as to hope that he should be able to flatter, to catch, to entrap Lucifer him­selfe? Certainly, whosoever flat­ters any man, and presents him those prayses, which in his own opinion are not due to him, thinkes him inferiour to himself, [Page 139] and makes account that he hath taken him prisoner, and tri­umphs over him. Who ever flat­ters, either he derides, or (at the best) instructs. For there may be, even in flattery, an honest kind of teaching, if Princes by being told that they are already indued with all vertues necessa­ry for their functions, be there­by taught what those vertues are, and by a facile exhortation, excited to endeavor to gaine them. But was it fit that this fel­low, should dare either to de­ride you, or (which is the grea­ter injury) to teach you? Can it be beleeved, that he delivers your prayses from his heart, and and doth not rather herein fol­low Gratians levity; who sayes: That you are called Prince of the 32. q. 2. Pudor. world, as a king at Chests, or as the Cardinall of Ravenna, only by derision? This man, whilst he li­ved, attributed so much to his own wit, that he never thought himselfe beholden to your helps, and insinuations; and was so [Page 140] farr from invoking you, or sa­crificing to you, that he did not so much as acknowledge your kingdome nor beleeve that there was any such thing in Nature as you. I must confess that he had the same opinion of God also; therefore deserves a place here, and a better then any of the Pa­gan or Gentile Idolaters: For in every Idolatry and false wor­ship there is some Religion, and some perverse simplicity, which tasts of humility; from all which this man was very free when in his heart he utterly denied that there was any God. Yet since he thought so in earnest, and be­leeved that those things which he affirmed were true, he must not be ranked with them; which having been sufficiently instru­cted of the true God, and be­leeving him to be so, doe yet fight against him in his enemies Army. Neither ought it to be imputed to us as a fault, that sometimes in our Exorcismes we we speak ill of you, and call you [Page 141] Heretick and Drunkard, and Flagel. Daemon. Menghi. Whisperer, and scabbed Beast, and conjure the elements that they should not receive you, and threa­ten you with indissoluble dam­nation, and torments a thou­sand thousand times worse then you suffer yet. For these things you know are done out of a se­cret covenant and contract be­tween us, and out of mysteries which must not be opned to this Neophite, who in our Synagogue is yet but amongst the Catechu­meni. Which also we acknow­ledge of Holy Water, and our Agnus Dei, of which you do so wisely dissemble a feare, when they are presented to you: For certainly if there were any true force in them, To deliver Bodies from Diseases, Souls from Sinnes, and the Elements from Spirits, and malignant Impressions, (as in the verses which Urban the fifth sent with his Agnus Dei to the Emperor it is pretended) it Summa Bullarii, verbo Ag­nus Dei. had bin reason that they should first have exercised their force [Page 142] upon those verses, and so have purged and delivered them, if not from Heresie, yet from Barbarousnesse and Soloecismes; that Hereticks might not justly say, There was no truth in any of them but onely the last; which is,
That the least piece which thence doth fall,
Will doe one as much good as all.
And though our Order have adventured further in Exor­cismes then the rest, yet that must be attributed to a speciall priviledge, by which we have leave to question any possessed persons of what matters we wil; whereas all other Orders are miserably bound to the pre­sent matter, and the businesse then in hand. For though I do not believe, that either from your selfe, or from your Vicar the Pope, any such priviledge is issued; yet our Cotton deserves to be praised, who being que­stioned, how he durst propose certain seditious Interrogatories [Page 143] to a possessed person, to deliver himselfe, feigned such a privi­ledge; and with an un-heard­of boldness, and a new kind of falsifying, did (in a manner) counterfeit Lucifers hand and seal, since none but he onely could give this priviledg: But if you consider us out of this li­berty in Exorcismes, how hum­ble and servile we are towards you, the Relations of Peru te­stifie enough, where it is recor­ded, that when one of your an­gels at midnight appeared to our Barcena alone in his Chamber, Litera di Diego Torres. he presently rose out of his chaire, and gave him the place, whom he professed to be farre worthier thereof then he was. But to proceed now to the inju­ries which this fellow hath done to the Bishop of Rome, although very much might be spoken, yet by this alone, his disposition may be sufficiently discerned, that he imputes to the Pope, vul­gar and popular sins, far unwor­thy of his greatnesse. Weak [Page 144] praising is a kind of accusing, and we detract from a mans ho­nour, if when we praise him for small things, and would seem to have said all, we conceal grea­ter. Perchance this man had seen some of the Catalogues of Reserv'd Cases, which every year the Popes encrease, and he might think, that the Popes did therefore reserve these sinnes to themselves, that they only might commit them. But either he is ignorant or injurious to them. For can they be thought to have taken away the liberty of sin­ning from the people, who doe not onely suffer men to keep Concubines, but sometimes doe command them? who make Dist. 32. qui. St. Peter beholden to the Stews for part of his Revenue: and who excuse women from the in­famous name of Whore, till they have delivered themselves over to 23000 men. The Professors Ibid. Vi­dua. Scappus de jure non script- l. 1. c. 54. of which Religion teach, That University Men which keep Whores in their chambers, may not [Page 145] be expeld for that, because it ought to be presumed before hand, that Scholars will not live with­out them. Shall he be thought to have a purpose of deterring others from sinne, which pro­vides so well for their security, that he teaches, that he may dis­pense in all the Commandements Sum. An­gel. verb. Papa, N: 1 of the second Table, and in all Morall Law; and that those Commandements of the second Table can neither be called Prin­ciples nor Conclusions, necessarily deduced from Principles? And therefore (as they ever love that manner of teaching) he did il­lustrate his Rule with an exam­ple, and dispensed in a marriage between Brother and Sister, and hath hoorded up so many In dulgencies in one Barn, the Ci­tie of Rome, that it is easy for any man in an hour or two, to draw out pardons enough for 100000 years. How clear a witnesse of this liberality is Leo the tenth? who onely for rehearsing once the Lords Prayer, and thrice re­peating [Page 146] the name of Iesu (be it spoken here without horror) hath given three thousand years Indulgence. How profuse a Steward or Auditor was Boni­face, who acknowledges so ma­ny Indulgences to be in that one Church of Lateran, that none but God can number them? Be­sides these plenary Indulgences are given not onely to the Fran­ciscans themselves, but to their parents also, and to any which dies in their habit; and to any which desire that they may doe so: and to those who are wrap­ped in it after death, though they did not desire it; and five years Indulgence to those who doe but kisse it. And at last, Cle­ment the seventh by a priviledge first given to one Order (which since is communicated to our Order, as the priviledge of all other Orders are) gave to any who should but visit a place be­longing to them, or any other place if he could not come thi­ther, or if he could come to no [Page 147] such place, yet if he had but a desire to it, All Indulgences which had been granted, or here­after should be granted in the uni­versal world. And though it be true, that if in any of these Indul­gences a certain sum of money were limited to be given (as for the most part it is) a poor man who could not give that money though he were never so con­trite for his sinnes, could have no benefit thereby: and though Gerson durst call those Indulgen­ces foolish and superstitious, which gave twenty thousand yeares pardon for rehearsing one pray­er, yet they doe abundantly te­stifie the Popes liberall disposi­tion, and that he is not so co­vetous in reserving sinnes to himselfe; but if perchance once in an hundred years, some one of the scum of the people be put to death for Sodomy; and that not so much for the offence, as for usurping the right of the Eccle­sia stick Princes, we must not much lament nor grudge at that, [Page 148] since it is onely done to discon­tinue and interrupt a prescripti­on, to gain which Title the Lai­ty hath ever been very forward against the Clergie: for even in this kind of his delicacies, the Pope is not so reserved and co­vetous, but that he allowes a tast thereof to his Cardinals, whom whom you once called Carpidi­neros (by an elegancie proper Money­takers. onely to your Secretaries the Monkes) in an Epistle which Theol. Ni­em. nemus unio Tract 6. c. 29. you writ to one of that Col­ledge: for since the Cardinals are so compacted into the Pope, and so made his own body, That it is not lawfull for them without Rod: Cu­pers de Eccles: univers: fol. 4. licence first obtained from him, to be let blood in a Fever, what may be denied unto them? or what kind of sin is likely to bee left out of their glorious priviled­ges. which are at least two hun­dred? Which Order the Pope can Azor: par: 2. l. 4. c: 1. Moscont­us de Maj. Eccl. Mil: c: 5. ibid: Idem c: 6. no more remove out of the Ecclesi­asticke Hirarchy, then he can Bi­shops; both because Cardinals were instituted by God, and be­cause [Page 149] the Apostles themselves were Cardinalls before they were Bi­shops. Whom also in their creati­on he stiles his brothers, & Prin­ces Scappus de Iure non scrip: l: 1. c: 25. of the world, and co-judges of the whole earth, and to perfect all, That there are so many Kings as there are Cardinals. O feare­full body; and as in many other things, so in this especially mon­strous, that they are not able to propagate their species: For Azor: ubi supra. all the Cardinals in a vacancy are not able to make one Cardinal more. To these men certainely the Pope doth no more grudge the plurality of sins, then hee doth of Benefices. And he hath been content, that even Borgia should enjoy, this dignity, if he hath heaped up by his ingenius wickednesse, more sorts of sins in one Act, then (as far as I know) as any the Popes them­selvs have attempted: For he did not only give the full rein to his licentiousnesse, but raging with a second ambition, he would al­so change the sek. Therein also [Page 150] his stomack was not towardes young, beardlesse boyes, nor such green fruit: for he did not thinke, that he went farr enough from the right Sex, except he had a manly, a reverend, and a bearded Venus. Neither staied he there; but his witty lust pro­ceeded further: yet he solicited not the Minions of the Popes, but striving to equall the licen­ciousnesse of Sodomites which would have had the Angels; to come as neer them as he could, he tooke a Cleargy-man, one of the portion and lot of the Lord; and so made the maker of God, a Priest subject to his lust; nor did he seek him out in a Cloyster, or Quire; but that his Venus might be the more monstrous, he would have her in a Mitre. And yet his prodigi­ous lust was not at the height; as much as he could he added: and having found a Man a Cler­gy man, a Bishop, he did not sol­licite him with entreaties, and rewards, but ravished him by [Page 151] force. Since then the Popes doe out of the fulnesse of their power, come to those kindes of sinn, which have neither Exam­ple nor Name, insomuch that Pope Paulus Venetus which used Plat: in vit: Adr. I. to paint himselfe, and desired to seem a woman, was called the Goddesse Cibele, which was not without misterie, since, prosti­tute boyes are sacred to that Goddesse) and since they doe not grant ordinarily that liberty of practising sinnes, till they have used their own right and privi­ledge of Prevention and Antici­pation; This pratling fellow Machiavel, doth but treache­rously, and dishonestly preva­ricate, and betray the cause, if he thinke he hath done enough for the dignity of the Popes, when he hath affoorded to them, sins common to all the world. The transferring of Empires, the ru­ine of Kingdomes, the Excom­munications, and depositions of Kings, and devastations by fire and sword, should have been [Page 152] produced as their marks & cha­racters: for though the exam­ples of the Popes transferring the Empire, which our men so much stand upon, be not indeed true, nor that the ancient Popes practised any such thing; yet since the States-men of our Or­der, wiser then the rest have found how much this Temporall jurisdiction over Princes, con­duces to the growth of the Church, they have perswaded the Popes, that this is not onely lawfull for them, but often pra­ctised heretofore: And there­fore they provide that the Ca­nons, Apologia pro Gar­nete. and Histories be detor­ted to that opinion: for though one of our Order doe weaken that famous Canon, Nos Sanctorum, which was used still to be produced for this doctrin, yet he did it then when the King of Great Bri­tain was to be mollified and sweetned towards us, and the Laws to be mitigated, and when himself had put on the name [Page 153] Eudaemon. But let him return to his true state, and profess himself a Cacodaemon, and he will be of our opinion. In which respect also we may pardon our Cudsemius his rashness, when he denies the English Na­tion De despe­rata Calv: causa, c. 11 to be heretiques, because they remain in a perpetual succession of Bishops: For herein these men have thought it fit to fol­low in their practise, that trans­lation which reads the words of Paul; Serve the time, and not that which says; Serve the Lord. Rom: 12. 11 As for the injury which this petty companion hath offered to our Order, since in our wrongs both yours and the Popes Ma­jesty is wounded, since to us as to your Dictators, both you have given that large and anti­ [...]ent Commission, that we should take care that the state take no harm, we cannot doubt of our revenge: yet this above all the rest, doth especially ve [...] me, that that when he cals me Prelate and Bishop (names which we so [Page 154] much abhor and detest) I know well that out of his inward ma­lignity he hath a relation to Bellarmines, and Tolets Sacrile­gious Vow-breaking ambitions, by which they imbraced the Cardinalship, and other Church dignities: but herein this poor fellow unacquainted with our affairs, is deceived, being igno­rant that these men by this act of being thus incorporated into the Pope, are so much the near­er to their Center and final hap­piness, this chamber of Lucifer, and that by the breach of a vow which themselves thought just, they have got a new title there­unto: for the Cardinalship is our Martyrdom: and though not many of our Order have had that strength that they have been such Martyrs, and that the Popes themselves have been pleased to transfer this persecuti­on into the other Orders, who have had more Cardinals than we; yet without doubt for such of ours which have had so much [Page 155] courage, new Crowns, and new Garlands, appropriate to our Martyrs, are prepared for them in this their Heaven; be­cause being inabled by greater means they are fitter for grea­ter mischiefs. We therefore lament the weakness of our Lay­nez Ribadi­neyra Ca­tal: fol: 60 & 100. and our Borgia, who refu­sed the Cardinalship offered by Paulus 4. and Iulius 3. for in this place and this meeting it is not unfit to say they did so, e­ven amongst the antient Romans Brisson de formul: l: [...] when they sacrificed to you those sacrifices which offerd a­ny resistance, were ever reputed unaccepted: and therefore our Bellarmine deserves much praise, who finding a new Genius and courage in his new Cardinalship, set out his Retractions and cor­rected all those places in his Works, which might any way be interpreted in the favour of Princes. But let us pass over all these things; for we under­stand one another well enough: and let us more particularly [Page 156] consider those things which this man who pretends to exceed all ancient and Modern Statesmen boasts to have been done by him. Though truely no man will easily believe, that he hath gone far in any thing which did so tire at the beginning or mid­way, that having seen the Pope and known him, yet could never come to the knowledge of the Devil. I know what his excuse and escape will be; that things must not be extended in­finitely; that we must consist and arrest somewhere, and that more means and instruments ought not to be admitted where the matter may be dispatched by fewer. When therefore he was sure that the Bishop of Rome was the cause of all mischief, and the first mover thereof, he chose rather to settle and deter­mine in him, than by acknow­ledging a Devil to induce a new tyranny, and to be driven to confess that the Pope had usur­ped upon the Devils right, which [Page 157] opinion if any man be pleased to maintain, we do not forbid him: but yet it must be an ar­gument to us of no very nimble wit, if a man do so admire the Pope that he leave out the Devil, and so worship the Image, with­out relation to the Prototype and first pattern. But besides this, how idle and how very nothings they are which he hath shoveld together in his books, this makes it manifest that some of every Religion and of every professi­on have risen up against him, and no man attempted to de­fend him: neither do I say this because I think his doctrin the worse for that, but it is there­fore the less artificially carried, and the less able to work those ends to which it is directed. For our part we have not proceeded so. For we have dished and dressed our precepts in these af­fairs with such cunning, that when our own men produce them to ens [...]re and establish our pupils, then we put upon [Page 158] them the majesty and reverence of the Doctrin of the Church and of the common opinions: But when our adversaries alledge them either to cast envy upon us, or to deterr the weaker sort; then they are content with a lower room, and vouchsafe to step aside into the rank of privat opinions. And the Canons them­selves are with us sometime glorious in their mitres and pon­tifical habits and sound nothing but meer Divine resolutions out of the Chair it self, and so have the force of Oracles, sometimes we say they are ragged and lame, and do but whisper with a doubtfull and uncertain mur­mure, a hollow cloystral, or an eremiticall voice, and so have no more authority than those poor men which writ them: sometimes we say they were but rashly throwne into the peo­ples ears out of Pulpits in the Homilies of fathers; some­times that they were derived out of such Councels as suffered a­bortion, [Page 159] and were delivered of their children, which are their Canons before inanimation, which is the Popes assent; or out of such Councels as are now discontinued and dead (howsoever they remained long time in use, and lively and in good state of health) and ther­fore cannot be thought fit to be used now, or applyed in civil businesses; sometimes we say the Popes voice is in them all by his approbation; sometimes that only the voice of those au­thors from whom they are ta­ken speaks in them. And ac­cordingly we deliver divers and various Philosyphy upon our Gratian who compiled them; sometimes we allow him the ho­nour and dignity of Diamonds and the nobler sort of stones, which have both their clearness and their firmness from this, for that they are compacted of less parts and atomes then o­thers are: and so is Gratian; whom for the same cause, some­times [Page 160] we account but a hill of many sands cast together, and very unfit to receive any foun­dation. I must confess that the Fathers of our Order, out of a youthful fiercenes which made them dare and undertake any thing (for our Order was scarce at years at that time) did amiss in inducing the Councel of Trent to establish certain Rules and Definitions from which it might not be lawfull to depart: for indeed there is no remedy but that sometimes we must de­part from them: nor can it be dissembled that both the wri­ters of our Order, and the Do­minicans have departed from them in that great war and Tra­gedy lately raised at Rome about Grace and Freewill: For it is not our purpose that the writings of our men should be so ratified that they may not be changed so that they be of our Order which change them: so by the same liberty which Daemon Io­annes hath taken in delivering [Page 161] the King of Britain from the danger of Deposition; (because as yet no sentence is given against him) and also from many other Canons which others think may justly be discharged against him, it will be as lawfull for us, when that Kingdom shall be enough stupified with this our Opium to restore those Canons to their former vigour, and to awake that state out of her Lethargy, either with her own heat, in­testine war, or by some Medi­cine drawn from other places: for Princes have all their secu­rities from our indulgence, and from the slack and gentle inter­pretation of the Canons: they are but priviledges which since they are derived, and receive life from us, they may be by us diminished, revoked and annul­led: for as it was lawfull for Mariana to depart from the doctrin of the Councel of Con­stance, so it was lawfull for Cot­ton to depart from Mariana, which notwithstanding, we [Page 162] would have only lawfull for our Order to whom it is given to know times and secrets of state: for we see the Sorbonists them­selves (which may seem to have an Aristocratical papacy a­mongst themselves) though they laboured to destroy the doctrin of Mariana, did yet wisely for­bear to name him or any other Iesuit, which was a modesty that I did not hope for at their hands; since before I died they made one Decree against me: Gretzer: Examen: speculi fol: 139. but yet therein I think some­what may be attributed to my patience and providence; who knowing their strength and our own infancy, forbad all of my Order to make any answer to that Decree of theirs: neither were we so Herculean as to of­fer to strangle Serpents in our cradle. But yet since after that time they have been often pro­voked by our men: (for I gave not so Iron a Rule and Precepts to my Disciple as Francis did to his, who would not have his [Page 163] Rule applyed to times & to new occasions) certainly they might have bin excused if they had bin at this time sharper against us. And if the Parliament of Paris thought it not fit to carry the matter so modestly in their Ar­rest against Mariana, but made both the Book and the Doctrin, and the Man infamous: what should we say more of it, but that it is a Gyant and a wilde beast which our men could ne­ver tame, for still it cries and howles, The Pope is bound L'eschuf­fier, f: 25. Id: fol: 32. to proceed lawfully and Canoni­cally: and this they maliciously interpret of their own Laws, and of ancient Canons, which they hope to bring in to use again, by an insensible way of Arrest and Sentences in that Court. This then is the point of which we accuse Machiavell, that he car­ried not his Myne so safely but that the enemie perceived it still. But we who have received the Church to be as a ship, do free­ly sail in the deep sea; we have [Page 164] an Ancor, but we have not cast it yet, but keep it ever in our power to cast it and weigh it at our pleasure. And we know well enough that as to sailing ships, so to our sailing Church, all rocks, all promon­tories, all firm and fast places are dangerous, and threaten shipwrack, and therefore to be avoided; and liberty and sea­room to be affected; yet I do not obstinately say that there is nothing in Machiavels Com­mentary which may be of use to this Church. Certainly there is very much; but we are not men of that poverty that we need beg from others, nor dig­nifie those things with our praises which proceed not from our selves. The Senate of Rome gave us heretofore a no­ble example of this temperance and abstinence, which therefore refused to place Christ amongst their gods, because the matter was proposed by the Emperor, and begun not in themselves. [Page 165] As for that Particular wherein Machiavel useth especially to glory; which is that he brought in the liberty of dissembling and lying, it hath neither foun­dation nor colour: For not on­ly Plato and other fashioners of Commonwealths, allowed the li­berty of lying to Magistrates Observat: in Cassia­num, fol: 736. ex collat: 19. and to Physitians; but we also considering the Fathers of the Church, Origen, Chrysostome, Hierome, have not only found that Doctrin in them, but we have also delivered them from al imputation and reprehension by this evasion, That it was lawfull for them to maintain that opinion till some definition of the Church had established the contrary: Which certainly (though this should not be so openly spoken of) as yet was never done. But yet we have departed from this doctrin of free lying, though it were received in practice, excused by the Fathers, strengthened by examples of Prophets and An­gels in the Scriptures, and so al­most [Page 166] established by the Law of Nations and Nature; only for this reason, because we were not the first Authors of it. But we have supplied this loss with another doctrin less suspicious; and yet of as much use for our Church; which is Mentall reser­vation, and Mixt propositions. The liberty therefore of lying is neither new nor safe, as almost all Machiavels precepts are so stale and obsolete, that our Se­rarius using I must confess, his Jesuiticall liberty of wilde anti­cipation, Triha [...]es lib: 2. c: 4. did not doubt to call Herod who lived so long before Machiavel, a Machiavelian. But that at one blow we may cut off all his reasons and all his hopes, this I affirm, this I pro­nounce, That all his books and all his deeds tend only to this, that thereby a way may be pre­pared to the ruine and destructi­on of that part of this kingdom which is established at Rome: for what else doth he endeavor or go about, but to change the [Page 167] forme of Common-wealth, and so to deprive the people (who are a soft, a liquid, and ductile mettall, and apter for our impressions) of all their liberty, and having so destroy­ed all civility and re-publick, to reduce all States to Monar­chies; a name which in secular States, we doe so much abhor, De la messe, fol: 358. (I cannot say it without teares) but I must say it, that not any one Monarch is to be found, which either hath not with­drawn himselfe wholly from our kingdome, or wounded and en­damaged in som weighty point; hereupon our Cotton confesseth, that the authority of the Pope is incomparably lesse then it was, and that now the Christian Church, (which can agree to none but the Romans) is but a diminutive. And hereupon al­so it is, that the Cardinalls, who were wont to meet oftener, meet now but once in a week, Synta. Tholos: lib 15. c: 4. v: 7. because the businesses of the Court of Rome grow fewer. To [Page 168] forbeare therefore mentioning of the Kings of Britain & Den­marke, and the other Monarchs of the first sort, which have ut­terly cast off Rome; even in France, our enemies are so much encreased that they equall us al­most in number: and for their strength, they have this advan­tage above us, that they agree within themselves and are at u­nity with their neighbour Re­formed Churches; whereas our men which call themselves Cha­tholick there, do so much differ from the Roman Catholick that they do not only prefer Coun­cels, but even the King before the Pope, and ever more op­pose those their two great Giants Gog, and Magog, their Parlia­ment of Paris, and their Col­ledge of Sorbon, against all our endeavours. Besides all this, we languish also miserably in Spain, where Clergy-men, if they Scap: de Iure non script: l. 1. c: 6. Ibid: c: 16 break their fealty to their Lord, are accused of treason; where Ecclesiasticall persons are subject [Page 169] to secular judgment and, if they Ibid. c. 25 [...]e sa [...]rilegious, are burnt by the Ordinary Magistrate; which are doctrines and practices, contrary and dangerous to us. And though they will seem to have given almost half the Kingdom to the Church, and so to have divided equally: yet those Grants are so infected, with pensions and other burdens by which the Kings servants, [...] the younger sorts of great per­sons are maintained, that this greatness of the Church there, is rather a dropsie then a sound state of health established by well-concocted nourishment, and is rather don to cast an envy upon the Church, then to give any true majesty to it. And even in usurping Ecclesiasticall Iurisdiction; the Kings of Spain have not only exceeded the kings of France, but also of Britany; For (sayes Baronius of that King) there is now risen up De Regno Sicil [...] a new head, a monster and a won­der: He Excommunicates, and [Page 170] he Absolves, And he practiseth this power even against Bishops, and Cordinals. He stops Ap­peals, and he acknowledges no su­periority in the Sea of Rome, but only in case of Prevention: And therefore, the name Monarch, is a hatefull and execrable name to us. Against which, Baroni­us hath thundred with such vio­l [...]e, such [...]ercheffe, and such [...]nesse, that I could hardly, add any thing thereunto, if I should speak (unspeakable Emperor) with thine own tongue for he calls it an A [...]l­terine name, and a Tower of Ba­bel, and threatens destruction to that King (though himself were his subject) except he for, beare the name. In the mean time, he resolves him to be a Ty­rant, and pronounces him to stand yearly excommunicate by the Bulla Coenae. Neither doth he offer to defend himselfe with any other excuse, when a Car­dinall reprehended his fiercenes toward the King then this; An [Page 171] Imperious zeale hath no power to Resp. ad Card. Co­lum. spare God himselfe. And yet he confesseth, that this zeale was kindled by the Popes speciall com­mand, and by his Oath taken, as Cardinall. Neither hath our Bellarmine almost any other cause of advancing Monarchical government so much as he doth, then thereby to remoove all Se­cular men from so great a digni­ty, and to reserve it only to the Church. It was therefore well done of that Rebullus (who now begins to be known in this State) when having surfeted with ca­lumnies against the French Church and her Ministers, he hath dared of late to draw his Pen, and to joyne battell against a most puissant forrain Prince: he did well (I say) and fitly, when he called Bellarmine and Baronius, The Sword and Buck­ler Salmo­nees. of the Roman Church. And I cannot choose but thanke him for affoording the Title of Sword to our Order; as well, because after so many Expositions of [Page 172] those words, (Behold, heer are two swords) which our side hath gathered, to establish a tempo­rall Jurisdiction in the Pope, and which our Adversaries have re­mooved, worn out, or scorned, this man hath relieved us with a new, and may seem to intend by the two swords, the Popes Excom­munications, and the Iesuites As­sassinates, and King-killings; as also because he hath reserved to our Order that soveraigne digni­ty, that as God himselfe was pleased, to defend his Paradice with fire and sword, so we stand watchfull upon the borders of our Church not only provided, as that Cherubin was with fire and sword, but with the later In­vention of Gunpouder; about the first inventour whereof I won­der, why Antiquaries should contend, whether it were the Devil or a Fryer, since that may be all one. But as (O unspea­kable Emperour) you have al­most in all things indeavoured to imitate God: so have you most throughly performed it in [Page 173] us; for when God attempted the Reformation of his Church, it became you also to reforme yours. And accordingly by your Capuchins, you did reform your Franciscans, which before we arose, were your chiefest Labou­rers and Workmen: and after, you reformed your Capuchins, by your Recolets. And when you perceived that in the Church God, some men proceeded so farre in that Reformation, that they endeavoured to draw out, not onely all the peccant and dangerous humours, but all her beauty, and extorior grace and ornament, and even her vitall spirits with her cor­rupt blood, and so induce a leannesse and ill-favourednesse upon her, and thought to cure a rigid coldness with a Fever; you also were pleased to follow that Hypocr: l. 4. Aphor. 57. example, and so in us did reform and awaken to higher enter­prises the dispositions as well of the Circumcellions as of the As­sassins: for we do not limit our [Page 174] selves in that low degree of the Circumcellions, when we urge and provoke others to put us to death; not of the Assassins, which were hired to kill some Kings which passed through their quarter: so we exceed them both, because we do these things voluntarily for nothing, and every where. And as we will be exceeded by none in the thing itselfe: so to such things as may seem mysticall and signi­ficant, we oppose mysticall things. And so lest that Canon; That no Clergy-man should wear Garrauca stat. Sy­nod. N. 41 a knife with a point, might seem to concern us, by some prophe­ticall relation, we in our Rules have opposed this precept, That our knife be often whetted, and so kept in an apt readiness for all Regul. Ie­suit. cap. praefect. Refector. uses: for our divination lies in the contemplation of entrails; in which, Art we are thus much more subtile then those amongst the old Romans, that we consi­der not the entrails of Beasts, but the entrails of Souls, in con­fessions, [Page 175] and the E [...]trails of Princes in treasons whose hearts we doe not beleeve to be with us till we see them: let therfore this pratling Secretary hold his tongue, and be content that his Book be had in such reputation as the world affords to an Ephe­merider or yearly Almanack, which being accommodated to certain places and certain times, may be of some short use in some certain place and let the Ru [...]s and [...] of his Disci­ples like the Canons of Provin­ciall Councels, be of force there where they were made; but on­ly ours which pierce and passe through all: the world, retai [...] the strength and vigo [...] of Uni­versall Councels. Let him enjoy some honorable place amongst the Gentiles; but abstain from all of our sides: neither when I say, Ou [...]side, doe I onely mean modern men: for in all times in the Roman Church there have been Friers which have farre ex ceeded Machiavel.

[Page 176] Truly I thought this Oration of Ignatius very long: and I be­gan to think of my body which I had so long abandoned, lest it should putrifie, or grow mouldy, or be buried; yet I was loath to leave the Stage till I saw the Play ended. And I was in hope that if any such thing should befall my body, the Jesuits, who work Mi­racles so familiarly, and whose re­putation I was so carefull of in this matter, would take compas­sion upon me, and restore me a­gain. But as I had sometimes ob­served,

Feathers or strawes swim on the watersface,
Brought to the Bridge, where through a narrow place
The water passes, thrown back, and delay'd;
And having danc'd awhile, and nimbly plaid
Upon the watry circles, Then have bin
By the streams liquid snares, and jaws suck'd in,
And sunk into the womb of that swoln bourn,
[Page 177] Leave the beholder desperate of return:

So I saw Machiavel often put forward, and often thrust back, and at last vanish. And looking earnestly upon Lucifers counte­nance, I perceived him to be affected towards Ignatius, as Princes, who though they envy and grudge that their great Offi­cers should have such immode­rate means to get wealth; yet they dare not complain of it, lest thereby they should make them odious and contemptible to the people: so that Lucifer now suf­fered a new Hell: that is, the dan­ger of a Popular Devill, vain­glorious, and inclined to Innova­tions there. Therefore he deter­mined to withdraw himselfe into his inward chamber and to admit none but Ignatius: for he could not exclude him who had deser­ved so well; neither did he think it safe to stay without, and give him more occasions to amplifie his own worth, and undervalue all: them there in publick, and [Page 178] before so many vulgar Devils. But as he rose, a whole Army of souls besieged him. And all which had invented any new thing, even in the smallest matters, thronged about him; and importuned an admission. Even those which had but invented new attire for wo­men and those whom Pancirollo hath recorded in his Commenta­ries De rebus [...]uper in­ventis. for invention of Porcellan Dishes, of Spectacles, of Quintans, of Stirrups, and of Cavi [...]ri, thrust themselves into the troop. And of those which pretended that they had squared the Circle, the number was infinite. But Ig­natius scattered all this cloud quickly by commanding, by chi­ding, by deriding, by force and violence. Amongst the rest, I was sorry to see him use Peter A­retine so ill as he did: For though Ignatius told him true when he boasted of his licentious pictures, that because he was not much learned, he had left out many things of that kind, with which the ancient Histories and Poems [Page 179] abound: and that therefore A­reti [...] had not onely not added any new invention, but had also, taken away all courage and spu [...] from youth, which would rashly trust and nely upon his dillgence, and seek no further, and so lose that [...] on [...] preti [...] [...] suoe of [...]quity. He [...]ed moreove [...], that though [...], and others of his Order, did use to gold P [...]ts and other [...] and here I could not [...]huse but wonder, why they have not gel­ [...]ed their [...] Ed [...]on, which in some places hath such obse [...]e Harlay defence des Ie­suit. fol. 12. words as the Hebrew [...]gne, which is therfore also called [...], doth so much ahhor, that [...] [...] things can be [...]ed in it, info [...]uch [...] (as one of them very sub [...]y notes) the [...] of Venus is very seldome called [...]hy that name in [...] for how could [...] wood being not in [...] yet (said h [...]) [...] men doe not g [...]ld them to that p [...]r­pose that the memory thereof should he abolished: but that [Page 180] when themselves had first tried whether Tyberius his Spintria, and Martialis Symphlegma, and others of that kinde, were not rather Chymera's, and speculati­ons of luxuriant wits, then things certain and constant, and such as might b [...]educed to an Art and method in licentiousnesse, (for Jesuits never content themselves with the Theory in any thing, but straight proceed to practice) they might after communicate them to their own Disciples and Novi­tiates: for this Church is fruitful in producing Sacraments and be­ing now loaded with divine sacra­ments, it produces Morall Sacra­ments. In which, as in the Di­vine, it binds the Laity to one Species; but they reserve to themselves the divers forms, and the secrets and mysteries in this matter, which they finde in the Authors whom they geld. Of which kinde I think they give a little glimmering and intimation, when in the life of their last made Coddesse, Francisc [...] Romane, they [Page 181] say, That the Bed where she lay Valla-der fol. 24. with her Hisband, was a perpetual Martyrdome to her, and a shop of miracles. But for all this, since Aretine was one, who by a long custome of libellous and contu­melious speaking against Princes, had got such a habit, that at last he came to diminish and dis­esteem God himselfe. I wonder truly, that this Arch-Iesuite, though he would not admit him to any eminent place in his Tri­umphant Church, should deny him an office of lower estimati­on: For truly to my thinking he might have been fit, either to serve Ignatius, as Master of his pleasures, or Lucifer as his Cry­er: for whatsoever Lucifer durst think, this man durst speak. But Ignatius, who thought himselfe sufficient for all uses, thrust him away, and when he offered up­ward, offered his staffe at him: Nor did he use Christopher Co­lumbus with any better respect; who having found all ways in the earth and sea open to him, did [Page 182] not fear any difficulty in Hell, but when he offered to enter Ig­natius staid him, and said, ‘You must remember sir, that if this kingdom have got any thing by the discovery of the West Indies, Matalius Metellus, praefat. in Osorium. all that must be attributed to our Order: for if the opinion of the Dom [...]eans had prevailed, That the Inhabitants should be reduced only by preaching and without violence, certainly their 200000 of men would scarce in so many ages have been brought to 150 which by our means was so soon performed. And if the Law made by Ferdinando only against Canibals; That all which would not be Christians should be bond slaves, had not been exten­ded into other Provinees, we should have lacked men to dig us out that benefit which their Countreys afford. Except we when we took away their old Idolatry, had recompenced them with a new one of o [...], except we had obtruded to those ignorant and barbarous people, [Page 183] sometimes natural things, some­times artificial, and counterfeit in stead of miracles, and except we had been alwaies ready to convey and to apply this Medi­cine made of this precious A­merican dung unto the Princes of Europe, and their Lord, and Councellours, the profit by the only discovery of these places (which must of necessity be re­ferred to fortune) would have been very [...]le; yet I praise your perseverance and your pa­tience which (since that seems to be your principal vertue) you shall have good occasion to exercise here, when you remain in a lower and remote [...] place, then you think belongs to your merits.’ But although Lucifer being put into a heat and almost smothered with this troop and deluge of pretenders, seemed to have admitted Ignatius as his Lieatenant, or Legat [...]ere, and trusted him with an absolute power of doing what he would, yet he quickly spied his own er­ror [Page 184] and danger thereby. He be­gan to remember how forcibly they use to urge the Canon Alius; by which the King of France is said to have been deposed, not for his wickedness, but for his Paris de puteo, de syndicat. de excess. regn. infirmity and unfitness to govern: and that Kings do forfeit their dignity if they give themselves to other matters, and leave the go­vernment of the State to their Officers. Therefore Lucifer thought it time for him to enter into the business, lest at last Ig­natius should prescribe therein; by which title of prescription he well knew, how much the Church of Rome doth advance and defend itself against other Princes. And though he seemed very thankfull to Ignatius for his delivery from this importunate company, yet when he perceived that his pur­pose was to keep al others out, he thought the case needed greater confideration; For though he had a considence in his own Patriarks Sophro­nius cap. 45. Con­se [...]uerat. which had long before possest that place, and in whose compa­ny [Page 185] (as an Abbot said to the De­vil, who after long intermission, now tempted him) he was grown old, and doubted not but that they would defend their right, and oppose themselvs against any innovation which Ignatius should practise, yet if none but he in a whole age should be brought in, he was afraid that this singulari­ty would both increase his cou­rage and spirit, and their reve­rence and respect towards him. Casting therefore his eyes into e­very corner, at last a great way off he spied Philip Nerius: who acknowledging in his own parti­cular no especial merit towards this kingdom, forbore to press nearer the gate, but Lucifer called to his remembrance, that Nerius and all that Order, of which he was the Author, which is called Congregatio Oratorii, were erected, advanced, and dig­nified by the Pope, principally to this end, that by their incessant Sermons to the people, of the lives of Saints, and other Ecclesi­astick [Page 186] Antiquities, they might get a new reputation, and so the torrent, and general superstition towards the Iesuits might grow a little remisser, and Iuke-warm, for at that time the Pope him­self began to be afraid of the Je­suits, for they begun to publish their Paradox of Confession and absolution to be given by letters, and Messengers, and by that means to draw the secrets of all Princes only to themselves; And they had tryed and sollicited a great Monarch who hath many designes upon Italy against the Pope and delivered to that Prince divers Articles, for the reforming of him. Now the Pope and Lu­cifer love ever to follow one ano­thers example: And therefore that which the one had done in the middle world, the other at­tempted in the lower. Hereup­on he called for Philip, Nerius, and gave him many evidenoes of a good inclination towards him. But Nerius was too stupid to in­terpret them aright. Yet Igna­tius [Page 187] spied them, and before Luci­fer should declare himself any further, or proceed too farr here­in, lest after he were farengaged, there should be no way to avert or withdraw him from his own propositions (for he saw there must be respect had of his honor and constancy) he thought it fit­test to oppose now at the begin­ning. He said therefore, that ‘he now perceived that Lucifer had not been altogether so much conversant with Philip, as with the [...]esuirs, since he knew not how much Philip had ever professed himself an enemy to him Vita Nerii-fol. 107. For he did not only deny all visions and apparitions, Fol. 108. and commanded one to spit in Maries face when she appear­ed again, because he thought it was the Devil; Fol. 212. And drove away another that came to tempt a sick man, in the shape of a Physitian; Fol. 229. and was hardly drawn to believe any pos­sessings; but Fol. 19. when three Devils did meet him in the way, [Page 188] to afright him, he neither thought them worthy of any Exorcismes, nor so much as the signe of the Cross, but meerly went by them, as though he scorn'd to look at them, and so despighted them with that neg­ligence. It may be that he hath drawn others into Religion, but himself remained then in the Laity; in so much as I remem­ber, that Fol. 26. I used to call him The Saints bell, that hangs with­out, and calls others into the Church. Fol. 313. Neither do they which follow this Order, bind themselves with any vow or oath; Neither do I know any thing for which this Fol. 163. king­dom is beholding to him, but that [...] moved Baronius to write his Annals.

To all this Nerius said no­thing, as though it had been spo­ken of some body else. Without doubt, either he never knew, or had forgot that he had done those things which they write of him. But Lucifer himself took [Page 189] the boldness (having with some difficulty got Ignatius leave) to take Nerius his part: and pro­ceeded so far, that he adventured to say, ‘That Baronius, Bozius and others, which proceeded out of the Hive of Nerius, had used a more free, open, and hard fashion against Princes, and better provided for the Popes direct jurisdiction upon all kingdoms, and more stoutly de­fended it than they, which un­dertaking the cause more trem­blingly then becomes the Ma­jestie of so great a business, ad­hered to Bellarmines sect, and devised such crooked ways, and such perplexed intanglings, as by reason of the various and uncertain circumstances, were of no use: And that whatsoe­ver Nerius his Schollers had performed, must be attributed to him, as the fruit to the root.’ Ignatius perceiving that Lucifer undertook all offices for Nerius, and became Judge, Advocate, and Witness, pursuing his former [Page 190] resolution, determined to inter­rupt him lest when he had inlar­ged himself in Nerius commen­dation, he should thereby be bound to a reward. He there­fore cryed out, ‘What hath Nerius done? what hath he or his followers put in execution? have they not ever been only exercised in speculations, and in preparatory doctrins? Are these books which are written of the Jurisdiction of the Pope, to a­ny better use than Physicians Lectures of Diseases, and of Medicines? whilst these Receits lie hid in Physicians books and no body goes to the Patient; no body applyes the Medicines to the Disease. What good, what profit comes by all this? what part, what member of this lan­guishing body have they un­dertaken? In what Kingdome have they corrected these hu­mours which offend the Pope, either by their Incision or cau­terising? what state have they cut up into an Anatomy? what [Page 191] Sceliton on have they provided for the instruction of posterity? Do they hope to cure their diseases by talking and preaching as it were with charms and enchantments? If Nerius shall be thought worthy of this honour, and this place, because out of his Schol­lers writings something may be gleaned, which may be applyed to this purpose, why should we not have Bez [...] and Caloin, and the rest of that sort here in hell, since in their books there may be some things found which may be rested to this purpose? But since their scope was not to extirpate Monarchies, since they published no such Canons and Aphorismes as might be applyed to all ca [...]es, and so brought into certain use and consequence, but limited theirs to circumstances which sel­dome fall out, since they deli­vered nothing dangerous to Princes, but where in their opinion, the Soveraigntie resides in the People, or in cer­tain [Page 192] Ephory, since they never said, that this power to violate the person of a Prince, might ei­ther be taken by any private man, or committed to him, and that therefore none of their Dis­ciples hath ever boasted of hav­ing done any thing upon the person of his Soveraigne: we see that this place hath ever been shut against them: there have bin some few of them (though I can scarce afford those men the honour to number them with Knox and Goodman, and Bucha­nan) which following our ex­amples, have troubled the peace of some States, and been injuri­ous to some Princes, and have been admitted to some place in this Kingdome; but since they have performed nothing with their hands nor can excuse themselves by saying, they were not able: (for wherein was Clement, or Ravillac more a­ble than they, or what is not he able to do in the middes­of an Army, who despiseth [Page 193] his own life? they scarce e­ver aspire, or offer at this se­cret and sacred Chamber. Lu­cifer had a purpose to have re­plied to this: That perchance all their hands which had bin imbrued in the bowells of Prin­ces were not so immediatly ar­med by the Iesuites, as that they were ever present at all consul­tations and resolutions: (and yet he meant to say this, not as sworn witnesse, but as Lucifer himselfe, and the father of lies, in which capacitie he might say any thing.) But that it was e­nough that Confessors doe so possesse them with that doctrine that it is not now proposed to them as Physick, but as naturall food, and ordinary diet; and that therfore for the perfor­mance of these things, a Iesuites person is no more requisite, then that the heart of a man, because it sends forth spirits into every limbe, should therefore be pre­sent in every limbe: that when Brisson d [...] formul. l. 1. it was in use for the Consuls of [Page 194] Rome for the the safety of their Country and army, to devote themselves over to the infernall God, it was lawfull for them­selves to abstain and forbear the Act, and they might appoint any Souldier for that Sacrifice: and that so the Iesuits for the per­formance of their resolutions, might stir up any amongst the people: (for now they enjoy all the priviledges of the Fran­ciscans, who say; That the name Reinsulk Manual. Francis­can cap. 9. of People, comprehends all which are not of their Order;) And that if this be granted, Nerius his Schollers are inferiour to none; with whose bookes (if all the Iesuits should perish) the Church might content her selfe, and never fear dearth nor leane­nesse.’ This Lucifer would have spoken; but he thought it bet­ter and easier to forbeare: for he observed, that Ignatius had given a sign, and that all his troupes which were many, subtile, and bu­sie, set up their bristles, g [...]mbled, and compacted themselves into [Page 195] one body, gathered, produced, and urged all their evidence, whatsoever they had done, or suf­fered. There the English Legion, which was called Capestrata, which Campian led, and (as I thinke) Garnet concluded, was fiercer than all the the rest. And as though there had been such a second Martirdome to have been suffered, or as though they might have put off their Immortallity, they offered themselves to any imployment. Therefore Luci­fer gave Nerius a secret warning to withdraw himself, and spoke no more of him; and despairing of bringing in an other, began earnestly to thinke, how he might leave Ignatius out. This there­fore he said to him: ‘I am sorry my Ignatius, that I can neither find in others, deserts worthy of this place, nor any room in this place worthy of your deserts. If I might die, I see there would be no long strife for a Successor: For if you have not yet done that act which I did at first in [Page 196] Heaven, and thereby got this Empire, this may excuse you, that no man hath been able to tell you what it was: For if any of the Ancients say true when they call it Pride, or Licentious­nesse, or Lying; or if it be in any of the Casuists, which professe the Art of sinning, you cannot be accused of having omitted it. But since I may neither forsake this kingdome, nor divide it, this only remedy is left: I will write to the Bishop of Rome, he shall call Galilaeo the Florentine to him, who by this time bath throughly instructed himselfe of all the Hills, Woods, and Cities in the new world, the Moone. And since he effected so much with his first Glasses, that he saw the Moon in so neer a dis­tance, that he gave himselfe sa­tisfaction of all, and the least parts in her, when now being Nuncius Sydereus. grown to more perfection in his Art, he shall have made new Glasses and they received a hal­lowing from the Pope, he may [Page 197] draw the Moon, like a Boat floa­ting upon the water, as neer the Earth as he will. And thither (because they ever claim that those imployments of discove­ry belong to them) shall all the Iesuits be transferred, and easily unite and reconcile the Lunatick Church to the Roman Church: without doubt, after the Iesu­ites have been there a little while, there will soon grow na­turally a Hell in that world also: over which, you Ignatius shall have dominion, and establish your kingdom and dwelling there. And with the same ease as you passe from the earth to the Moon, you may passe from the Moon to the other stars, which are also thought to be worlds, and so you may beget and propagate many Hels, and enlarge your Empire, and come neerer unto that high seate, which I left at first.’ Ignatius had not the patience to stay till Lucifer had made an end; but as soon as he saw him pause, and [Page 198] take breath, and look, first upon his face, to observe what changes were there, and after to cast his eye to another place in Hell, where a great noyse was suddenly raysed: he apprehended this in­termission, and as though Luci­fer had ended, he said: ‘That of Lucifers affection to the Roman Church, and to their Order, e­very day produced new Testimo­nies: and that this last was to be accounted as one of the grea­test. That he knew well with how great devotion the Bishop of Rome did ever embrace and execute all councels proceding from him: And that therefore he hoped, that he would reserve that imployment for the Iesuits and that Empire for him their founder: and that he beleeved the Pope had thought of this be­fore; and at that time when he put Parsons the English Iesuite in hope of a Cardinalship, he had certainely a reference to this place, and to this Church: That it would fall out shortly, that [Page 199] all the dammages, which the Roman Church hath lately suffe­red upon the earth, shall be re­compenced only there. And that now this refuge was opened if she should be reduced into greater streights, or if she should be utterly exterminated, the world would not much lament and mourne for it. And for the entertainment of the Ie­suites there, there can be no doubt made at this time, when, (although their pro­fession be to enter whether Princes will or no) all the Prin­ces of the World will not only graciously afford them leave to go, but willingly and cheerful­ly accompany them with Cer­tificates, and Demissory letters. nor would they much resist it, if the Pope himself would vouchsafe to go with them, and so fulfill in some small measure, that Prophecie of his Ger­son, De Auferibilitate Papae. Besides this, a woman governs there; of which sex they have [Page 200] ever made their profit, which have attempted any Innovation in religion; with how much diligence were the two Empres­ses, Pulcheria and Eudoxia, so­licited by the Pope for the esta­blishing of Easter? how ear­nestly did both Pelagius and the Pope strive by their letters to draw the Empress to their side? For since Iulia had that honour given to her in publique coyns, that she was called the Mother of the Armie, the Mother of the Gods, and of the Senate, and the Mother of her Countrey: Why may not Women instructed by us, be called Mothers of the Church? Why may not we relye upon the Wit of Women, when once, the Church deliver­ed over her self to a Woman-Bishop? and since we are re­puted so fortunate in obtaining the favour of Women, that Women are forbid to come into e Rog. Ie­suit. f [...]l. 73. lbid. fol. 47. our houses; and we are forbid, to take the charge of any Nunns; since we have had so good ex­perience [Page 201] of their favour [...] in all the Indies, or at least have thought it fit, that they which have the charge to write our anniversarie letters from thence should make that boast, and add something to the truth, both be­cause the ancient Heretiques held that course in insinuating their opinions, and because they which are acquainted with our practices, will think any thing credible, which is written of us in that behalf, why should we doubt of our fortune in this Queen, which is so much sub­ject to alterations and passions? she languishes often in the ab­sence of the Sun, and often in Eclipses falls into swounds, and is at the point of death. In these advantages we must play our parts, and put our devices in practise: for at these times any thing may be drawn from her. Nor must we forbear to try what verses and incantations may work upon her: For in those things which the Poets writ [Page 202] though they themselves did not believe them, we have since found many truths, and many deep mysteries: nor can I call to minde any woman which ei­ther deceived our hope, or esca­ped our cunning, but Elizabeth of England; who might the ra­ther be pardoned that, because she had put off all affections of women. The principal dignity of which sex (which is to be a mother) what reason had she to wish or affect, since without those womanish titles, unwor­thy of her, of wife and mother, such an heir was otherwise pro­vided for her, as was not fit to be kept any longer from the in­heritance. But when I, who hate them, speak thus much in the honour of these two Princes, I finde my self carried with the same fury as those beasts were, which our men say, did some­time adore the Host in the Mass. For it is against my will, that I pay thus much to the Manes of Elizabeth; from scorning of [Page 203] which word Manes, when the King of great Britain writ it, I would our Parsons had forborn, since one of our own Jesuits useth the same word, when re­prehending our adversaries, he saies, That they do insult upon Heissius ad Aphor Iesuit. fol. 135. Garnets Manes. And yet this Elizabeth was not free from all Innovation; For the ancient Religion was so much worn out, that to reduce that to the for­mer dignity, and so to renew it, was a kinde of Innovation: and by this way of Innovating she satisfied the infirmity of her sex, if she suffered any: for a little Innovation might serve her, who was but a little, a woman. Nei­ther dare I say that this was pro­perly an Innovation, lest there­by I should confess, that Luther and many others which live in banishment in Heaven far from us, might have a title to this place, as such Innovators. But we cannot doubt, but that this lunatick Queen will be more in­clinable to our Innovations: for [Page 204] our Clavius hath been long fa­miliarly conversant with her: what she hath done from the beginning, what she will do hereafter, how she behaves her self toward her neighbour king­doms, the rest of the stars, and all the planetary, and firmamen­tary worlds, with whom she is in league and amity, and with whom at difference, he is per­fectly instructed, so he have his Ephemerides about him. But Clavius is too great a personage to be bestowed upon this luna­tick Queen, either as her Coun­celler, or (which were more to our profit) as her Confessor. So great a man must not be cast a­way upon so small a matter. Nor have we any other besides, whom upon any occasion we may send to the Sun, or to the other worlds, beyond the world. Therefore we must reserve Cla­vius for greater uses. Our Herbestus, or Busaus, or Voellus (and these be all which have given any proof of their know­ledg [Page 205] in Mathematicks although they be but tastless, and chil­dish, may serve to observe her aspects and motions, and to make Catechismes fit for this lu­natick Church: for though Gar­net had Clavius for his Master, yet he profited little in the Arts, Eudaem. Ioan. A­pol. pro Garn [...]. c. 5. but being filled with Bellar­mines Dictates, (who was also his Master) his minde was all upon Politicks. When we are established there, this will add much to our dignity, that in our letters which we send down to the earth (except perchance the whole Roman Church come up to us into the Moon) we may write of what miracles we list: which we offered to do out of the Indies, and with good suc­cess, till one of our Order, in Acosta d [...] procur. Ind. Salu l. 2, c. 9. simplicitie, and ingenuity, fitter for a Christian, then a Jesuite, acknowledged and lamented that there were no wiracles done there. Truly it had been better for us to have spit all those five Brothers, Aco­stas, [Page 206] out of our Order, then that a­ny one of them should have vo­mited this reproach against us. It is of such men as these in our Order, that our Gretzer sayes, There is no body without his Ex­crements, De studi­is Iesuit. abstrus. c. 5. because though they speak truth, yet they speak it too rawly. But as for this contem­plation, and the establishing of that government, (though it be a pleasant consideration) we may neither pamper our selves longer with it now, nor de­tain you longer therein. Let your Greatness write, let the Pope execute your counsell, let the Moon approach when you 2 think fit. In the mean time let me use this Chamber as a resting place. For though Pope Grego­rie Bellar. de Purg. l. 2. c. 8. were strucken by the Angell with a perpetuall pain in his sto­mack and feet, because he com­pelled God by his prayers to deliver Trajan out of Hell, and transferre him to Heaven, and therefore God, by the mouth of Gregorie took an assurance for [Page 207] all his Successors, that they should never dare to request the like again: yet when the Pope shall call me back from hence, he can be in no danger, both be­cause in this contract God can­not bee presumed to have thought of me, since I never thought of him, and so the contract therein voyd; and be­cause the condition is not bro­ken, if I be not removed into Heaven, but transferred from an earthly Hell to a Lunatique Hell. More then this he could not be heard to speak: For that noyse, of which I spoke before, increased exceedingly, and when Lucifer asked the cause, it was told him, That there was a soule newly arrived in Hell, which said, that the Pope was at last in­treated to make Ignatius a Saint, and that he hastened his Cano­nization, as thinking it an un­just thing, that when all Artifi­cers and prophane Butchers had particular Saints to invocate, onely these spirituall Butchers, [Page 208] and King-killers, should have none.’ For when the Jesuit Cot­ton in those questions which by vertue of his invisible priviledge he had provided for a possest per­son, amongst others, dangerous both to England and France, had inserted this question: What shall I doe for Ignatius his canonizing? and found at last, that Philip King of Spain, and Henry King of France, contended by their Am­bassadors at Rome, which of them should have the honour of obtai­ning his canonizing (for both pretending to be King of Na­varre, both pretended that this right and honour belonged to him; and so both deluded the Je­suits:) For D Alcala a Fran­ciscan, and Penafort a Iacobite, Pierre Mathier i. l. 1. Nar. 4 were by Philips means canonized, and the Jesuite left out. At last he despaired of having any assi­stance from these Princes; nor did he think it convenient that a Jesuit should be so much behol­ding Litera ejus ad Philip. 3. to a King▪ since Baronius was already come to that height [Page 209] and constancy, that being accused of som wrongs done to his King, he did not vouchsafe to write in his own excuse to the King, till the Conclave which was then held, was fully ended, lest (as himselfe gives the reason) if he had then been chosen Pope, it should be thought he had been beholden to the King therein. For these reasons therfore they labour the Pope themselves. They confess, that if they might chuse, they had rather he should restore them into all which they had lost in France and Venice, then that Ignatius should be sent up into Heaven; and that the Pope was rather bound to doe so, by the Order which God himselfe seems to have observed in the Creation where he first furnished the Earth, and then the Heavens, Gen. 2. 4. and confirmed himselfe to be the Israeiltes God by this Argument, that he had given them the Land of Canaan and other temporall blessings. But since this exceeded Gen. 17. 8. the Popes omnipotence in earth; [Page 210] it was fit he should try what he could doe in Heaven. Now the Pope would fain have satisfied them with the Title of Beatus, which formerly upon the intrea­ty of the Princes of that Family he had afforded to Aloisius Gon­zaga Vita ejus Epist. ad Paul. 5. of that Order. He would al­so have given this Title of Saint rather to Xaverius, who had the reputation of having done Mi­racles. Indeed he would have done any thing, so he might have slipped over Ignatius. But at last he is overcome; and so against the will of Heaven, and of the Pope, Lucifer himselfe being not very forward in it, Ignatius must be thrust in amongst the Saints. All this Discourse, I, being grown cunninger then that Doctor, Ga­briel Nele (of whom Bartolus L. 1. de ve [...]blig. speaketh) that by the onely mo­tion of his lips, without any ut­terance, understood all men, per­ceived and read in every mans countenance there. These things as soon as Lucifer apprehended them, gave an end to the conten­tion: [Page 211] For now he thought he might no longer doubt nor dis­pute of Ignatius his admission, who, besides his former preten­ces, had now gotten a new right and Title to the place by his Ca­nonization; and he feared that the Pope would take all delay ill at his hands, because Canonization is now grown a kind of Declara­tion, by which all men may take knowledge, that such a one to whom the Church of Rome is much beholden, is now made partaker of the principall digni­ties and places in Hell: For these men ever make as though they would follow Augustine in all things, and therfore they provide that that also shall be true which he said in this point, That the Re­liques of many are honoured upon earth, whose souls are tormented in Hell. Therefore he took Ignatius by the hand, and led him to the Gate. In the mean time, I, which doubted of the truth of this Re­port of his Canonizing, went a little out for further instruction: [Page 212] for I thought it scarce credible, that Paulus Quintus, who had but lately burdened both the Citie of Rome, and the Church, with so great expences, when he canoni­zed Francisca Romana, would so easily proceed to canonize Igna­tius now, when neither any Prince offered to bear the charge, nor so much as sollicited it: for so he must be focred to wast both the Treasures of the Church at once. And from Leo 3. who 800 years after Christ, is the first Pope which canonized any, I had not obser­ved that this had ever been done: Neither doe I think that Paulus Quintus was drawn to the ca­nonizing of this woman by any other respect, then because that Rule which she appointed to her Order, was dictated and written by Valade. eius fol. 57. S. Paul: For though Peter and Magdalen, and others, were pre­sent at the writing thereof, as witnesses, yet Paul was the Au­thor thereof. And since St Pauls old Epistles trouble and disad­vantage this Church, they were [Page 213] glad to apprehend any thing of his new writing which might be for them, that so this new work of his might bear witness of his se­cond conversion to Papistry, since by his first conversion to Christia­nity, they got nothing: for to say that in this business Paulus Quintus could not chuse but be God, God himselfe to say that he must needs have lived familiarly with the Godhead: and must have heard Predestination it self whispe­ring to him: and must have had a place to sit in Councell with the most Divine Trinity, (all which Fol. 5. Valaderius sayes of him, is not ne­cessary in this matter, wherein the Popes for the most part proceed, as humane affections lead them. But at last, after some enquiry, I found that a certain idle Gazet­tior, which used to scrape up newes and rumors at Rome, and so to make up sale letters, vainer & falser then the Iesuits letter of Iapan and the Indies, had brought this newes to Hell, and a little Ie­suiticall Novice, a credulous soul, [Page 214] received it by his implicit faith, and published it. I laughed at Lucifers easinesse to beleeve, and I saw no reason ever after, to ac­cuse him of infidelity. Upon this I came back again, to spy (if the gates were still open) with what affection Ignatius, and they who were in ancient possession of that place, behaved themselves towards one another. And I found him yet in the porch, and there beginning a new contenti­on: for having presently cast his eyes to the principal place, next to Lucifers owne Throne; and finding it possest he stopt Luci­fer, and asked him who it was that sate there. It was answered that it was Pope Boniface: to whom▪ as to a principal Innova­tor, for having first challenged the name of Universal Bishop, that honour was afforded. Is he an Innovator thundred Ignatius? shall I suffer this, when all my disciples have laboured all this while to prove to the world, that all the Popes before his time did [Page 215] use that name? and that Gregory did not reprehend the Patriarch Iohn for taking to himself an An­tichristian name, but for usurping a name which was due to none but the Pope. And could it be fit for you, Lucifer (who in this were either unmindfull of the Roman Church, or else too weak and incapable of her secrets and mysteries) to give way to any fentence in Hell, which (though it were according to truth) yet differed from the Iesuits Oracles? With this Ignatius flyes upwards, and rushes upon Boniface, and throwes him out of his Seat: and Lucifer went up with him as fast, and gave him assistance, lest, if he should forsake him, his own Seat might be indangered. And I returned to my body; which

As a flower wet with last nights dew, and then
Warm'd with the new Sun, doth shake off agen
All drowsiness, and raise his trem­bling Crown,
Which crookedly did languish, and stoop down
[Page 216] To kiss the earth, and panted now to finde
Those beams return'd, which had not long time shin'd.

was with this return of my soul sufficiently refreshed. And when I had seen all this, and consider'd how fitly and proportionally Rome and Hell answered one ano­ther, after I had seen a Iesuit turn the Pope out of his Chair in Hell, I suspected that that Order would attempt as much at Rome.

An Apology for Iesuits.

NOw it is time to come to the Apologie for Ie­suits: that is, it is time to leave speaking of them, for he favours them most, which says least of them; Nor can any man, though he had de­claimed against them till all the sand of the sea were run through his hour-glass, lack matter to add of their pra­ctises. If any man have a minde to add any thing to this Apologie, he hath my leave; and I have therefore left room for three or four [Page 218] lines, which is enough for such a paradox; and more than Iungius, Scribanius, Gretzerus, Richeomus, Cydoni­us, and all the rest which are used to Apologies, and almost tired with a defensive war, are able to employ, if they will write only good things, and Bonar. in Ampbitb. true, of the Iesuits. Neither can they comfort themselves with this, That Cato was cal­led to his answer four and for­ty times: for he was so many times acquitted, which both the Parliaments of England and France deny of the Ie­suits. But if any man think this Apology too short, he may think the whole book an Apologie, by this rule of their own, That it is their greatest argument of innocency to be accused by us. At this time, whilst they are yet somewhat [Page 219] able to do some harm in some places, let them make much of this Apologie. It will come to pass shortly, when as they have bin dispoyled and expelled at Venice, and shaked and fanned in France, so they will be forsaken of o­ther Princes, and then their own weakness will be their Apologie, and they will grow harmless out of necessity, and that which Vegetius said Lib. 1. c. 14. of Chariots armed with sithes ond hooks, will be ap­plyed to the Jesuits, at first they were a terror, and after a scorn.

FINIS.

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