The Arte of Rhetorique
Thomas Wilson
Introduction | Book I | Book II |
Book III
Note on the e-text: this
Renascence Editions text was transcribed by Judy Boss, Omaha, NE, 1998, from
Wilson's Arte of Rhetorique 1560. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1909. Ed. G. H. Mair.
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The arte of Rhetorique.
What is Rhetorique.
Hetorique is an Arte to set foorth by
vtteraunce of
words,
matter at large, or (as Cicero doth say) it is a learned, or
rather an artificiall declaration of the mynd, in the handling
of any cause, called in contention, that may through reason
largely be discussed.
¶ The matter whereupon an
Oratour must speake.
| Rhetorique occupied |
| about all lawes, |
| concerning man. |
AN Orator must be able to speake fully of al those questions,
which by lawe & mans ordinance are enacted, and
appointed for the vse and profite of man, such as are thought
apt for the tongue to set forwarde. Nowe Astronomie is
rather learned by demonstration, then taught by any great
vtterance. Arithmetique smally needeth the vse of Eloquence,
seeing it may be had wholy by nombring only. Geometrie
rather asketh a good square, then a cleane flowing tongue to
set out the art. Therefore an Orators profession, is to speake
only of all such matters, as may largely be expounded for
mans behoue, and may with much grace be set out, for all
men to heare them.
¶ Of questions.
EVery question or demaund in things, is of two sortes.
Either it is an infinite question, & without end, or els
it is definite, and comprehended within some ende.
Those questions are called infinite, which generally are
propounded, without the comprehension of tyme, place, and
persone, or any such like: that is to say, when no certaine
thing is named, but onely words are generally spoken. As
thus, whether it be best to marrie, or to liue single. Which
is better, a courtiers life, or a Scholers life.
Those questions are called definite, which set forth a matter,
with the appointment and naming of place, time, and person.
As thus. Whether now it be best here in Englande, for a
Priest to Marrie, or to liue single. Whether it were meete
for the kings Maiestie that nowe is, to marrie with a stranger,
or to marrie with one of his owne Subiects. Now the definite
| Questions definite, belong |
| properly to an Orator. |
question (as the which concerneth some one person) is most
agreeing to the purpose of an Orator, considering particuler
matters in the law, are euer debated betwixt certaine persons,
the one affirming for his parte, and the other denying as fast
againe for his parte.
Thinges generally spoken without all circumstaunces, are
more proper vnto the Logician, who talketh of thinges vniuersally,
| Questions infinite, |
| proper vnto |
| Logicians. |
without respect of person, time, or place. And yet
notwithstanding, Tullie doth say, that whosoeuer will talke of
particuler matter must remember, that within the same also
is comprehended a generall. As for example. If I shall aske
this question, whether it bee lawfull for William Conquerour
to inuade England, and win it by force of Armour, I must
also consider this, whether it bee lawfull for any man to
vsurpe power, or it bee not lawful. That if the greater
cannot be borne withall, the lesse can not bee neither. And
in this respect, a generall question agreeth well to an Orators
profession, and ought well to bee knowne for the better
furtheraunce of his matter, notwithstanding the particuler
question is euer called in controuersie, and the generall only
thereupon considered, to comprehend and compasse the same,
as the which is more generall.
¶ The ende of Rhetorique.
Three thinges are required of an Orator.
| Orators bound |
| to performe |
| three thinges. |
| {To teach. |
| {To delight. |
| {And to perswade. |
FIrst therefore, an Orator must labour to tell his tale,
that the hearers may well knowe what he meaneth, and
vnderstand him wholy, the which he shall with ease vse, if he
| Plaine words |
| proper vnto |
| an Orator. |
vtter his minde in plaine words, such as are vsually receiued,
and tell it orderly, without going about the bush. That if he
doe not this, he shall neuer doe the other. For what man
can be delited, or yet be perswaded with the only hearing of
those thinges, which he knoweth not what they meane. The
tongue is ordeined to expresse the minde, that one may
vnderstand an others meaning: now what auaileth to speake,
when none can tell what the speaker meaneth? Therefore
Phauorinus the Philosopher (as Gellius telleth the tale) did hit
a yong man ouer the Thumbes very handsomely, for vsing ouer
old, and ouer straunge wordes. Sirha (quoth he) when our olde
great auncesters and Graundsires were aliue, they spake
plainly in their mothers tongue, and vsed olde language, such
| A Philosophers |
| wittie saying to a |
| yong man that |
| sought to speake |
| dark language. |
as was spoken then at the building of Roome. But you talke
me such a Latine, as though you spake with them euen now,
that were two or three thousand yeres agoe, and onely
because you would haue no man to vnderstand what you say.
Now, were it not better for thee a thousande fold, (thou foolish
fellowe) in seeking to haue thy desire, to holde thy peace, and
speake nothing at all? For then by that meanes, fewe should
knowe what were thy meaning. But thou saiest, the olde
antiquitie doth like thee best, because it is good, sober, and
modest. Ah, liue man, as they did before thee, and speake
thy mind now as men doe at this day. And remember that
which Cæsar saieth, beware as long as thou liuest of straunge
wordes, as thou wouldest take heede and eschue great Rockes
in the Sea.
The next part that he hath to play, is to chere his geastes,
and to make them take pleasure, with hearing of thinges
| Orators must vse delitefull |
| wordes and sayinges. |
wittely deuised, and pleasauntly set foorth. Therefore euery
Orator should earnestly labour to file his tongue, that his
words may slide with ease, and that in his deliueraunce he
may have such grace, as the sound of a Lute, or any such
Instrument doth giue. Then his sentences must be wel
framed, and his words aptly vsed, through the whole discourse
of his Oration.
Thirdly, such quicknesse of witte must bee shewed, and such
pleasaunt sawes so well applied, that the eares may finde
much delite, whereof I will speake largely, when I shall
intreate of mouing laughter. And assuredly nothing is more
needfull, then to quicken these heauie loden wittes of ours,
| Preachers not so diligently |
| heard as common Players. |
and much to cherish these our lompish and vnweldie Natures,
for except men finde delite, they will not long abide: delite
them, and winne them: wearie them, and you lose them for
euer. And that is the reason, that men commonly tarie the
ende of a merie Play, and cannot abide the halfe hearing of
a sower checking Sermon. Therefore euen these auncient
Preachers, must now and then play the fooles in the pulpit, to
serue the tickle eares of their fleting audience, or els they are
like sometimes to preach to the bare walles, for though their
spirite bee apt, and our will prone, yet our flesh is so heauie,
and humours so ouerwhelme vs, that we cannot without
| Preachers must sometimes be |
| mery when they speake |
| to the people. |
| Deliting needful. |
| Scurrilitie odious. |
| Affections must be moued. |
refreshing, long abide to heare any one thing. Thus we see,
that to delite is needfull, without the which weightie matters
will not be heard at all, and therefore him cunne I thanke,
that both can and will ever, mingle sweete among the sower,
be he Preacher, Lawyer, yea, or Cooke either hardly, when
hee dresseth a good dish of meate: now I need not to tell
that scurrilitie, or ale-house iesting, would bee thought odious,
or grosse mirth would be deemed madnesse: considering that
euen the meane witted do knowe that alreadie, and as for
other that haue no wit, they will neuer learne it, therfore
God speede them. Now when these two are done, hee must
perswade, and moue the affections of his hearers in such wise,
that they shalbe forced to yeeld vnto his saying, whereof
(because the matter is large, and may more aptly be declared,
when I shall speake of Amplification) I will surcease to speake
any thing thereof at this tyme.
¶ By what meanes Eloquence
is attained.
FIrst needfull it is that hee, which desireth to excell in this
gift of Oratorie, and longeth to proue an eloquent man,
must naturally haue a wit, and an aptnesse thereunto: then
must he to his Booke, and learne to bee well stored with
knowledge, that he may be able to minister matter for al
causes necessarie. The which when he hath got plentifully,
he must vse much exercise, both in writing, and also in
speaking. For though hee haue a wit and learning together,
| Practise maketh |
| al things perfect. |
yet shall they both little auaile without much practise. What
maketh the Lawyer to haue such utteraunce? Practise. What
maketh the Preacher to speake so roundly? Practise. Yea,
what maketh women goe so fast awaye with their wordes?
Mary practise I warrant you. Therefore in all faculties,
diligent practise, and earnest exercise, are the onely things
that make men proue excellent. Many men know the art very
well, and be in all points throughly grounded and acquainted
with the precepts, & yet it is not their hap to proue eloquent.
And the reason is, that eloquence it selfe, came not vp first
by the art, but the arte rather was gathered vpon eloquence.
For wisemen seeing by much obseruation and diligent practise,
| Rhetorique first made by wise |
| men, and not wisemen |
| first made by Rhetorique. |
the compasse of diuers causes, compiled thereupon precepts
and lessons, worthy to be knowne and learned of all men.
Therefore before arte was inuented, eloquence was vsed, and
through practise made perfect, the which in all things is
a soueraigne meane, most highly to excell.
Now, before we vse either to write, or speake eloquently,
wee must dedicate our myndes wholy, to followe the most
wise and learned men, and seeke to fashion as wel their
| Imitation or following the |
| waies of wisemen, is needfull. |
speache and gesturing, as their witte or endyting. The which
when we earnestly mynd to doe, we can not but in time
appere somewhat like them. For if they that walke much
in the Sunne, and thinke not of it, are yet for the most part
Sunne burnt, it can not be but that they which wittingly
and willingly trauayle to counterfect other, must needes take
some colour of them, and be like vnto them in some one
thing or other, according to the Prouerbe, by companying
with the wise, a man shall learne wisedome.
¶ To what purpose this arte is set forthe.
TO this purpose and for this vse, is the arte compiled
together, by the learned and wisemen, that those which
| Rhetorique to what |
| purpose it serueth. |
| Arte a surer guide |
| then Nature. |
are ignorant might iudge of the learned, and labour (when
time should require) to followe their woorkes accordingly.
Againe, the arte helpeth well to dispose and order matters
of our owne inuention, the which wee may followe as
well in speaking as in writing, for though many by nature
without art, haue proued worthy men, yet is arte a surer
guide then nature, considering we see as liuely by arte
what we do, as though we read a thing in writing, where
as Natures doings are not so open to all men. Againe,
those that haue good wittes by Nature, shall better encrease
them by arte, and the blunt also shall bee whetted through
arte, that want Nature to helpe them forward.
¶ Fiue things to be considered
in an Oratour.
ANy one that will largely handle any matter, must fasten
his mynde first of all, vppon these fiue especiall pointes
that followe, and learne them euery one.
| {i. Inuention of matter. |
| {ii. Disposition of the same. |
| {iii. Elocution. |
| {iiii. Memorie. |
| {v. Utteraunce. |
| Oratours must have v. things |
| to make them perfite. |
THe finding out of apt matter, called otherwise Inuention,
is a searching out of things true, or things likely, the
which may reasonablie set forth a matter, and make it appeare
probable. The places of Logique, giue good occasion to finde
out plentifull matter. And therefore, they that will proue any
cause, and seeke onely to teach thereby the trueth, must search
out the places of Logique, and no doubt they shall finde much
| Inuention, what it is. |
| Disposition, what it is. |
plentie. But what auaileth much treasure and apt matter, if
man can not apply it to his purpose. Therefore, in the second
place is mentioned, the setling or ordering of things inuented
for this purpose, called in Latine Dispositio, the which is
nothing els but an apt bestowing, and orderly placing of
things, declaring where euery argument shall be set, and in
what maner euery reason shalbe applied for confirmation of the
purpose.
But yet what helpeth it though wee can finde good reasons,
and knowe how to place them, if wee haue not apt words and
picked Sentences, to commende the whole matter. Therefore,
| Elocution, what it is. |
| Memorie, what it is. |
this point must needes followe to beautifie the cause, the which
being called Elocution, is an applying of apt wordes and
sentences to the matter, found out to confirme the cause.
When all these are had together it auaileth little, if man haue
no Memorie to containe them. The Memorie therefore must
be cherished, the which is a fast holding both of matter and
words couched together, to confirme any cause.
Be it now that one haue all these fower, yet if he want the
fift all the other doe little profite. For though a man can
finde out good matter and good wordes, though hee can
handsomely set them together, and carie them very well awaie
| Pronunciation, |
| what it is. |
in his minde, yet it is to no purpose if he haue no vtterance,
when he should speake his minde, and shewe men what he
hath to saie. Vtterance therefore, is a framing of the voyce,
countenaunce, and gesture after a comely maner.
Thus we see, that euery one of these must goe together, to
make a perfite Oratour, and that the lack of one, is a hinderance
of the whole, and that as well all may be wanting as one,
if wee looke to haue an absolute Oratour.
There are seuen partes in euery Oration.
| Orations in general |
| consist vpon seuen |
| partes[.] |
| {i. The Enterance or beginning. |
| {ii. The Narration. |
| {iii. The Proposition. |
| {iiii. The Deuision or seuerall parting of things. |
| {v. The [C]onfirmation. |
| {vi. The [C]onfutation. |
| {vii. The Conclusion. |
The Entraunce or beginning is the former parte of the
Oration, whereby the will of the standers by, or of the
Iudge is sought for, and required to heare the matter.
The Narration is a plaine and manifest pointing of the
matter, and an euident setting forth of all things that belong
vnto the same, with a breefe rehersall grounded vpon some
reason.
The proposition is a pithie sentence comprehended in a
small roome, the somme of the whole matter.
The Deuision is an opening of things, wherein we agree
and rest vpon, and wherein we sticke and stand in trauers,
shewing what we haue to say in our owne behalfe.
The Confirmation is a declaration of our owne reasons,
with assured and constant proofes.
The Confutation is a dissoluing, or wyping away of all such
reasons as make against vs.
The Conclusion is a clarkly gathering of the matter spoken
before, and a lapping vp of it altogether.
Now, because in euery one of these greate heede ought to
bee had, and much arte must be vsed, to content and like all
parties: I purpose in the second booke to set foorthe at large
euery one of these, that both we may know in all partes what
to followe, and what to eschue. And first, when time shalbe
to talke of any matter I would aduise euery man to consider the
nature of the cause it self, that the rather he might frame his
whole Oration thereafter.
¶ Euery matter is contained in
one of these fower.
EIther it is an honest thing whereof we speake, or els it is
filthie and vile, or els betwixt both: and doubtfull what
| Matters in generall stand in |
| fower pointes. |
it is to bee called, or els it is some trifeling matter, that is
of small weight.
1 That is called an honest matter, when either we take in
hande such a cause that all men would maintayne, or els
gainsaie such a cause, that no man can well like.
2 Then doe wee holde and defend a filthie matter, when either
we speake against our owne conscience in an euill matter, or
els withstand an upright trueth.
3 The cause then is doubtfull, when the matter is halfe
honest, and halfe vnhonest.
4 Such are trifling causes when there is no weight in them,
as if one should phantasie to praise a goose before any other
beast liuing, (as I knowe who did) or of fruite to commende
Nuttes chiefly, as Ouid did, or the Feuer quartaine as Phauorinus
did, or the Gnat as Virgil did, or the battaile of Frogges
as Homer did, or dispraise beardes, or commend shauen
heddes.
Good heede to be taken at the first, vpon the handling
of any matter in Iudgement.
| Circumstances necessarie in |
| all causes to be noted. |
| Fauor winning, and affections |
| mouing when they are most |
| necessarie. |
| Aduersaries reasons when |
| they should best be confuted. |
NOT onely it is necessarie to knowe what maner of cause
we haue taken in hande, when we first enter vppon any
matter, but also it is wisedome to consider the tyme, the place,
the man for whom we speake, the man against whom we
speake, the matter whereof we speake, and the Iudges before
whom wee speake, the reasons that best serue to further our
cause, and those reasons also that may seeme somewhat to
hinder our cause, and in nowise to vse any such at all, or els
warely to mitigate by protestation the euill that is in them,
and alwaies to vse whatsoeuer can be saied, to win the chief
hearers good willes, and to perswade them to our purpose. If
the cause goe by fauour, and that reason can not so much
auaile, as good will shal be able to doe: or els if mouing
affections can doe more good, then bringing in of good
reasons, it is meete alwaies to vse that way, whereby wee may
by good helpe get the ouerhand. That if myne aduersaries
reasons, by mee being confuted serue better to helpe forward
my cause, then myne owne reasons confirmed, can be able to
doe good: I should wholy bestowe my tyme, and trauaile to
weaken and make slender, all that euer he bringeth with him.
But if I can with more ease proue mine own sayings, either with
| Arguments when they should |
| chiefly be vsed. |
witnesses, or with wordes, then bee able to confute his with
reason, I must labour to withdrawe mens mindes from mine
aduersaries foundation, and require them wholy to harken
vnto that which I haue to say, being of it selfe so iust and so
reasonable, that none can rightly speake against it, & shew them
that great pitie it were, for lacke of the onely hearing, that
a true matter should want true dealing. Ouer & besides al
these, there remaine two lessons, the which wisemen haue
alwaies obserued, and therefore ought of all men assuredly to
bee learned. The one is, that if any matter be laied against
| Matters hard to auoyde |
| should alwaies be past |
| ouer, as though wee sawe |
| them not at all. |
| Good to be bold in most |
| daunger, if otherwise |
| we cannot escape. |
vs, which by reason can hardly be auoyded, or the which is
so open, that none almost can deny: it were wisedome in
confuting all the other reasons, to passe ouer this one, as
though we saw it not, and therefore speake neuer a word of
it. Or els if necessitie shall force a man to say somewhat, he
may make an outward bragge, as though there were no matter
in it, euer so speaking of it, as though he would stand to
the triall, making men to beleeue he would fight in the
cause, when better it were (if necessitie so required) to run
cleane awaie. And therein though a man do flie and giue
place, euermore the gladder the lesse rauing there is, or
stirring in this matter: yet he flieth wisely and for this ende,
that being sensed otherwise, and strongly appointed, hee may
take his aduersarie at the best aduauntage, or at the least
wearie him with much lingering, and make him with oft such
flying, to forsake his cheefe defence.
The other lesson is, that whereas we purpose alwaies to
haue the victorie, we should so speake that we may labour,
rather not to hinder or hurt our cause, then to seeke meanes
| Better not to hurte |
| a good matter by ill |
| speeche then to further |
| it by good talke. |
| Warenesse in speaking, |
| and forbearing to speake[.] |
to further it. And yet I speake not this, but that both these
are right necessary, and euery one that will doe good, must
take paines in them both, but yet notwithstanding, it is a
fouler fault a great deale for an Orator, to be found hurting
his owne cause, then it should turne to his rebuke, if he had
not furthered his whole entent. Therfore not onely is it wisedome,
to speake so much as is needefull, but also it is good
reason to leaue vnspoken so much as is needelesse, the which
although the wisest can doe and neede no teaching, yet these
common wittes offende now and then in this behalf. Some
man being stirred, shall hurt more our cause then twentie
other. Taunting woordes before some men, will not bee
borne at all. Sharpe rebuking of our aduersarie, or frumpes
giuen before some persons, can not be suffered at all. Yea,
sometymes a man must not speake all that he knoweth, for if
he do, he is like to find small fauour, although he haue iust
| The persone before |
| whom we speake must be |
| well marked. |
| Time must be |
| obserued. |
cause to speake, and may with reason declare his mynd at
large. And albeit that witlesse folke, can sooner rebuke that
which is fondly spoken, then redily praise that which is wisely
kept close, yet the necessitie of the matter must rather be
marked, then the fond iudgement of the people esteemed.
What a sore saying were this: When a Lawier should take
in hande a matter concerning life and death: and an other
should aske how he hath sped, to heare tell that the Lawyer
hath not only cast away his client, but vndoen himself also, in
speaking thinges, inconsideratly, as no doubt it often happeneth
that wisemen and those also that be none euill men neither,
may vnwares speake things, which afterward they sore repent,
and would call backe againe with losse of a great somme.
Now what folly it is, not to remember the time, and the men.
Or who will speake that which he knoweth will not be liked,
if he purpose to finde fauour at their hands, before whome he
speaketh, what man of reason, will praise that before the
Iudges (before whom he knoweth the determination of his
cause resteth) which the Iudges them selues cannot abide to
heare spoken at all? Or doeth not so much hinder his owne
matter, that without all curtesie or preface made, will largely
speake euill of those men, whom the hearers of his cause
tenderly do fauour? Or be it that there be some notable fault
in thine aduersarie, with which the Iudges also are infected,
were it not folly for thee to charge thine aduersarie with the
same. Considering the Iudges thereby may think, thou speakest
against them also, and so thou maiest perhaps lose their fauour,
in seeking such defence made without all discretion. And in
framing reasons to confirme the purpose, if any be spoken
plainly false, or els contrarie to that which was spoken before,
doeth it not much hinder a good matter? Therefore in all
causes this good heed ought to be had, that alwaies we labour
to do some good in furthering of our cause, or if we cannot so
doe, at the least that we do no harme at al.
¶ There are three kindes of causes or Orations,
which serue for euery matter.
| Orations or causes |
| of iii. kinds. |
NOthing can be handled by this arte, but the same is
conteined within one of these three causes. Either the
matter consisteth in praise, or dispraise of a thing or els in
consulting, whether the cause be profitable, or vnprofitable:
or lastly, whether the matter be right or wrong. And yet this
one thing is to be learned, that in euery one of these three
causes, these three seuerall endes, may euery one of them be
conteined in any one of them. And therefore, he that shall
haue cause to praise any one bodie, shall haue iust cause to
speake of Iustice, to entreate of profite, and ioyntly to talke of
one thing with an other. But because these three causes, are
commonly and for the most part seuerally parted, I will speake
of them one after an other, as they are set forth by wise mens
iudgements, and particularly declare their properties all in
order.
The Oration demonstratiue standeth either in praise, or
dispraise of some one man, or of some one thing, or of some
one deed doen.
¶ The kind Demonstratiue, wherein
cheefly it standeth.
THere are diuers things which are praised and dispraised,
as men, Countries, Cities, Places, Beastes, Hilles, Riuers,
Houses, Castles, deedes doen by worthy men, and pollicies
euented by great Warriors, but most commonly men are
praised for diuers respectes, before any of the other things are
taken in hande.
| Noble persones, how |
| they should be praised. |
Now in praysing a noble personage, and in setting foorth
at large his worthinesse: Quintillian giueth warning, to vse
this threefold order.
| { Before this life. |
| To obserue things. | { In his life. |
| { After his death. |
Before a mans life, are considered these places.
| {The Realme. |
| {The Sheire. |
| {The towne. |
| {The Parentes. |
| {The Auncesters. |
IN a mans life, praise must bee parted threefolde. That is
to say, into the giftes of good things of the mynde, the
body, and of fortune. Now the giftes of the body & of fortune,
are not praise worthy of their owne nature: but euen as they
are vsed, either to or fro, so they are either praised, or dispraised.
Giftes of the mind deserue the whole trompe &
sound commendation aboue all other, wherein we may vse the
rehearsal of vertues, as they are in order, and beginning at
his infancie, tel all his doings till his last age.
¶ The places whereof are these.
| { The birthe, and } | | {Whether the persone be a |
| { infancie.} | | {man, or a woman. |
| | {The brynging vp, the |
| { The childhood. } | | {nurturing, and the behauour |
| | {of his life. |
| { The Striplyng } | | {To what study he taketh |
| { age, or Springtide. } | Whereunto | {himself vnto, what company |
| are referred | {he useth, how he liueth. |
| { The mannes } | these. | {Prowesse doen, either |
| { state. } | | {abrode, or at home. |
| | {His pollicies and wittie |
| { The olde age. } | | {deuises, in behoufe of the |
| | {publique weale. |
| { The tyme of his} | | {Things that haue happened |
| { departure, or } | | {about his death. |
| { death. } | | |
NOw to open all these places more largely, as well those
that are before a mannes life, as such as are in his life,
and after his death, that the Reader may further see the
profite will I doe the best I can.
| The house or auncestrie |
| whereof a noble |
| personage commeth. |
The house whereof a noble personage came, declares the
state and natures of his auncesters, his alliance, and his
kinsfolke. So that such worthie feates as they haue hertofore
done, & al such honors as they haue had for such their good
seruice, redounds wholy to the encrease and amplifying of his
honor, that is now liuing.
The Realme declares the nature of the people. So that
some Countrey bringeth more honor with it, then an other
doth. To be a French man, descending there of a noble
house, is more honor then to be an Irish man: To bee an
English man borne, is much more honor then to bee a Scot,
because that by these men, worthie Prowesses haue beene done,
and greater affaires by them attempted, then haue beene done
by any other.
The Shire or Towne helpeth somewhat, towardes the
encrease of honor: As it is much better to bee borne in Paris,
then in Picardie: in London then in Lincolne. For that
both the ayre is better, the people more ciuill, and the wealth
much greater, and the men for the most part more wise.
To bee borne a manchilde, declares a courage, grauitie,
and constancie. To be borne a woman, declares weakenesse of
spirit, neshnesse of body, and ficklenesse of minde.
Now, for the bringing vp of a noble personage, his nurse
must bee considered, his play fellowes obserued, his teacher
and other his seruaunts called in remembraunces. How euery
one of these liued then, with whom they haue liued afterwards,
and how they liue now.
| vi. Inclination of nature. |
By knowing what he taketh himselfe vnto, and wherein hee
most delighteth, I may commend him for his learning, for his
skill in the French, or in the Italian, for his knowledge in
Cosmographie: for his skill in the Lawes, in the histories of
all Countries, and for his gift of enditing. Againe, I may
commend him for playing at weapons, for running vpon
a great Horse, for charging his staffe at the Tilt, for vawting,
for playing vpon Instruments, yea, and for painting, or
drawing of a Plat, as in old time noble Princes much delighted
therein.
Prowesse done, declare his seruice to the King, and his
Countrey, either in withstanding the outward enemie, or els
in aswaging the rage of his owne Countreymen at home.
His wise counsaile, and good aduise giuen, sets forth the
goodnesse of his wit.
| ix. Time of departing |
| this world. |
At the time of his departing, his sufferaunce of all sicknesse,
may much commende his worthinesse. As his strong
heart, and cherefull pacience euen to the ende, cannot want
great praise. The loue of all men towards him, and the
lamenting generally for his lacke, helpe well most highly to set
forth his honour.
After a mans death, are considered his Tombe, his Cote
armour set vp, and all such honours as are vsed in Funeralles.
If any one list to put these precepts in practise, he may doe
as him liketh best. And surely I doe thinke, that nothing so
| Duke of Suffolke, |
| and Lorde Charles. |
much furthereth knowledge as dayly exercise, and enuring
our selues to doe that in deede, which we knowe in worde.
And because examples giue great light, after these precepts are
set forth, I will commend two noble Gentlemen, Henry Duke
of Suffolke, and his brother Lord Charles Duke with him.
¶ An example of commending
a noble personage.
BEtter or more wisely can none do, then they which neuer
bestowe praise, but vpon those that best deserue praise,
rather minding discretely what they ought to doe, then
vainely deuising what they best can doe, seeking rather to
praise men, such as are found worthie, then curiously finding
meanes to praise matters, such as neuer were in any. For
they which speake otherwise then trueth is, minde not the
commendation of the person, but the setting forth of their
owne learning. As Gorgias in Plato, praysing vnrighteousnesse,
| Gorgias. |
| Heliogabalus |
| Paphorinus. |
Heliogabalus Oratours commending whoredome, Phaphorinus
the Philosopher, extolling the Feuer quartain, thought not to
speake as the cause required, but would so much say as their
witte would giue, not weighing the state of the cause, but
minding the vaunt of their braine, looking how much could
bee sayd, not passing how little should bee sayd. But I both
knowing the might of Gods hande, for such as loue Fables,
and the shame that in earth redoundeth to euill reporters,
will not commend that in those, which neede no good praise,
but will commend them that no man iustly can dispraise, nor
yet any one is well able worthely to praise. Their towardnesse
was such, and their giftes so great, that I know none which
loue learning, but hath sorrowed the lacke of their being.
And I knowe that the onely naming of them, will stirre
honest hearts to speake well of them. I will speake of two
bretheren that lately departed, the one Henry Duke of Suffolke,
and the other Lord Charles his brother, whom GOD thinking
meeter for heauen, then to liue here vpon earth, tooke from
vs in his anger, for the bettering of our doinges, and amendment
of our euill liuing. These two Gentlemen were borne
in noble Englande, both by father and mother of an high
parentage. The father called Duke Charles, by Mariage
| Henry Duke of |
| Suffolke and |
| Lorde Charles |
| his brother. |
beeing brother to the worthie King of famous memorie Henry
the eight, was in such fauour, and did such seruice, that all
England at this howre doth finde his lacke, and France yet
doth feele that such a Duke there was, whom in his life time
the Godly loued: the euill feared, the wise men honoured for
his witte, and the simple vsed alwaies for their counsaile.
Their mother of birth noble, and witte great, of nature gentle,
and mercifull to the poore, and to the Godly, and especially
to the learned an earnest good Patronesse, and most helping
Ladie aboue all other. In their youth their father died, the
eldest of them beeing not past nine yeares of age. After whose
death, their mother knowing, that wealth without wit, is like
a sworde in a naked mans hande, and assuredly certaine, that
knowledge would confirme iudgement, prouided so for their
bringing vp in all vertue and learning, that two like were not
to bee had within this Realme againe. When they began
both to ware somewhat in yeares, being in their primetide and
spring of their age, the elder wayting on the Kings Maiestie
that now is, was generally wel esteemed, and such hope was
conceiued of his towardnesse, both for learning and al other
things, that fewe were like vnto him in al the Court. The
other keeping his booke among the Cambrige men profited
(as they well knowe) both in vertue and learning, to their great
admiration. For the Greeke, the Latine, and the Italian, I
know he could do more, then would be thought true by my
report. I leaue to speake of his skill in pleasant Instrumentes,
neither will I vtter his aptnesse in Musicke, and his toward
Nature, to all exercises of the body. But his elder brother
in this time (besides his other giftes of the minde, which
passed all other, and were almost incredible) following his
fathers nature, was so delited with ryding, and runnyng in
armour vpon horsebacke, and was so comely for that fact, and
could dooe so well in charging his Staffe, beeing but xiiii.
yeeres of age, that men of warre, euen at this howre, mone
much the want of such a worthy Gentleman. Yea, the French
men that first wondered at his learning, when he was there
among them, and made a notable oration in Latine: were
much more astonied when they sawe his comely riding, and
little thought to finde these two ornaments ioyned both in
one, his yeares especially being so tender, and his practise of
so small tyme. Afterward comming from the Court, as one
that was desirous to be among the learned, he lay in Cambridge
together with his brother, where they both so profited,
and so gently vsed themselues, that all Cambridge did reuerence,
both him and his brother, as two Iewels sent from God.
The elders nature was such, that hee thought himself best,
when he was among the wisest, and yet contemned none, but
thankfully vsed al, gentle in behauiour without childishnesse,
stout of stomack without al pride, bold with all warenesse, and
friendly with good aduisement. The yonger being not so ripe
in yeres, was not so graue in looke, rather cherefull, then
sad: rather quicke, then auncient: but yet if his brother were
set aside, not one that went beyond him. A child, that by his
owne inclination, so much yeelded to his ruler, as few by
chastment haue done the like: pleasant of speech, prompt of
wit, stirring by nature, hault without hate, kind without craft,
liberall of heart, gentle in behauiour, forward in all things,
greedie of learning, & loth to take a foile in any open assembly.
They both in all attempts, sought to haue the victorie,
and in exercise of wit, not only the one with the other, did
oft stand in contention, but also they both would match with
the best, and thought them selues most happie, when they
might haue any iust occasion, to put their wittes in triall.
And now when this greene fruite began to waxe ripe, and all
men longed to haue a taste of such their great forwardnesse:
God preuenting mans expectation, tooke them both about
one howre, and in so shorte time, that first they were knowne
to be dead, or any abroad could tel they were sicke. I neede
not to rehearse, what both they spake, before their departure
(considering, I haue seuerally written, both in Latine and in
English, of the same matter) neither will I heape here so much
together, as I can, because I should rather renew great sorrow
to many, then doe most men any great good, who loued them
so well generally, that fewe for a great space after, spake of
these two Gentlemen, but they shewed teares, with the only
vtterance of their wordes, and some through ouer much
sorrowing, were faine to forbeare speaking. GOD graunt vs
all to liue, that the good men of this world, may bee alwaies
loth to forsake vs, and God may still be glad to haue vs, as no
doubt these two children so died, as all men should wish to
liue, and so they liued both, as al should wish to dye. Seeing
therefore, these two were such, both for birth, nature, and all
other giftes of grace, that the like are hardly found behind
them: Let vs so speak of them, that our good reporte may
warne vs, to followe their godly natures, and that lastly, we
may enioye that inheritance, whereunto God hath prepared
them and vs (that feare him) from the beginning. Amen.
| {The Enteraunce. |
| The partes of an | {The Narration. |
| Oration made in | {Sometimes the confutation. |
| praise of a man. | {The Conclusion. |
IF any one shall haue iust cause, to dispraise an euill man, he
shall sone doe it, if he can praise a good man. For (as
Aristotle doth say) of contraries, there is one and the same
doctrine, and therefore, hee that can doe the one, shall soone
bee able to doe the other.
¶ Of an Oration demonstratiue,
for some deede done.
| Oration demonstratiue |
| of a deede. |
THe kind demonstratiue of some thing done, is this, when
a man is commended, or dispraised, for any act committed
in his life.
¶ The places to confirme this cause, why any one
is commended, are sixe in number.
| {i. It is honest. |
| {ii. It is possible. |
| The places of confirmation. | {iii. Easie to be done. |
| {iiii. Hard to be done. |
| {v. Possible to be done. |
| {vi. Impossible to be done. |
Seuen circumstaunces, which are to bee considered in diuers
matters.
| {i. Who did the deede. |
| {ii. What was done. |
| The circumstaunces. | {iii. Where it was done. |
| {iiii. What helpe had he to doe it. |
| {v. Wherefore he did it. |
| {vi. How he did it. |
| {vii. At what time he did it. |
¶ The circumstaunces in Meter.
Who, what, and where, by what helpe, and by whose:
Why, how, and when, doe many things disclose.
THese places helpe vonderfully to set out any matter, and
to amplifie it to the vttermost, not onely in praysing, or
dispraysing, but also in all other causes, where any aduisement
is to bee vsed. Yet this one thing is to be learned, that it
shal not be necessarie to vse them altogether, euen as they
stand in order: but rather as time and place shall best require,
they may be vsed in any part of the Oration, euen as it shall
please him that hath the vsing of them. Againe, if any man
be disposed to rebuke any offence, he may vse the places
contrary vnto them, that are aboue rehearsed, and applie
these circumstaunces, euen as they are, to the proofe of his
purpose.
An example of commending King Dauid, for killing great Goliah,
gathered and made, by obseruation of circumstances.
| Dauid commended |
| for killing Goliah. |
GOD being the aucthour of mankinde, powring into him
the breath of life, and framing him of clay, in such a
comely wise as wee all now see, hath from the beginning,
beene so carefull ouer his elect and chosen, that in al
daungers, he is euer readie to assist his people, keeping them
harmlesse, when they were often past all mans hope. And
among all other his fatherly goodnesse, it pleased him to shewe
his power to his chosen seruaunt Dauid, that al might learne
| Who? Dauid |
| against Goliah. |
to knowe his might, and recken with themselues, that though
man giue the stroke, yet God it is that giueth the ouerhand.
For wher as Dauid was of small stature, weake of bodie, poore
of birth, and base in the sight of the worldlings, God called
him first to match with an huge monster, a little bodie,
against a mightie Gyaunt, an abiect Israelite, against a most
valiaunt Philistine, with whom no Israelite durst encounter.
These Philistines, trusting in their owne strength so much that
they feared no perrill, but made an accompt, that all was theirs
before hand. Now, when both these armies were in sight,
the Philistines vpon an hill of the one side, and the Israelites
vpon an hill of the other side, a vale beeing betwixt them both,
there marched out of the Campe, a base borne Philistine,
called Goliah of Geth, a man of sixe Cubites high. This
Souldier, when through his bignesse and stature of his bodie,
and also with great bragges, and terrible threatninges, he had
wonderfully abashed the whole Armie of the Israelites, so that
no man durst aduenture vpon him. God to the end he might
deliuer Israell, and shew that mans helpe, with all his armour,
litle auaile to get victorie, without his especiall grace: and
againe, to the end he might set vp Dauid, and make him
honourable among the Israelites, did then call out Dauid, the
sonne of Ephrateus, of Bethleem Iuda, whose name was Isaie,
| What? Dauid |
| killed Goliah. |
| Where? About |
| the vale of |
| Terebinthus. |
who being but a childe in yeres, did kill out of hand, by Gods
might and power, Goliath the most terrible enemie of all
other, that bare hate against the children of Israell. When
this mightie fellowe was slaine, about the vale of Terebinthus,
betwixt both the Armies, the Israelites reioysed, that before
quaked, and wondered at him then, whom they would scant
knowe before, and no doubt this deede was not only wonderfull,
but also right godly. For in battaile to kill an enemie,
is thought right worthie, or to aduenture vpon a Rebell
(though the successe followe not) is generally commended, yea,
to put one to the worse, or to make him flie the ground, is
called manly, but what shal we say of Dauid, that not onely
had the better hande, not onely bet his enemie, but killed
streight his enemie, yea, and not an enemie of the common
stature of men, but a mightie Gyant, not a man, but a
| Dauids enterprise, honest |
| & godly. By what help, |
| & by whose, alone and |
| without the helpe of |
| any man liuing. |
monster, yea, a deuill in heart, and a beast in bodie? Can any
be compted more honest then such as seeke to saue their
Countrey, by hassarding their carcasses, and shedding of their
bloud? Can loue shew it self greater, then by yeelding of life,
for the health of an army? It had been much, if halfe a dosen
had dispatched such a terrible Giaunt, but now, when Dauid
without helpe, being not yet a man but a boye in yeares,
slewe him hand to hand, what iust praise doth he deserue? If
we praise other, that haue slaine euil men, and compt them
haultie, that haue killed their matches, what shall wee say of
Dauid, that being wonderfully ouermatched, made his partie
| Dauids enterprise, |
| praise worthie. |
good, and got the Gole of a Monster. Let other praise
Hercules, that thinke best of him: let Cæsar, Alexander, and
Hanniball, bee bruted for Warriers: Dauid in my iudgement,
both did more manly, then all the other were able, and serued his
Countrey in greater daunger, then euer any one of them did.
And shall we not call such a noble Captaine, a good man of
warre. Deserueth not his manhoode and stout attempt,
wonderfull praise? If vertue could speake, would she not sone
| Why? for the sauegard |
| of his Countrie. |
confesse, that Dauid had her in full possession? And therefore,
if well doinges, by right may chalenge worthie Brute, Dauid
will be knowne, and neuer can want due praise, for such an
honest deede. And what man will not say, but that Dauid did
minde nothing els herein, but the sauegarde of his Countrey,
thinking it better for himselfe to dye, and his Countrey to
liue, then himselfe to liue, and his Countrey to dye. What
gaine got Dauid, by the death of Goliath, or what could he
hope, by the death of such a Monster, but onely that the loue
which he bare to the Israelites, forced him to hassarde his
| Dauids enterprise, profitable |
| to himself and his Countrey. |
owne life: thinking that if the Philistines should preuaile, the
Israelites were like to perrish, euery mothers sonne of them?
Therefore, hee hassarding this attempt, considered with himselfe,
the sauegarde of the Israelites, the maintenaunce of
Iustice, his duetie towards GOD, his obedience to his Prince,
and his loue to his Countrey. And no doubt, God made
| Dauids enterprise, appereth |
| easie to himselfe. |
this enterprise appere full easie, before Dauid could haue the
heart to match himselfe with such a one. For though his
heart might quake, being voyde of Gods helpe, yet assuredly he
wanted no stomacke, when God did set him on. Let Tyraunts
rage, let Hell stande open, let Sathan shewe his might, if God be
with vs, who can be against vs? Though this Goliah appeared
so strong, that ten Dauids were not able to stande in his
hande: yet tenne Goliahs were all euer weake for Dauid alone.
Man can not judge, neither can reason comprehend the
mightie power of God.
When Pharao with all his Armie, thought fully to destroye
the children of Israell in the red Sea, did not God preserue
Moses, and destroyed Pharao? What is man, and all his power
that he can make, in the handes of GOD, vnto whom all
creatures both in heauen and in earth, are subiect at his
commaundement? Therefore, it was no masterie for Dauid,
beeing assisted with GOD, aswell to match with the whole
| Dauids enterprise |
| accompted of his |
| friends hard and |
| impossible. |
Armie, as to ouerthrow this one man. But what did the
Israelites, when they sawe Dauid take vppon him such a
bolde enterprise? Some sayd he was rash, other mocked him
to scorne, and his brethren called him foole. For thought
they, what a mad fellowe is he, being but a lad in yeares, to
match with such a monster in bodie? How can it be possible
otherwise, but that he shall be torne in peeces, euen at the
first comming? For if the Philistine may once hit him, he is
gon though he had ten mens liues. Now what should he
meane, so vnegally to match himselfe, except he were wearie
of his life, or els were not well in his wittes? Yea, and to
giue his enemies all the aduauntage that could be, he came
vnarmed, and whereas the Philistine had very strong Armour,
both to defende himselfe, and a strong weapon to fight
withall: Dauid came with a Sling onely, as though he would
kill Crowes, whereat, not onely the Philistine laughed and
disdained his follie, but also both the Armies thought he was
but a dead man, before he gaue one stroke. And in deede,
by all reason and deuise of man, there was none other way,
but death with him out of hande. Dauid notwithstanding,
beeing kindeled in heart, with Gods might, was strong
enough for him, in his owne opinion, and forced nothing
though all other were much against him. And therefore,
made no more a doe, but being readie to reuenge in Gods
name, such great blasphemie, as the Philistine then did vtter:
marched towarde his enemie, and with casting a stone out of
a Sling, he ouerthrew the Philistine at the first. The which
when he had done, out with his sworde and chopt of his head,
carying it with his armour, to the Campe of the Israelites:
whereat the Philistines were greatly astonied, and the Israelites
much praised GOD, that had giuen such grace to such a one,
to compasse such a deede. And the rather this manly act, is
highly to bee praised, because he subdued this huge enemie,
when Saull first reigned King of Israel, and was sore assailed
with the great armie of the Philistines. Let vs therefore that
be now liuing, when this act or such like, come into our
mindes: remember what God is, of how infinite power he is,
and let vs praise God in them, by whom he hath wrought such
wonders, to the strengthning of our faith, and constaunt
keeping of our profession, made to him by euery one of vs in
our Baptisme.
¶ Examining of the circumstaunces.
i. Who did the deede?
DAuid beeing an Israelite, did this deede, beeing the
sonne of Isaie, of the tribe of Iuda, a boye in yeares.
This circumstaunce was vsed, not onely in the narration, but
also when I spake of the honesty and godlinesse, which Dauid
vsed, when he slue Goliah.
ii. What was done?
He slue Goliah, the strongest Giaunt among the Philistines.
This circumstance I vsed also, when I spake of the honestie,
in killing Goliah.
iii. Where was it done?
About the vale of Terebinthus.
iiii. What helpe had he to it?
He had no help of any man but went himself alone. And
whereas, Saull offered him Harnesse, he cast it away, and
trusting only in God, tooke him to his Sling, with fower or
fiue small stones in his hand, the which were thought nothing
in mans sight, able either to doe little good, or els nothing at
all. This circumstaunce I vsed, when I spake of the easinesse
and possibilitie, that was in Dauid to kill Goliah, by Gods
helpe.
v. Wherefore did he it?
He aduentured his life, for the loue of his Countrey, for
the maintenance of iustice, for the aduauncement of Gods
true glorie, and for the quietnesse of all Israel, neither seeking
fame, nor yet looking for any gaine. I vsed this circumstance
when I shewed what profite he sought in aduenturing this
deede.
vi. How did he it?
Marie, he put a stone in his Sling, and when he had cast
it at the Philistine Goliah fell downe straight. I vsed this
circumstaunce, when I spake of the impossibilitie of the thing.
vii. What time did he it?
This deede was done, when Saull reigned first King ouer
the Israelites, at what time the Philistines came against the
Israelites. Thus by the circumstaunces of things, a right
worthie cause may be plentifully enlarged.
¶ Of the Oration demonstratiue, where things are
set forth, and matter commended.
THE kind demonstratiue of things, is a meane wherby
we doe praise, or dispraise things, as Vertue, Vice,
Townes, Cities, Castelles, Woodes, Waters, Hilles and
Mountaines.
¶ Places to confirme things are fower.
| {i. Things honest. |
| {ii. Profitable. |
| Places of confirmation. | {iii. Easie to be done. |
| {iiii. Hard to be done. |
MAny learned will haue recourse to the places of Logicke,
in steede of these fower places, when they take in hand
to commend any such matter. The which places if they
make them serue, rather to commende the matter, then onely
to teach men the trueth of it, it were wel done, and Oratour
like, for seing a man wholly bestoweth his witte to play the
Oratour, he should chiefly seeke to compasse that, which he
entendeth, and not doe that only which he neuer minded, for
by plaine teaching, the Logician shewes himselfe, by large
amplification, and beautifying of his cause, the Rhetorician is
alwaies knowne.
¶ The places of Logicke are these.
| {Definition. |
| {Causes. |
| {Parts. |
| {Effects. |
| {Things adioyning. |
| {Contraries. |
I Doe not see otherwise, but that these places of Logicke are
confounded with the other fower of confirmation, or rather
I thinke these of Logicke must first bee minded, ere the other
| Logicke must be learned for |
| confirmation of causes. |
can well be had. For what is he, that can cal a thing honest,
and by reason proue it, except he first know what the thing
is: the which he cannot better doe, then by defining the
nature of the thing. Againe, how shall I know, whether
mine attempt be easie or hard if I know not the efficient
cause, or be assured how it may be done. In affirming it to
bee possible, I shall not better knowe it then by searching the
ende, and learning by Logicke, what is the finall cause of euery
thing.
¶ An example in commendation of
Iustice, or true dealing.
SO many as looke to liue in peaceable quietnesse, being
minded rather to follow reason, then to be led by wilfull
affection: desire Iustice in all things, without the which no
countrey is able long to continue. Then may I be bolde to
commende that, which all men wish, and fewe can haue,
which all men loue, and none can want: not doubting, but
as I am occupied in a good thing, so al good men will heare
me with a good will. But would God I were so well able, to
perswade all men to Iustice, as all men knowe the necessarie
vse thereof: and then vndoubtedly, I would bee much bolder,
and force some by violence, which by faire wordes cannot bee
entreated. And yet what needes any perswasion for that thing,
which by nature is so needfull, & by experience so profitable,
that looke what we want, without Iustice we get not, looke
what we haue: without Iustice wee keepe not. God graunt
vs his grace so to worke in the hearts of al men, that they
may aswell practise well doing in their owne life, as they
would that other should followe Iustice in their life: I for my
part will bestowe some labour, to set forth the goodnesse of
vpright dealing, that all other men the rather may doe
thereafter. That if through my wordes, GOD shall worke
with any man, then may I thinke my selfe in happie case, and
reioyce much in the trauaile of my witte. And how can it
be otherwise, but that all men shalbe forced inwardly to
| Iustice naturally in |
| euery one of vs. |
allow that, which in outwarde act many doe not followe:
seeing God powred first this lawe of nature, into mans heart,
and graunted it as a meane, whereby wee might knowe his
will, and (as I might saye) talke with him, grounding still his
doinges vppon this poinct, that man should doe as he would
bee done vnto, the which is nothing els, but to liue vprightly,
without any will to hurt his neighbour. And therefore,
hauing this light of Gods will opened vnto vs, through his
mere goodnesse, we ought euermore, to referre all our actions
vnto this ende, both in giuing iudgement, and deuising Lawes
| Iustice what it is, |
| and how largely it |
| extendeth. |
necessarie for mans life. And hereupon it is, that when men
desire the Lawe, for triall of a matter, they meane nothing
els but to haue Iustice, the which Iustice is a vertue that
yeeldeth to euery man his owne: to the euer liuing God loue
aboue all things: to the King obedience: to the inferiour
good counsaile: to the poore man, mercy: to the hatefull and
wicked, sufferaunce: to it self, trueth: and to all men,
perfite peace and charitie. Now, what can be more saied, in
praise of this vertue, or what thing can be like praised? Are
not all things in good case, when all men haue their owne?
And what other thing doth Iustice, but seeketh meanes to
content all parties? Then how greatly are they to be praised,
that meane truely in al their doinges, not onely doe no harme
to any, but seeke meanes to helpe al. The Sunne is not so
wonderfull to the world (saith Aristotle) as the iust dealing of
a gouernour, is marueilous to all men. No, the earth yeeldeth
no more gaine to all creatures, then doth the Iustice of a
Magistrate, to his whole Realme. For by a Lawe, we liue,
and take the fruites of the earth, but where no Lawe is, nor
Iustice vsed: there nothing can bee had, though all thinges be
at hand: for in hauing the thing, we shall lacke the vse, and
liuing in great plentie, wee shall stande in great neede. The
meane therefore, that maketh men to enioye their owne, is
Iustice, the which being once taken away, all other thinges
are lost with it, neither can any one saue that he hath, nor
| Wrong dealing |
| deserueth death. |
yet get that he wanteth. Therefore, if wrong doing should
be borne withall, and not rather punished by death, what man
could liue in rest? Who could bee sure either of his life, or of
his liuing one whole day together? Now, because euery man
desireth the preseruation of himselfe, euery man should in like
case desire the sauegard of his neighbour. For if I should
wholly minde myne owne ease, and followe gaine without
respect, to the hinderaunce of myne euen Christian: why
should not other vse the same libertie, and so euery man for
himselfe, and the Deuill for vs al, catch that catch may? The
which custome if all men followed, the earth would sone be
voyd, for want of men one would be so greedy to eate vp an
other. For in seeking to liue, wee would lose our liues, and
in gaping after goodes, wee should soone goe naked. Therefore,
to represse this rage, and with wholsome deuises to
traine men in an order, GOD hath lightened man with knowledge,
that in all thinges he may see what is right, and what
| Iustice necessarie |
| for all men. |
is wrong, and vpon good aduisement deale iustly with all
men. God hath created all thinges for mans vse, and ordeined
man, for mans sake, that one man might helpe an other.
For though some one haue giftes more plentifully then the
common sorte, yet no man can liue alone, without helpe of
other. Therefore wee should striue one to helpe an other by
iust dealing, some this way, and some that way, as euery one
| From the lesse |
| to the greater. |
shal haue neede, and as we shalbe alwaies best able, wherein
the lawe of nature is fulfilled, and Gods commaundement
followed. Wee loue them here in earth, that giue vs faire
wordes, and wee can bee content, to speake well of them,
that speake well of vs? and shall we not loue them, and take
them also for honest men, which are contented from time to
time, to yeeld euery man his owne, and rather would dye
then consent to euill doing: If one be gentle in outward
behauiour, we like him well, and shall we not esteeme him
that is vpright in his outward liuing? And like as wee desire,
that other should bee to vs, ought not wee to bee likewise,
affected towardes them? Euen among brute Beastes, nature
hath appointed a lawe, and shall wee men liue without a lawe?
The Storke being not able to feede her self for age, is fed of her
young ones, wherein is declared a naturall loue, and shall wee
so liue that one shall not loue an other? Man should be vnto
man as a God, & shal man be vnto man as a deuil? Hath
| Vnnaturalnesse in |
| man towards God. |
God created vs, and made vs to his owne likenesse, enduing vs
with all the riches of the earth, that wee might bee obedient
to his will, and shall wee neither loue his, nor like his? How
can we say that we loue God, if there be no charitie in vs?
Doe I loue him, whose minde I will not followe, although it
be right honest? If you loue me (sayth Christ) followe my
Commaundements. Christes will is such, that wee should
| Ihon xiiii. |
| Math. xix. |
| Mark. x. |
| Prouer. xvi. |
| Prouer. iiii. |
| Psal. xcvi. |
| Profite of Iustice. |
loue God aboue all things, and our neighbour as our self.
Then if we doe not iustice (wherein loue doth consist) we
do neither loue man, nor yet loue God. The Wiseman saith:
The beginning of a good life, is to doe Iustice. Yea, the
blessing of the Lord, is vpon the head of the iust. Heauen is
theirs (saith Dauid) that doe iustly from time to time. What
els then shall we doe, that haue any hope of the generall
resurrection, but doe the will of God, and liue iustly all the
daies of our life? Let euery man, but consider with himselfe,
what ease he shall finde thereby, and I doubt not, but euery
one deepely waying the same, will in heart confesse, that
Iustice maketh plentie, & that no man could long hold
his own if lawes were not made, to restraine mans will.
We trauaile now, Winter and Sommer, we watch and take
thought, for maintenaunce of wife and children, assuredly
purposing (that though God shall take vs immediatly) to
| Sauegard had |
| by Iustice. |
| Gradation. |
leaue honestly for our familie. Now, to what ende were all
our gathering together, if iust dealing were set a side, if Lawes
bare no rule, if that the wicked list, that they may, and what
they may, that they can, and what they can, that they dare,
& what they dare, the same they doe, & whatsoeuer they doe,
no man of power is agreeued therwith? What maketh wicked
men (which els would not) acknowledge the King as their
soueraigne Lord, but the power of a law, & the practise of
Iustice for euill doers? Could a Prince maintaine his state
| The necessitie |
| of Iustice. |
royall, if law and right had not prouided, that euery man
should haue his owne? Would seruaunts obeye their maisters,
the sonne his father, the Tenaunt his Landlord, the Citezein
his Maior or Sherief if orders were not set, & iust dealing
appointed for all states of men? Therfore, the true meaning
folke in al ages giue themselues some to this occupation, and
some to that, seking therin nothing els but to maintain a poore
life, and to kepe themselues true men, both to GOD and the
world. What maketh men to performe their bargaines, to
stand to their promises, and yeeld their debtes, but an order
of a law grounded vpon Iustice? Where right beareth rule,
| Where iustice is |
| executed, vice is |
| exiled. |
there craft is compted vice. The liar is much hated, where
trueth is well esteemed. The wicked theeues are hanged,
where good men are regarded. None can hold vp their
heads, or dare shewe their faces, in a well ruled common
weale, that are not thought honest, or at the least haue some
honest way to liue. The Egiptians therefore, hauing a worthy
and a wel gouerned commonweale, prouided that none should
liue idly, but that euery one monthly should giue an accompt,
| Egiptians, what order |
| they vsed to banish |
| idlenesse. |
how he spent his time, and had his name regestred in a booke
for the same purpose. But Lord, if this law were vsed in
England, how many would come behind hand with their
reckenings at the audite day. I feare me their doings would
be such, that it would be long ere they got their quietus est.
Therfore the worse is our state, the lesse that this euill is
looked vnto. And surely, if in other thinges wee should bee
as negligent, this Realme could not long stand. But thankes
be to God, wee hang them a pace, that offend a lawe, and
therefore, wee put it to their choyce, whether they wilbe
idle, and so fall to stealing or no? they knowe their reward,
goe to it when they wil. But if therewithal some good order
were taken, for education of youth, and setting loyterers on
worke (as thanks be to God, the Citie is most godly bent
that way) all would sone be well, without all doubt. The
wise and discrete persons in al ages, sought all meanes possible,
to haue an order in all thinges, and loued by Iustice to direct
all their doinges, whereby appeareth both an apt will in such
men, and a naturall stirring by Gods power, to make all men
| Iustice, easie to |
| be obserued if will |
| be not wanting. |
good. Therefore if we do not well, we must blame our
selues, that lack a will, & do not call to God for grace. For
though it appere hard to do wel, because no man can get
perfection, without continuance: yet assuredly to an humble
mind that calleth to God, & to a willing heart that faine
would do his best, nothing can be hard. God hath set al
things to sale for labor, & keepeth open shop come who wil.
Therefore in all ages, whereas we see the fewest good we
must well thinke, the most did lacke good will to aske, or
seeke for the same. Lord what loue had that worthie Prince
Seleucus to maintaine Iustice, and to haue good lawes kept, of
whom such a wonderfull thing is written. For whereas he
established most wholesome lawes, for sauegard of the Locrensians,
and his owne sonne thereupon taken in adultery, should
lose both his eyes, according to the lawe then made, and
yet notwithstanding, the whole Citie thought, to remit the
necessitie of his punishment, for the honour of his father,
Seleucus would none of that in any wise. Yet at last, through
importunitie being ouercome, he caused first one of his own
eyes to be pluckt out, and next after, one of his sonnes eyes,
leauing onely the vse of sight, to himselfe and his sonne.
Thus through equitie of the law, he vsed the due meane of
chastisement, shewing himselfe by a wonderfull temperature,
both a mercifull father, and a iust law maker. Now happie
are they that thus obserue a Lawe, thinking losse of bodie,
lesse hurt to the man, then sparing of punishment, meete for
the soule. For GOD will not faile them, that haue such
a desire to followe his will, but for his promise sake, he will
rewarde them for euer. And now, seing that Iustice
naturally is giuen to al men, without the which he could not
liue, being warned also by GOD, alwaies to doe vprightly,
perceiuing againe the commodities, that redounde vnto vs,
by liuing vnder a Lawe, and the sauegarde, wherein we stand,
hauing Iustice to assist vs: I trust that not onely all men, will
commend Iustice in worde, but also will liue iustly in deede,
the which that we may doe: God graunt vs of his grace.
Amen.
¶ An Oration deliberatiue.
AN Oration deliberatiue, is a meane, whereby we doe perswade,
or disswade, entreate, or rebuke, exhorte, or dehort,
commend, or comforte any man. In this kind of Oration,
wee doe not purpose wholy to praise any bodie, nor yet to
determine any matter in controuersie, but the whole compasse
of this cause is, either to aduise our neighbour to that thing,
which wee thinke most needefull for him, or els to call him
backe from that follie, which hindereth much his estimation.
As for example, if I would counsaile my friend to trauaile
beyond the Seas, for knowledge of the tongues, and experience
in forraine Countries: I might resort to this kinde of Oration,
and finde matter to confirme my cause plentifully. And the
reasons, which are commonly vsed to enlarge such matters,
are these that followe.
| {The thing is honest. | | {Saufe. |
| {Profitable. | | {Easie. |
| {Pleasaunt. | | {Hard. |
| {Lawfull and meete. | |
| {Praise worthie. | |
| {Necessarie. | |
| Honestie comprehendeth |
| all vertues. |
NOW in speaking of honestie, I may by deuision of the
vertues make a large walke. Againe, looke what lawes,
what customes, what worthie deedes, or sayinges haue been
vsed heretofore, all these might serue well for the confirmation
of this matter, lastly where honestie is called in to establish
a cause: there is nature and GOD himselfe present, from
| Profite how largely it |
| extendeth. Profite beareth |
| the name of goodnesse, |
| which is three folded. |
whom commeth all goodnesse. In the seconde place, where
I spake of profite, this is to be learned, that vnder the same
is comprehended the getting of gaine, and the eschuing of
harme. Againe, concerning profite (which also beareth the
name of goodnesse) it partly perteineth to the bodie, as
beautie, strength, and health, partly to the minde, as the
encrease of witte, the getting of experience, and heaping
together of much learning: and partly to fortune (as Philosophers
take it) whereby both wealth, honour, and friends are
gotten. Thus he that deuideth profite cannot want matter.
Thirdly, in declaring it is pleasant, I might heape together
| Pleasures, largely |
| set out. |
the varietie of pleasures, which come by trauaile, first the
sweetnesse of the tongue, the wholesomnes of the ayre in other
Countries, the goodly wittes of the Gentlemen, the straunge
and auncient buildings, the wonderfull Monuments, the great
learned Clarkes in al faculties, with diuers otherlike, &
almost infinite pleasures.
The easinesse of trauaile, may thus be perswaded, if we
shewe that free passage is by wholesome lawes appointed, for
al straungers and way fairers. And seeing this life is none
other thing but a trauell, and we as Pilgrimes, wander from
place to place, much fondnesse it were to thinke that hard,
which nature hath made easie, yea, and pleasaunt also. None
are more healthfull, none more lustie, none more merrie, none
more strong of bodie, then such as haue trauailed Countries.
| Trauaile vnto whom |
| it is hard. |
Mary vnto them, that had rather sleepe al day, then wake one
houre (chosing for any labor, slothfull idlenesse) thinking this
life to be none other, but a continuall resting place, vnto such
pardie, it shall seeme painefull to abide any labour. To learne
Logicke, to learne the Law, to some it seemeth so hard, that
nothing can enter into their heades: and the reason is, that
they want a will, and an earnest minde, to doe their endeuour.
| Good will makes great |
| burdeines light. |
For vnto a willing heart, nothing can be hard, lay lode on
such a mans back and his good heart, may soner make his
backe to ake, then his good will can graunt to yeeld, and
refuse the weight. And now where the sweete hath his sower
ioyned with him, it shalbe wisedome to speake somewhat of it,
to mitigate the sowernesse thereof, as much as may be possible.
That is lawfull and praise worthie, which Lawes doe graunt,
good men doe allowe, experience commendeth, and men in
all ages haue most vsed.
| Necessary two |
| waies taken. |
A thing is necessarie two maner of waies. First, when
either wee must doe some one thing, or els doe worse. As
if one should threaten a woman, to kill her if she would
not lye with him, wherein appeareth a forcible necessitie.
As touching trauaile we might say, either a man must bee
ignoraunt of many good thinges, and want great experience,
or els he must trauaile. Now to be ignoraunt, is a great
shame, therefore to trauaile is most needfull, if we will auoyde
shame. The other kind of necessitie is, when wee perswade
men to beare those thinges paciently, when wee perswade
men to beare those crosses paciently, which God doth send vs,
considering, will we, or nill we, needes must we abide them.
¶ To aduise one, to studie the lawes of England.
AGaine, when we see our frend enclined to any kind of
learning, we must counsaile him to take that way still, and
by reason perswade him, that it were the meetest way for him
to doe his Countrie most good. As if he giue his minde to
the lawes of the Realme, and finde an aptnesse therunto, we
may aduise him, to continue in his good entent, and by reason
perswade him, that it were most meete for him so to do.
| Vertues especiall & |
| chief, fower in number. |
And first we might shewe him that the studie is honest and
godly, considering it onely foloweth Iustice, and is grounded
wholy vpon naturall reason. Wherein we might take a large
scope, if we should fully speake of all thinges, that are
comprehended vnder honestie. For he that will knowe what
honestie is, must haue an vnderstanding, of all the vertues
together. And because the knowledge of them is most
necessarie, I will briefly set them forth. There are fower
especiall and chief vertues, vnder whom all other are comprehended.
| {Prudence, or wisedome. |
| {Iustice. |
| {Manhood. |
| {Temperaunce. |
PRudence, or wisedome (for I will here take them both
for one) is a vertue that is occupied euermore in searching
out the trueth. Now, we all loue knowledge, and haue a
desire to passe other therin, and think it shame to be ignoraunt:
and by studying the lawe, the trueth is gotten out, by knowing
the trueth, wisedome is attained. Wherefore, in perswading
one to studie the lawe, you may shewe him, that he shall get
wisedome thereby. Vnder this vertue are comprehended.
| {Memorie. |
| {Vnderstanding. |
| {Foresight. |
THE memorie, calleth to accompt those things, that were
done heretofore, and by a former remembraunce getteth
an after wit, and learneth to auoyde deceipt.
Vnderstanding, seeth thinges presently done, and perceiueth
what is in them, weighing and debating them, vntill his minde
be fully contented.
Foresight, is a gathering by coniectures, what shall happen,
and an euident perceiuing of thinges to come, before they doe
come.
Iustice.
Iustice is a vertue, gathered by long space, giuing euery one
his owne, minding in all thinges, the common profite of our
Countrey, whereunto man is most bound and oweth his full
obedience.
Now, Nature first taught man, to take this way, and would
euery one so to doe vnto an other, as he would be doen vnto
himselfe. For whereas Raine watereth al in like, the Sunne
shineth indifferently ouer all, the fruite of the earth encreaseth
equally. God warneth vs to bestowe our good will after the
same sorte, doing as duetie bindeth vs, and as necessitie shall
best require. Yea, God graunteth his giftes diuersly among
men, because hee would man should knowe and feele, that
man is borne for man, and that one hath neede of an other.
And therefore though nature hath not stirred some, yet
through the experience that man hath, concerning his commoditie:
many haue turned the lawe of nature into an
ordinarie custome, and followed the same as though they
were bound to it by a law. Afterward, the wisedome of
Princes, and the feare of Gods threate, which was vttered
by his worde, forced men by a lawe, both to allowe things
confirmed by nature, and to beare with old custome, or els
they should not onely suffer in body temporall punishment,
but also lose their soules for euer. Nature is a right that
phantasie hath not framed, but God hath graffed and giuen
man power thereunto, whereof these are deriued.
| {Religion, and acknowledging of God. |
| {Naturall loue to our children, and other. |
| {Thankfulnesse to all men. |
| {Stoutnesse, both to withstand and reuenge. |
| {Reuerence to the superiour. |
| {Assured and constaunt trueth in things. |
REligion, is an humble worshipping of GOD, acknowledging
him to be the creatour of Creatures, and the
onely giuer of all good things.
Naturall loue, is an inward good will, that we beare to
our parents, wife, children, or any other that be nigh of
kinne vnto vs, stirred thereunto not onely by our flesh,
thinking that like as we would loue our selues, so wee should
loue them, but also by a likenesse of minde: and therefore
generally we loue all, because all be like vnto vs, but yet we
loue them most, that both in bodie and mynd be most like
vnto vs. And hereby it commeth, that often we are liberall
and bestowe our goodes vpon the needie, remembring that
they are all one flesh with vs, and should not want when we
haue it, without our great rebuke and token of our most
vnkind dealing.
Thankfulnesse is a requiting of loue, for loue, and will, for
will, shewing to our freendes, the like goodnesse that we finde
in them: yea, striuing to passe them in kindnesse, losing
neither time nor tide to doe them good.
Stoutnesse to withstand and reuenge euil, is then vsed when
either we are like to haue harme, & doe withstand it, or els
when we haue suffered euill for the trueth sake, and thereupon
doe reuenge it, or rather punish the euill, which is in
the man.
Reuerence, is an humblenesse in outward behauour, when
we doe our duetie to them, that are our betters, or vnto such
as are called to serue the King in some greate vocation.
| Assured and |
| constant trueth. |
Assured and constant trueth is, when we do beleeue that
those things, which are, or haue bene, or hereafter are about
to be, can not otherwise be, by any meanes possible.
That is right by custome, which long time hath confirmed,
being partly grounded vpon nature, & partly vpon reason, as
where wee are taught by nature, to knowe the euer liuing
God, and to worship him in spirite, we turning natures light,
into blind custome, without Gods will, haue vsed at length
| Custome with our |
| natures ground |
| vngodly. |
to beleeue, that he was really with vs here in earth, and
worshipped him not in spirite, but in Copes, in Candlesticks,
in Belles, in Tapers, and in Censers, in Crosses, in Banners,
in shauen Crownes, and long Gownes, and many good
morowes els, deuised only by the phantasie of man, without
the expresse will of God. The which childish toyes, time
hath so long confirmed, that the trueth is scant able to trie
them out, our hearts be so hard, and our wits be so far to
seeke. Again, where we see by nature, that euery one should
deale truely, custome encreaseth natures wil, & maketh by
auncient demeane things to be iustly obserued, which nature
hath appointed.
| {Bargaining. |
| As | {Commons, or equalitie. |
| {Iudgement giuen. |
BArgaining is, when two haue agreed for the sale of some
one thing, the one will make his fellowe to stand to the
bargaine though it be to his neighbours vndoing, resting vpon
this point, that a bargaine is a bargaine, and must stande
without all exception, although nature requireth to haue
things doen by conscience, and would that bargaining should
be builded vpon iustice, whereby an vpright dealing, and
a charitable loue, is vttered amongst all men.
Commons or equalitie, is when the people by long time
haue a ground, or any such thing among them, the which
some of them will keep still for custome sake, and not suffer
it to be fenced, and so turned to pasture, though they might
gaine ten times the value: but such stubburnesse in keeping
of commons for custome sake, is not standing with Iustice,
because it is holden against al right.
Iudgement giuen, is when a matter is confirmed by a
Parliament, or a Lawe, determined by a Iudge, vnto the
which many hedstrong men will stand to dye for it, without
sufferaunce of any alteration, not remembring the circumstaunce
of things, and that time altereth good actes.
That is right by a law, when the trueth is vttered in
writing, and commaunded to be kept, euen as it is set forth
vnto them.
¶ Fortitude or manhood.
FOrtitude, is a considerate hassarding vpon daunger, and
a willing heart to take paines, in behalfe of the right.
Now, when can stoutnesse be better vsed, then in a iust maintenaunce
of the Lawe, and constaunt trying of the trueth:
Of this vertue, there are fower branches.
| {Honourablenesse. |
| {Stoutnesse. |
| {Sufferance. |
| {Continuance. |
HOnorablenesse is a noble ordering of weightie matters,
with a lustie heart, and a liberall vsing of his wealth, to
encrease of honour.
Stoutnesse, is an assured trust in himselfe, when he mindeth
the compasse of most weightie matters, and a couragious
defending of his cause.
Sufferaunce, is a willing and a long bearing of trouble and
taking of paines: for the maintenaunce of vertue, and the
wealth of his Countrey.
Continuance, is a stedfast and constaunt abiding, in a
purposed and well aduised matter, not yeelding to any man
in quarell of the right.
¶ Temperaunce.
TEmperance, is a measuring of affections according to
the will of reason, and a subduing of lust vnto the Square
of honestie. Yea, and what one thing doth soone mitigate
the immoderate passions of our nature, then the perfect
knowledge of right & wrong, & the iust execution appointed
by a law, for asswaging the wilfull? Of this vertue there are
three partes.
| {Sobrietie. |
| {Gentlenesse. |
| {Modestie. |
Sobrietie, is a brideling by discretion, the wilfulnesse of
desire.
Gentlenesse, is a caulming of heate, when we begin to rage,
and a lowly behauiour in al our bodie.
Modestie, is an honest shamefastnesse, whereby we keepe a
constant looke, & appere sober in all our outward doings. Now,
euen as we should desire the vse of al these vertues, so should
we eschue not only the contraries hereunto, but also auoid al such
euils, as by any meanes do withdrawe vs from well doing.
¶ It is profitable.
| Hope of reward |
| maketh men take paines. |
AFter we haue perswaded our freend, that the lawe is
honest, drawing our arguments from the heape of vertues,
wee must goe further with hym, and bryng him in good beleeue
that it is very gainfull. For many one seeke not the knowledge
of learning for ye goodnes sake, but rather take paines
for the gaine, which they see doeth arise by it. Take away
the hope of lucre, and you shall see fewe take any paines: no
not in the Vineyard of the Lorde. For although none should
followe any trade of life for the gaine sake, but euen as he
seeth it is most necessarie, for the aduauncement of Gods
glorie, and not passe in what estimation things are had in
this worlde: yet because we are all so weake of witte in our
tender yeres, that we can not weigh with our selues what is
best, and our bodie so nesh, that it loketh euer to be
cherished, we take that which is moste gainefull for vs, and
forsake that altogether, which wee ought most to followe.
So, that for lacke of honest meanes, and for want of good
order: the best way is not vsed, neither is Gods honour in
our first yeeres remembred. I had rather (sayde one) make
my child a Cobler, then a Preacher, a Tankerd bearer, then
a Scholer. For what shal my sonne seeke for learning, when
hee shall neuer get thereby any liuing? Set my sonne to that,
whereby he may get somewhat? Doe ye not see, how euery
one catcheth and pulleth from the Church what thei can?
I feare me one day, they wil pluck doune Church and all.
Call you this the Gospell, when men seeke onely to prouide
for their bellies, and care not a groate though their soules go
to Hell? A patrone of a Benefice, will haue a poore yngrame
soule, to beare the name of a Parson, for twentie marke or
ten pound: and the patrone him self, will take vp for his
snapshare, as good as an hundred marke. Thus God is
robbed, learning decaied, England dishonoured, and honestie
not regarded. The old Romaines not yet knowing Christ, and
yet being led by a reuerent feare towards God made this lawe.
Sacrum sacroue commendatum qui clepserit, rapseritue, paricida est.
| The Romaines lawes |
| for Church dignities. |
He that shall closely steale, or forciblie take awaie that thing
which is holy, or giuen to the holy place, is a murderer of his
countrey. But what haue I said? I haue a greater matter in
hande, then whereof I was aware, my penne hath runne ouer
farre, when my leasure serueth not, nor yet my witte is able
to talke this case in such wise, as it should bee, and as the
largenesse thereof requireth. Therefore, to my Lawyer againe,
whom I doubt not to perswade, but that he shal haue the
Deuill and al, if he learne a pace, and doe as some haue doen
before him. Therefore, I will shewe how largely this profite
extendeth, that I may haue him the soner take this matter in
hande. The law therefore, not onely bringeth much gaine
with it, but also aduaunceth men, both to worship, renowne,
and honour. All men shall seeke his fauour for his learning
sake, the best shall like his company for his calling: and his
wealth with his skill shall be such, that none shal be able to
work him any wrong. Some consider profite, by these circumstances
following.
| {To whom. |
| {When. |
| {Where. |
| {Wherefore. |
| Circumstances in |
| obseruing profite. |
NEther can I vse a better order, then these circumstaunces
minister vnto mee. To whom therefore is the
Law profitable? Marie, to them that be best learned, that
haue readie wittes, and will take paines. When is the law
profitable? Assuredly, both now and euermore, but especially
in this age, where all men goe together by the eares, for this
matter, and that matter. Such alteration hath beene heretofore,
that hereafter needes must ensue much alteration.
And where is al this a doe? Euen in little England, or in
Westminster hall, where neuer yet wanted businesse, nor yet
euer shal. Wherefore is the Law profitable? vndoubtedly,
because no man could hold his owne, if there were not an order
to staie vs, and a Lawe to restraine vs. And I praie you, who
getteth the money? The Lawiers no doubt. And were not
| Folly in many that |
| go to the Lawe. |
Land sometimes cheaper bought, then got by the triall of
a Law? Do not men commonly for trifles fall out? Some for
lopping of a Tree, spendes all that euer they haue, an other
for a Gose that graseth vpon his ground, tries the lawe so
hard, that he proues himself a Gander. Now, when men be
so mad, is it not easie to get money among them? Undoubtedly,
| Lawyers, neuer |
| dye beggers. |
the Lawier neuer dieth a begger. And no maruaile.
For an C. begges for him, and makes awaie all that they haue,
to get that of him, the which, the oftener he bestoweth, the
more still he getteth. So that he gaineth alwaies, aswel by
encrease of learning, as by storing his purse with money,
whereas the other get a warme Sunne oftentimes, and a flappe
with a Foxe taile, for all that euer they haue spent. And why
would they? Tush if it were to doe againe, they would doe
it: therefore, the Lawyer can neuer want liuing till the earth
want men and all be voyde.
¶ The Lawe easie to many,
and hard to some.
I Doubt not, but my Lawyer is perswaded that the Lawe is
profitable, now must I beare him in hand that it is an easie
matter to become a Lawier. The which, if I shall bee able
to proue. I doubt not, but he will proue a good Lawyer,
and that right shortly: the Lawe is grounded vpon reason.
And what hardnesse is it for a man by a reason, to finde out
reason. That can not be straunge vnto him, the ground
whereof is graffed in his breast. What, though the Lawe be
in a straunge tongue, the wordes may bee gotte without any
paine, when the matter it self is compast with ease. Tush,
a little Lawe will make a greate shewe, and therefore, though
it bee much to become excellent, yet it is easie to get a taste.
And surely for getting of money, a little will doe asmuch
good oftentymes, as a great deale. There is not a word in
the Law, but it is a grote in the Lawiers purse. I haue
knowne diuers, that by familiar talking and mouting together,
haue come to right good learning, without any great booke
skill, or much beating of their braine, by any close studie or
secret musing in their Chamber. But where some saie the
Lawe is very hard, and discourage yong men from the studie
thereof, it is to bee vnderstande of such as will take no paines
at al, nor yet mind the knowledge thereof. For what is
not hard to man, when he wanteth will to doe his best. As
good sleepe, and say it is hard: as wake and take no paines.
| {Godlie. |
| The Lawe. | {Iuste. |
| {Necessarie. |
| {Pleasaunt. |
WHat needeth mee, to prooue the Lawe to be Godly,
iust, or necessarie, seeing it is grounded vpon Gods
will, and all Lawes are made for the maintenaunce of Iustice.
If we wil not beleeue that it is necessarie, let vs haue Rebels
againe to disturbe the Realme. Our nature is so fonde, that
we knowe not the necessitie of a thing, till wee finde some
lacke of the same. Bowes are not esteemed, as they haue
beene among vs Englishmen, but if we were once well beaten
by our enemies, we should soone knowe the want, and with
feeling the smart, lament much our folly. Take away the
Law, and take away our liues, for nothing maintaineth our
wealth, our health, and the sauegard of our bodies, but the
Law of a Realme, whereby the wicked are condemned, and
the Godly are defended.
¶ An Epistle to perswade a yong Gentleman to mariage,
deuised by Erasmus, in the behalfe of his freend.
ALbeit, you are wise enough of your selfe, through that
singulare wisedome of yours (most louing Cosine) and
litle needes the aduise of other, yet either for that olde
freendshippe, which hath bene betwixt vs, and continued
with our age, euen from our Cradles, or for such your great
good turnes, shewed at all times towardes me, or els for that
fast kinred and aliaunce, which is betwixt vs: I thought my
self thus much to owe vnto you, if I would be such a one in
deed, as you euer haue taken mee, that is to say, a man both
freendly and thankfull, to tell you freely (whatsoeuer I iudged
to appertaine either to the sauegard or worship of you, or any
of yours) and willingly to warne you of the same. Wee are
better seen oftentimes in other mens matters, then we are in
our owne. I haue felt often your aduise in mine owne
affaires, and I haue found it to be fortunate vnto me, as it
was frendly. Now, if you will likewise in your owne
matters, follow my counsaile. I trust it shall so come to
passe, that neither I shall repent me, for that I haue giuen you
counsaile, not yet you shall forethinke your selfe, that you haue
obeyed and followed mine aduise.
There was at supper with me the twelue day of Aprill, when
I laie in the Countrie, Antonius Baldus, a man (as you
knowe) that most earnestly tendereth your welfare, and one
that hath been alwaies of great acquaintaunce, and familiaritie
with your sonne in Lawe: a heauie feast wee had, and full of
much mourning. He tolde me greatly to both our heauinesse,
that your mother that most Godly woman, was departed this
life, and your sister being ouercome with sorowe and heauinesse,
had made her self a Nunne, so that in you only
remaineth the hope of issue, and maintenance of your stocke.
Whereupon your freends with one consent, haue offered you
in Mariage, a Gentlewoman of a good house, and much
wealth, faire of bodie, very well brought vp, and such a one
as loueth you with all her heart. But you (either for your
late sorowes, which you haue in fresh remembraunce, or els
for religion sake) haue so purposed to liue a single life, that
neither can you for loue of your stock, neither for desire of
Issue, nor yet for any entreatie of your freendes can make,
either by praying, or by weeping: be brought to chaunge
your minde. And yet notwithstanding all this (if you will
followe my counsayle) you shall be of an other minde, and
leauing to liue single, whiche both is barraine, and smally
agreeing with the state of mans Nature, you shal giue your
selfe wholy to most holy Wedlocke. And for this parte,
I will neither wish, that the loue of your freends (which els
ought to ouercome your nature) nor yet mine authoritie that
I haue ouer you, should doe me any good at all, to compasse
this my request, if I shall not proue vnto you by most plaine
reasons, that it will be both much more honest, more profitable,
and also most pleasant for you to marrie, then to liue
otherwise. Yea, what will you say if I proue it also, to be
necessary for you at this tyme to marrie. And first of all, if
honestie may moue you in this matter (the which among all
good men, ought to bee of much weight) what is more honest
then Matrimonie, the which Christ himselfe did make honest,
when not onely hee, vouchsaued to bee at the Mariage with
his mother, but also did consecrate the Mariage feast, with
the first miracle, that euer hee did vpon earth? What is more
holy then Matrimonie, which the Creatour of all things did
institute, did fasten and make holy, and nature it selfe did
establish? What is more prayse worthie, then that thing, the
which, whosoeuer shall dispraise, is condemned straight for an
Heretique? Matrimonie, is euen as honourable, as the name
of an Heretique is thought shamefull. What is more right
or meete, then to giue that vnto the posteritie, the which we
haue receiued of our auncesters? What is more inconsiderate,
then vnder the desire of holinesse, to eschue that as vnholy,
| Right and meete |
| to marrie. |
which God himself, the fountaine and father of all holinesse,
would haue to be compted is most holy? What is more
vnmanly then that man should goe against the lawes of
mankind? What is more vnthankfull, then to denie that vnto
younglings, the which (if thou haddest not receiued of thine
elders) thou couldest not haue bene the man liuing, able to
haue denied it vnto them. That if you would knowe, who
| Mariage first |
| made by God. |
was the first founder of Mariage, you shall vnderstande, that
it came not vp by Licurgus, nor yet by Moses, nor yet by
Solon: but it was first ordeined and instituted, by the cheefe
founder of all things, commended by the same, made honourable,
and made holy by the same. For, at the first when he
made man of the earth, he did perceiue that his life should be
miserable and vnsauerie, except he ioyned Eue as mate vnto
| After man was made, |
| the woman was ioyned |
| vnto him. |
| Matrimonie renewed |
| after the flood. |
him. Whereupon he did not make the wife vpon the same
clay, whereof he made man: but he made her of Adams
Ribbes, to the end we might plainly vnderstande, that nothing
ought to be more deare vnto vs then our wife, nothing more
nigh vnto vs, nothing surer ioyned, and (as a man would saie)
faster glewed together. The self same God, after the generall
flood being reconciled to mankinde, is said to proclaime this
law first of all, not that men should liue single, but that they
should encrease, bee multiplied and fill the earth. But howe
I pray you could this thing bee, sauing by Mariage and
lawfull comming together? And first least we should alledge
here, either the libertie of Moses lawe, or els the necessitie of
that tyme: what other meaning els, hath that common and
| Natures worke, |
| allowed by Gods |
| worde. |
commendable report of Christ in the Gospell, for this cause
(saieth he) shall man leaue father and mother, and cleaue to
his wife. And what is more holy then the reuerence and
loue due vnto parents? And yet the trueth promised in
Matrimonie, is preferred before it, and by whose meanes?
Marie by God himself, at what time? Forsooth not only
among the Iewes, but also among the Christians. Men
forsake father and mother, and takes themselues wholy to
their wiues. The sonne being past twentie yeeres, is free and
at libertie. Yea, the sonne being abdicated be commeth no
sonne. But it is death onely that parteth maried folke, if yet
death doth parte them. Nowe, if the other Sacraments
(whereunto the Church of Christ chiefly leaneth) be reuerently
vsed, who doeth not see, that this Sacrament, should
haue the most reuerence of all, the which was instituted of
God, and that first and before all other. As for the other,
they were instituted vpon earth, this was ordeined in Paradise:
the other were giuen for a remedie, this was appointed for
the felowship of felicitie: the other were applied to mans
nature, after the fal this only was giuen, when man was in
most perfite state. If we coumpt those Lawes good, that
mortall men haue enacted, shall not the lawe of Matrimonie
bee most holy, which wee haue receiued of him, by whom we
haue receiued life, the which Lawe was then together enacted,
when man was first created? And lastly, to strengthen this
Lawe, with an example and deede doen, Christ being a yong
man (as the storie reporteth) was called to Mariage, and came
| Mariage beautified |
| by a miracle. |
thether willingly with his mother, and not only was he there
present, but also he did honest the feast with a wonderfull
maruaile, beginning first in none other place, to worke his
wonders and to doe his miracles. Why then I praie you (will
one saie) how happeneth it, that Christ forbare Mariage? As
though good sir, there are not many things in Christ, at the
which we ought rather to maruaile, then seeke to follow.
He was borne, and had no father, he came into this world,
without his mothers painfull trauaile, he came out of the
graue when it was closed vp, what is not in him aboue
nature? Let these things be proper vnto him. Let vs that
liue within the bounds of nature, reuerence those things that
are aboue nature, and followe such things as are within our
reache, such as wee are able to compasse. But yet (you say)
hee would bee borne of a virgin: of a virgin (I graunt) but
yet of a maried virgin. A virgin being a mother did moste
become God, and being maried, she shewed what was best for
vs to do. Virginitie did become her, who being vndefiled
brought him forth by heauenly inspiration, that was vndefiled.
And yet Ioseph being her housbande, doeth commend vnto
vs the lawe of chast Wedlock. Yea, how could he better set
out the societie in Wedlocke, than that willing to declare the
secrete societie of his Diuine nature, with the bodie and soule
of man which is wonderfull, euen to the heauenly Angels,
and to shewe his vnspeakable and euer abiding loue toward
his church: He doth call himself the Bridegrome, and her the
bride. Greate is the Sacrament of Matrimonie (saieth Paule)
betwixt Christ and his Church. If there had been vnder
heauen, any holier yoke, if there had bene any more religious
couenaunt, then is Matrimonie, without doubt the example
thereof had bene vsed. But what like thing to you reade in
all scripture of the single life? The Apostle S. Paule in the
thirteene Chapter of his Epistle to the Hebrues, calleth
Matrimonie honorable among all men, and the bed vndefiled,
& yet the single life is not so much as once named in the
same place. Nay, they are not borne withall that liue single,
except they make some recompence, with doing some great
thing. For els, if a man following the law of Nature, doe
labour to get children, he is euer to be preferred before him,
that liueth still vnmaried, for none other end, but because
he would bee out of trouble, and liue more free. We doe
reade, that such as are in very deede chast of their body, and
liue a virgines life, haue bene praised: but the single life was
neuer praised of it selfe. Now, againe the law of Moses,
accursed the barrennesse of maried folk: and we doe reade
that some were excommunicated, for the same purpose, and
banished from the Altar. And wherfore I praie you? Marie
sir, because that they like vnprofitable persons, and liuing
onely to themselues, did not encrease the worlde with any
issue. In Deuteronomi, it was the cheefest token of Gods
blessinges vnto the Israelites, that none should be barren
among them, neither man, nor yet woman. And Lia is
thought to be out of Gods fauour because she could not bring
forth children. Yea, and the Psalme of Dauid. 128. it is
coumpted on of the cheefest partes of blisse, to be a fruitfull
woman. Thy wife (saieth the Psalme) shalbe plentifull like
a Vine. And thy children like the branches of Oliues, round
about thy table. Then if the law doe condemne, and vtterly
disalowe barren Matrimonie, it hath alwaies muche more
condemned the single life of Batchlars. If the fault of nature
| Hebrues law for |
| maried folke. |
hath not escaped blame, the will of man can neuer want
rebuke. If they are accursed that would haue children, and
can get none, what deserue thei which neuer trauaile to escape
barrennes? The Hebrues had such a reuerence to maried
folke, that he which had maried a wife, the same yeere should
not be forced to goe on warfare. A Citie is like to fal to
ruine, except there be watchmen to defend it with armor.
But assured destruction must here nedes folow, except men
through the benefite of mariage supplie issue, the which
through mortalitie, doe from time to time decaie.
| Plutarchus in the |
| life of Cato. |
Ouer and besides this, the Romaines did laie a penaltie
vpon their backe, that liued a single life, yea, they would not
suffer them to beare any office in the Commonweale. But
they that had encreased the world with issue, had a rewarde
by common assent, as men that did deserue well of their
countrey. The olde foren lawes did appoint penalties for
such as liued single, the which although, they were qualified
by Constancius the Emperour, in the fauour of Christes
Religion: yet these lawes doe declare, how little it is for the
common weales aduauncement, that either a Citie should be
lesned for loue of sole life, or els that the Countrey should be
filled full of Bastards. And besides this, the Emperour
Augustus, being a sore punisher of euill behauiour, examined
a soldiour because he did not marie his wife, according to
the lawes, the which soldiour had hardly escaped iudgement,
if he had not got three children by her. And in this point
doe the lawes of the Emperours, seeme fauourable to maried
folke, that they abrogate such vowes, as were proclaimed to
be kept, and brought in by Miscella, and would that after the
penaltie were remitted, such couenaunts being made against
all right and conscience, should also be taken of none effect,
and as voyde in the lawe. Ouer and besides this, Vlpianus
doth declare, that the matter of Dowries was euermore, and
in al places the chiefest aboue all other, the which should
neuer haue been so, except there came to the Common weale,
some esp |