A14350:654
The common places of the most famous and renowned divine Doctor Peter Martyr divided into four principal parts: with a large addition of many theological and necessary discourses, some never extant before. Translated and partly gathered by Anthony Marten, one of the sewers of her Majesties most honourable chamber.The common places of the most famous and renowmed diuine Doctor Peter Martyr diuided into foure principall parts: with a large addition of manie theologicall and necessarie discourses, some neuer extant before. Translated and partlie gathered by Anthonie Marten, one of the sewers of hir Maiesties most honourable chamber.
Imprinted at London : In Pater noster Rowe, by Henry Denham and Henry Middleton at the costs and charges of Henry Denham, Thomas Chard, William Broome, and Andrew Maunsell, 1583Imprinted at London : In Pater noster Rovve, by Henry Denham and Henry Middleton at the costs and charges of Henrie Denham, Thomas Chard, VVilliam Broome, and Andrew Maunsell, 1583
No title page in the transcription: set from the catalogue record.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
22 Furthermore, 1how friendship doth fortify men with excellent helps, to the leading of a good life, may be gathered sufficiently by good writers, and by humane custom. But he is far more to be reproved, which hath ill friends, than he which hath corrupt children. For sometimes it may so happen, that through an ill nature, what diligence so ever be used in education, we cannot have such children as we would: but there is no excuse, if we have ill friends; because we make a choice of them, and they may be forsaken. Moreover, the loss of these (I mean of honest children and friends) Aristotle testifieth, may be a great hinderance unto blessedness; because their death cannot be without great sorrow and mourning. And although we suffer those calamities with an indifferent mind, if we be endued with the virtue of fortitude; yet are we subject thereunto not without detriment, which detriment no doubt doth not a little blemish our felicity.
22 Furthermore, 1how fréendship dooth fortifie men with excellent helps, to the leading of a good life, may be gathered sufficientlie by good writers, and by humane custome. But he is far more to be reprooued, which hath ill fréends, than he which hath corrupt children. For sometimes it may so happen, that through an ill nature, what diligence so euer be vsed in education, we cannot haue such children as we would: but there is no excuse, if we haue ill fréends; bicause we make a choise of them, and they may be forsaken. Moreouer, the losse of these (I meane of honest children and fréends) Aristotle testifieth, may be a great hinderance vnto blessednes; bicause their death cannot be without great sorrowe and mourning. And although we suffer those calamities with an indifferent mind, if we be indued with the vertue of fortitude; yet are we subiect therevnto not without detriment, which detriment no doubt dooth not a little blemish our felicitie.
Neither doth the holy scripture disagree touching the commendation of outward good things: for as concerning children, 1they be promised of GOD; Thy children shall be like the olive branches. And among other blessings, this is reckoned up, that there should not be untimely births in Israel. 2And in many places there is promised abundance of children to them that fear him. Which self-same thing we may easily know as touching riches. God enriched Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the rest of their friends. He granted of his own accord riches unto Solomon, 3which desired wisdom. And he would that his people, if they behaved themselves well, should so abound in riches, that they might lend unto other nations; but not borrow of them. Nobility was in such estimation with the people of God, as every family would have his own genealogies, wherein they reckoned up their ancestors among the heads of the tribes of the children of Israel. And the priests, which in the time of Esdras could not do this, were removed from their place and office. Yea, and the Evangelists Luke and Matthew rehearsed the genealogy of Christ, 4least he should seem to be of an unknown stock according to the flesh. Again, the apostle in the ninth chapter to the Romans described what nobility the Israelites were of; 5To whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and the law that was given, and the covenant, and the service of God; of whom are the fathers, of whom as concerning the flesh Christ came, which is above all things, &c.
Neither dooth the holie scripture disagrée touching the commendation of outward good things: for as concerning children, 1they be promised of GOD; Thy children shall be like the oliue branches. And among other blessings, this is reckoned vp, that there should not be vntimelie births in Israel. 2And in manie places there is promised abundance of children to them that feare him. Which selfe-same thing we may easilie knowe as touching riches. God inriched Abraham, Isaac, Iacob, and the rest of their fréends. He granted of his owne accord riches vnto Salomon,
A beauty of the body I showed before, was granted unto those two kings Saul and David. I showed also that the same was so requisite in the priests, as none that was lame, blind, crook-backed, 1or blemished with any notable deformity, might execute the room of high priest. Moreover, that friendship might increase among the Hebrews, God provided specially by his laws: all which, if they be narrowly considered, do serve very much for the joining of men together. Wherefore these things, which Aristotle hath rehearsed, must not be rejected; yet as touching felicity, there must be no more ascribed to them than is meet. It is said indeed in the book of Ecclesiastes, the tenth chapter, that Unto money all things are obedient. 2But that sentence is rehearsed as a common saying of the people, not as a true saying, but that thereby mans error might be reproved. Nay rather, the scriptures else-where do teach, namely, in the 17. chapter of the Proverbs; What do riches profit a fool, 3seeing he cannot buy wisdom for himself? These things then being some-what narrowly and diligently considered, we say that these gifts of God are not to be contemned, seeing they further very much to the good and right execution of many civill duties belonging to blessedness; but we must not rely altogether upon them: yea rather, if at any time we want these good things, the true and perfect felicity, which we seek for, is not for this cause taken away. And if we, for the name of Christ, and confession of his faith, be deprived of these things; so far is it off, that true blessedness is blemished, as it is rather made a great deal the more excellent.
A beautie of the bodie I shewed before, was graunted vnto those two kings Saule and Dauid. I shewed also that the same was so requisit in the préests, as none that was lame, blind, crooke-backed, 1or blemished with anie notable deformitie, might execute the roome of high préest. Moreouer, that frendship might increase among the Hebrues, God prouided speciallie by his lawes: all which, if they be narrowlie considered, doo serue verie much for the ioining of men together. Wherefore these things, which Aristotle hath rehearsed, must not be reiected; yet as touching felicitie, there must be no more ascribed to them than is méet. It is said indéed in the booke of Ecclesiastes, the tenth chapter, that Vnto monie all things are obedient.
First that poverty is no let unto us, it appeareth, seeing not the least part of the saints was collected of poor men. And Christ commanded the young man, 1that he should sell that which he had, and give it to the poor; whom nevertheless he would without all doubt have made happy, which in very deed could not have bin done [if poverty had bin a hinderance unto felicity.] Yea, and Antisthenes and Crates the Theban, that they might in their philosophy be made the more happy, cast from them their money and treasure. And the Lord promised a hundred fold, 2and eternal life to them, which for his sake should lose all things which are of this kind. What shall we say as touching nobility? 3Look to your calling (saith Paul) not many wise, not many mighty, not many noble are called, &c. Also, the lack of children is no let, for in the 56. chapter of Isaiah, the Eunuchs are said to have the better place in the house of God, not in respect they be Eunuchs, or lead a single life; 4but in as much as they shall more diligently keep the commandments of God than other men. In like manner, if friendships fail, they exclude not men from true felicity; seeing it cometh to pass sometime, that for the name of Christ, the godly are become hated of all men, which nevertheless is not against Aristotle, seeing he writeth but of a politic or civill blessedness.
First that pouertie is no let vnto vs, it appeareth, séeing not the least part of the saincts was collected of poore men. And Christ commanded the yoong man, 1that he should sell that which he had, and giue it to the poore; whome neuerthelesse he would without all doubt haue made happie, which in verie déed could not haue bin done [if pouertie had bin a hinderance vnto felicitie.] Yea, and Antisthenes and Crates the Theban, that they might in their philosophie be made the more happie, cast from them their monie and treasure. And the Lord promised a hundreth fold,
23 Eustratius in expounding of Aristotle, (who in the tenth book of his Ethics affirmeth contemplation to be the chiefest perfection of our felicity) saith, that There be some which are not men exercised in civill and politic administration, but altogether given to contemplation, and these separate themselves from domesticall and civill cares, and do fly from company and society; yea, and they study all that they can, to be severed even from their own flesh, whereof it comes to pass, that to the obtaining of felicity, there needeth not (as Aristotle would) the goods of the mind, for the teaching, counselling, and ruling of others; nor the goods of the body, for defending of their country; nor yet the goods of fortune, for relieving, succouring, and helping of the poor: and that only it is enough to apply the mind to understanding and contemplation. And he saith, that these men have a hard felicity, because they be as it were at war with nature, not seeking in deed to destroy the body or flesh; but provide this, that those things may be no impediment to their contemplation. And therefore, since this is a more private life, it needeth not many things. But he saith, that Aristotle spake not of these men, which he testified when he saith, that By nature a man is civill: and they which are of this sort, unless they minister to their elders and parents those things which be necessary, and also unto their posterity, wife, friends, and citizens, they have a maimed and unperfect felicity, although they be furnished with many good things. And the diminishing of their felicity is either more or less, according as they shall more or less want those good things which we have recited. It belongeth therefore unto a happy man, to have a care of all those things, which I have recited; which if he may commodiously do, he hath enough, and may be content; otherwise he shall not be counted happy.
23 Eustratius in expounding of Aristotle, (who in the tenth booke of his Ethiks affirmeth contemplation to be the chéefest perfection of our felicitie) saith, that There be some which are not men exercised in ciuill and politike administration, but altogether giuen to contemplation, and these separate themselues from domesticall and ciuill cares, and do flie from companie and societie; yea, and they studie all that they can, to be seuered euen from their owne flesh, whereof it coms to passe, that to the obteining of felicitie, there néedeth not (as Aristotle would) the goods of the mind, for the teaching, counselling, and ruling of others; nor the goods of the bodie, for defending of their countrie; nor yet the goods of fortune, for reléeuing, succouring, and helping of the poore: and that onlie it is inough to applie the mind to vnderstanding and contemplation. And he saith, that these men haue a hard felicitie, bicause they be as it were at war with nature, not séeking in déed to destroie the bodie or flesh; but prouide this, that those things may be no impediment to their contemplation. And therefore, since this is a more priuate life, it néedeth not manie things. But he saith, that Aristotle spake not of these men, which he testified when he saith, that By nature a man is ciuill: and they which are of this sort, vnlesse they minister to their elders and parents those things which be necessarie, and also vnto their posteritie, wife, frends, and citizens, they haue a maimed and vnperfect felicitie, although they be furnished with manie good things. And the diminishing of their felicitie is either more or lesse, according as they shall more or lesse want those good things which we haue recited. It belongeth therefore vnto a happie man, to haue a care of all those things, which I haue recited; which if he may commodiouslie doo, he hath inough, and may be content; otherwise he shall not be counted happie.
These things I thought good to rehearse out of the doctrine of Eustratius; to whose opinion I subscribe not. For in that he will have any man so to live alone, that he should give himself only to contemplation, and be hidden from the company of other men, forsaking the duties of ⟨p. 150⟩charity, and other virtues toward them, is both against philosophy and divinity. For the philosophers cry out generally, that men are not borne to themselves; and declare that it is mans nature to help others, and in like manner to be holpen of others. Moreover, there wants no testimonies of the holy scriptures, whereby such a kind of life is condemned. 1Paul said; that None ought to seek their own, but that all should be done to the edification of our neighbours. And God commanded in the law, that the parents should be honoured; which precept in very deed commandeth the maintenance of them. And the parents are commanded, 2that they should diligently and earnestly instruct their children. Neither are there laws wanting of wedlock, o• defending and preserving of friends, and of the poor. Yea and Paul unto Timothy said; He that hath cast away the care of his own, 3and especially of his own household, hath denied his faith, & is worse than an infidel. Wherefore it is not lawful for any man to choose to himself so solitary a life, as he will set apart the care of other men. True indeed it is, that Aristotle treateth severally of civill life and function, & also of life contemplative; but yet not for this purpose, that any man should wholly addict himself to one of these lives: but to the intent, that whosoever aspireth to felicity, may know, that he is not able to obtain the same, except in an excellent sort he be partaker of both these estates of life.
These things I thought good to rehearse out of the doctrine of Eustratius; to whose opinion I subscribe not. For in that he will haue anie man so to liue alone, that he should giue himselfe onlie to contemplation, and be hidden from the companie of other men, forsaking the duties of ⟨p. 150⟩
1Two properties doubtless there be of our nature; for nature it self hath made us both men of understanding and civill. Wherefore in our actions we must answer to both conditions; namely, that when they happen unto us in our actions, we may execute them as we ought, and according to virtue. Again, that when any leisure serveth us, or that by any chance we are let from doing of things, then we to be occupied with great pleasure in the contemplation of divine and humane things; that so these actions, which in kind seem to be divers, may help one another. For if a man be exercised in moral and civill virtues, in governing of a family & common-weal, to the intent he may have the more ready and quiet mind in the helping and succouring of his friends, it so comes to pass, that he returneth the more apt to contemplation. And on the other side, when any man, by reason of his leisure, shall be in earnest contemplation of divine and humane things, he is afterward thought to be much the readier to do other affairs. This we know did Tully, Cato, Pompeius, Lucullus, and such like singular men among the Ethnics. And we read in the holy scriptures, that Christ our saviour did sometimes withdraw himself unto the mountains, and woods, that he might pray and meditate of divine things; but within awhile he returned to the people, and was all manner of ways a help unto mankind. The very same thing did John Baptist, Elijah, and other the prophets. Yea, and the same Jesus our Lord first taught his apostles in the wilderness; afterward he sent them out into Judea, to preach & to heal them that were sick. So then let there be two kinds of life, but yet not in such sort, that any man should perpetually be addicted to any one of them.
1Two properties doubtlesse there be of our nature; for nature it selfe hath made vs both men of vnderstanding and ciuill. Wherefore in our actions we must answere to both conditions; namelie, that when they happen vnto vs in our actions, we may execute them as we ought, and according to vertue. Againe, that when anie leisure serueth vs, or that by anie chance we are let from dooing of things, then we to be occupied with great pleasure in the contemplation of diuine and humane things; that so these actions, which in kind séeme to be diuers, may helpe one another. For if a man be exercised in morall and ciuill vertues, in gouerning of a familie & common-weale, to the intent he may haue the more readie and quiet mind in the helping and succoring of his fréends, it so coms to passe, that he returneth the more apt to contemplation. And on the other side, when anie man, by reason of his leisure, shall be in earnest contemplation of diuine and humane things, he is afterward thought to be much the readier to doo other affairs. This we knowe did Tullie, Cato, Pompeius, Lucullus, and such like singular men among the Ethniks. And we read in the holie scriptures, that Christ our sauiour did somtimes withdrawe himselfe vnto the mountaines, and woods, that he might praie and meditate of diuine things; but within awhile he returned to the people, and was all manner of waies a helpe vnto mankind. The verie same thing did Iohn Baptist, Elias, and other the prophets. Yea, and the same Iesus our Lord first taught his apostles in the wildernes; afterward he sent them out into Iudaea, to preach & to heale them that were sicke. So then let there be two kinds of life, but yet not in such sort, that anie man should perpetuallie be addicted to anie one of them.
24 Among some of the philosophers virtue was taken to be the chiefest good, 1which Aristotle refelled on this wise; It behooveth that the chief good be perfect, But virtue is not perfect, Therefore it must not be counted the chiefest good. The major proposition appeareth: for if it be not a perfect chief good, our desire resteth not therein, but will desire moreover some other chief good. The minor proposition; namely, that virtue is not perfect, is proved; because it is an habit, that is, a power not in act: & it may oftentimes be in the subject without the action thereof, as a thing that many ways may be stopped; as by sleep, & by taking away of the occasion, if matter be wanting, and when afflictions, sickness, and misfortunes do disquiet us. This opinion, which placeth the chiefest good in virtue it self, is of all other that we have heretofore recited most near unto truth, and therefore it hath had great and grave patrons. But how it draweth near unto the truth, hereby we easily gather; that there is none more certain nor surer preparation unto felicity than virtue: for from the habit of virtue proceedeth that action, which is affirmed by Aristotle to be very felicity: virtue therefore is the nearest power or faculty unto felicity. 2But why the same cannot be the chiefest good, & felicity it self, it is cause enough, that it is referred unto a further end. For to what purpose do we procure unto our selves the habits of virtues, but that we may the more easily and readily do well? Wherefore, since that virtue is directed unto action, action shall be better and more to be desired than it.
24 Among some of the philosophers vertue was taken to be the chéefest good, 1which Aristotle refelled on this wise; It behooueth that the chéefe good be perfect, But vertue is not perfect, Therefore it must not be counted the chéefest good. The maior proposition appéereth: for if it be not a perfect chéefe good, our desire resteth not therein, but will desire moreouer some other chéefe good. The minor proposition; namelie, that vertue is not perfect, is prooued; bicause it is an habit, that is, a power not in act: & it may oftentimes be in the subiect without the action therof, as a thing that manie waies may be stopped; as by sléepe, & by taking awaie of the occasion, if matter be wanting, and when afflictions, sicknes, and misfortunes doo disquiet vs. This opinion, which placeth the chéefest good in vertue it selfe, is of all other that we haue hertofore recited most néere vnto truth, and therefore it hath had great and graue patrones. But how it draweth néere vnto the truth, hereby we easilie gather; that there is none more certeine nor surer preparation vnto felicitie than vertue: for from the habit of vertue procéedeth that action, which is affirmed by Aristotle to be verie felicitie: vertue therefore is the néerest power or facultie vnto felicitie.
I am not ignorant, 1that they which are wont to hold with the Stoics, have been accustomed to object against the Peripatetics, saying that they, while they appoint virtue to be the chiefest good, do not understand it, as it is in the power, and lieth without act; but do take the same as it is joined with her action: & so laugh Aristotle to scorn, which objected not against them, but ⟨p. 151⟩an idle virtue, and severed from right action. This answer at the first sight seems unto some to be just, and likely to be true: but if the thing be more narrowly considered, and that we shall more diligently look into the same, it is rather a shift, than a true dissolving of the argument; because whether they will or no, action, and virtue, from whence it proceedeth, are distinguished [one from another:] for they be contained in sundry Predicaments, and are many times severed one from another. For virtue, when it is an habit, belongeth unto quality; but the act which it worketh, is comprehended under the Predicament of action. But how they be severed one from another, I think no man that diligently considereth the matter, is ignorant: for he which is endued with knowledge or wisdom, doth neither contemplate always, nor yet is always occupied about those things which he knoweth. Whereupon it cometh to pass, that they which comprehend two for one, and distinguish them not, do easily swerve from the mark, whereunto they should have an aim; and in stead of an absolute and perfect doctrine, do follow that which is confused and not plain. This Aristotle perceiving distinguished and severed one of them from another, and when he seeth that one of them is referred to the other, he denieth that that which tendeth to another end can be the chief: which reason of his opinion is so evident, as I think nothing can be more manifest than the same. But they which cannot confute the reason, do return the argument upon Aristotle himself, who denieth that felicity is therefore placed in virtue, because virtue may easily & many ways be hindered.
I am not ignorant, 1that they which are woont to hold with the Stoiks, haue béene accustomed to obiect against the Peripatetikes, saieng that they, while they appoint vertue to be the chéefest good, doo not vnderstand it, as it is in the power, and lieth without act; but doo take the same as it is ioined with hir action: & so laugh Aristotle to scorne, which obiected not against them, but
1If this argument (say they) like thee so well, neither canst thou indeed defend the most perfect action to be the chiefest good; because the same also is as many ways subject to impediments, as thou didst object against virtue. For he which sleepeth doth not contemplate; neither can he do the same, which is vexed with grievous torments; and he cannot endure any perils, which liveth in quiet & peaceable commonweals. Wherefore thou that sayest that virtue, for these causes, is not the chiefest good; thou shalt also say, that the most perfect action must not be accounted for felicity. A show indeed of truth this hath, which is objected, but it maketh no matter at all; because the Peripatetics will easily grant, that the same most perfect action, which they say is felicity, is not continued so as it cannot be broken off; but so long as it is, they would not grant it to be no felicity, and much less will they yield that the same is referred to a better end. Both which things cannot be said of the habit which is virtue. For the same, as it is in a man that sleepeth, or is vexed with most painful griefs, can neither he called felicity, nor yet can make him blessed in whose mind it is: for the habit may remain, when the action is taken away; but an action being let from breaking forth, neither is it, nor yet remaineth it. And besides this, an habit, while it yet remaineth hindered, who seeth not that it is still referred unto action, when as it inclineth the mind and desire thereunto. Moreover, that should be accounted our felicity, which approacheth most near unto the divine felicity; but God, seeing he is not only perfect, but even perfection it self, hath felicity in act, not in power; in very deed, not in habit; therefore our felicity also shall be an action: which notwithstanding is requisite to be less than the blessedness of God, which therefore happeneth; because his act cannot fail him, but ours is very oftentimes broken off.
1If this argument (saie they) like thée so well, neither canst thou indéed defend the most perfect action to be the chéefest good; bicause the same also is as manie waies subiect to impediments, as thou didst obiect against vertue. For he which sléepeth dooth not contemplate; neither can he doo the same, which is vexed with gréeuous torments; and he cannot endure anie perils, which liueth in quiet & peaceable commonweales. Wherefore thou that saiest that vertue, for these causes, is not the chéefest good; thou shalt also saie, that the most perfect action must not be accounted for felicitie. A shew indéed of truth this hath, which is obiected, but it maketh no matter at all; bicause the Peripatetikes will easilie grant, that the same most perfect action, which they saie is felicitie, is not continued so as it cannot be broken off; but so long as it is, they would not grant it to be no felicitie, and much lesse will they yéeld that the same is referred to a better end. Both which things cannot be said of the habit which is vertue. For the same, as it is in a man that sléepeth, or is vexed with most painfull gréefes, can neither he called felicitie, nor yet can make him blessed in whose mind it is: for the habit may remaine, when the action is taken awaie; but an action being let from breaking foorth, neither is it, nor yet remaineth it. And besides this, an habit, while it yet remaineth hindered, who séeth not that it is still referred vnto action, when as it inclineth the mind and desire therevnto. Moreouer, that should be accounted our felicitie, which approcheth most néere vnto the diuine felicitie; but God, séeing he is not onelie perfect, but euen perfection it selfe, hath felicitie in act, not in power; in verie déed, not in habit; therfore our felicitie also shall be an action: which notwithstanding is requisite to be lesse than the blessednes of God, which therefore happeneth; bicause his act cannot faile him, but ours is verie oftentimes broken off.
25 After those things, 1which we have now spoken, must their cavil also be confuted, which laugh at the argument, brought as touching the impediments, whereby the action of virtue is repressed, that it cannot be effectual. Ye feign (say they) that the work of virtues pertaineth to the body; but it is not so: because the whole action of virtue is in the soul, and therein it standeth full and whole: the goods of the body, or instruments of fortune belong nothing thereunto. And without doubt, a poor man may be liberal, by wishing to give unto them to whom he thinketh meet to be given. Again, in the middest of torments, and in the very flames themselves, fear doth shine the more, and becometh more glorious. According to which opinion Seneca unto Lucillus, the seventy epistle writeth many things, and among others saith; Virtue hath also place in the bed: overcome thou thy sickness with a valiant courage, because, if others that be present, shall perceive thee to be courageous, great, and upright in torments, they will wonder at the brightness of thy virtue; and thou, whilst thou art so vexed, shalt rightly instruct them, and thorough virtue shalt not only help thy self very much, but them also. What manner of things these be, now will we more narrowly consider. They declare, that the action of virtue is whole, full, and perfect in the mind: that we deny. For if we shall declare the nature of an habit, the same is nothing else, than a quality brought in by long exercise, by the benefit whereof the powers of the mind and body are made more ready and fit to occupy themselves. Neither doth virtue in the mind alone express her action. They which say that virtue doth bear rule in eating, drinking, fleshly desire, and such like; those also will say, that the action of that virtue is expressed in the body also, ⟨p. 152⟩not in the soul only. So it may be lawful to say, as touching fortitude, liberality, and many other virtues; to show that the body and goods of fortune were not given by God unto mankind. Howbeit, these men perhaps persuade themselves, that the nature of man is fulfilled, and made perfect in the soul only: which how far it is from the truth, your selves without me may perceive.
25 After those things, 1which we haue now spoken, must their cauill also be confuted, which laugh at the argument, brought as touching the impediments, whereby the action of vertue is repressed, that it cannot be effectuall. Ye feigne (saie they) that the worke of vertues perteineth to the bodie; but it is not so: bicause the whole action of vertue is in the soule, and therein it standeth full and whole: the goods of the bodie, or instruments of fortune belong nothing thervnto. And without doubt, a poore man may be liberall, by wishing to giue vnto them to whom he thinketh méete to be giuen. Againe, in the middest of torments, and in the verie flames themselues, feare dooth shine the more, and becommeth more glorious. According to which opinion Seneca vnto Lucillus, the seuentie epistle writeth manie things, and among others saith; Vertue hath also place in the bed: ouercome thou thy sicknes with a valiant courage, bicause, if others that be present, shall perceiue thée to be couragious, great, and vpright in torments, they will woonder at the brightnes of thy vertue; and thou, whilest thou art so vexed, shalt rightlie instruct them, and thorough vertue shalt not onelie helpe thy selfe verie much, but them also. What maner of things these be, now will we more narrowlie consider. They declare, that the action of vertue is whole, full, and perfect in the mind: that we denie. For if we shall declare the nature of an habit, the same is nothing else, than a qualitie brought in by long exercise, by the benefite whereof the powers of the mind and bodie are made more readie and fit to occupie themselues. Neither dooth vertue in the mind alone expresse hir action. They which saie that vertue dooth beare rule in eating, drinking, fleshlie desire, and such like; those also will saie, that the action of that vertue is expressed in the bodie also,
A poor man (say they) may be liberal, while he desireth to give unto them, to whom he thinketh it meet to be given. But I would fain learn of these Stoics, whether they that be endued with virtue, and being hindered, do desire to work by it; for what cause they desire this? Do they it not for blessedness sake? This if they shall deny, they will declare themselves to be unwise in desiring of those things which they refer not unto the chiefest good. But if they will grant, that they wish those works for felicity sake, it shall be lawful to say that felicity is perfectly gotten, not in virtue, but in action. I will easily grant, that virtue shineth, and is more glorious in the midst of flames, and in most cruel torments; and him that with a valiant courage suffereth these things, I will extol with praises among good and wise men; but yet so, as I will deny him, in the mean time, to enjoy whole and perfect felicity. He shall very well by his example instruct and teach others, yet shall he not perfectly and all manner of ways be blessed. These things be so very true, as even they, which profess the Stoical discipline, must whether they will or no yield unto this opinion. For Cicero in his fifth book of Tusculan questions, at the beginning saith; If virtue be not of such strength, that it can defend it self, I fear me least we are not so much to lean to the hope of a blessed life, upon confidence of virtue, as it may seem that we have more need to pray for it. Verily I my self, when I consider those chances, wherein fortune hath exceedingly exercised me, I begin to mistrust this opinion, and otherwhiles also stand in great fear of mans weakness and frailty. For I fear least that when nature gave unto us weak bodies, and with them joined uncurable diseases, and intolerable griefs; it also gave minds agreeable to the griefs of the bodies, and severally entangled with the vexations and troubles thereof. But herein I reform my self, that I judge of the strength of virtue according to other mens niceness, and peradventure according to mine own, not according to virtue it self, &c. How he doubted, and in a manner became of this opinion, he plainly expressed in these words: and it maketh no matter, that he saith he reformed himself, because that is uncertain: and, he addeth this word Peradventure, which is a token of doubting.
A poore man (say they) may be liberall, while he desireth to giue vnto them, to whom he thinketh it méet to be giuen. But I would faine learne of these Stoiks, whether they that be indued with vertue, and being hindered, doo desire to worke by it; for what cause they desire this? Doo they it not for blessednes sake? This if they shall denie, they will declare themselues to be vnwise in desiring of those things which they refer not vnto the chéefest good. But if they will grant, that they wish those works for felicitie sake, it shall be lawfull to saie that felicitie is perfectlie gotten, not in vertue, but in action. I will easilie grant, that vertue shineth, and is more glorious in the midst of flames, and in most cruell torments; and him that with a valiant courage suffereth these things, I will extoll with praises among good and wise men; but yet so, as I will denie him, in the meane time, to inioie whole and perfect felicitie. He shall verie well by his example instruct and teach others, yet shall he not perfectlie and all maner of waies be blessed. These things be so verie true, as euen they, which professe the Stoicall discipline, must whether they will or no yéeld vnto this opinion. For Cicero in his fift booke of Tusculane questions, at the beginning saith; If vertue be not of such strength, that it can defend it selfe, I feare me least we are not so much to leane to the hope of a blessed life, vpon confidence of vertue, as it may séeme that we haue more néed to praie for it. Verelie I my selfe, when I consider those chances, wherein fortune hath excéedinglie exercised me, I begin to mistrust this opinion, and otherwhiles also stand in great feare of mans weakenes and frailtie. For I feare least that when nature gaue vnto vs weake bodies, and with them ioined vncurable diseases, and intollerable gréefs; it also gaue minds agréeable to the gréefs of the bodies, and seuerallie intangled with the vexations and troubles therof. But herein I reforme my selfe, that I iudge of the strength of vertue according to other mens nicenes, and peraduenture according to mine owne, not according to vertue it selfe, &c. How he doubted, and in a manner became of this opinion, he plainelie expressed in these words: and it maketh no matter, that he saith he reformed himselfe, bicause that is vncerteine: and, he addeth this word Peraduenture, which is a token of doubting.
Moreover, what is so certain, as that Cicero himself in his fourth book De finibus disputed against Cato, who had before in the third book extolled the opinion of Zeno and the Stoics to the heavens? Yea and the Stoics as in virtue alone they boasted, that they were blessed, 1yet did they not repose themselves in that alone; but called the powers of the body, the pureness of the senses, dignities, riches and such like [Greek or Hebrew]; that is, Things coming naturally without any other beginning: which Cicero calleth Things produced, promoted, principal, advanced above other. With the sense of which words if we would urge the Stoics, we shall say, that they attribute more unto this kind of things, than the Peripatetics; as they which do name those things principal, and above others; whereas the Peripatetics call them indeed good things, but yet of the lowest degree, and which are not of much account, being compared with just and honest things; and therefore, as the time serves, to be contemned, and not much to be desired. I know indeed that the Stoics do call these things principal and chief, while they be compared with their contraries; not when they be compared with virtues: but yet by these their new and made words they attribute very much to this order of things, when they call these things, Commodities, things to be preferred, & of chief regard; and their contraries [Greek or Hebrew]: as who should say Discommodities, and things rejected. Wherefore, though the Stoics would contend with the Peripatetics in talk, yet in reason and in the thing it self they agree with them. The Stoics delight in a magnifical kind of speech, and only in words bring in an unsensiblenes of passion, which when they come afterward to the matter, all men feel by experience, that it is quite differing from our senses, and from our tried customs, and also very far from the strength of our humane nature.
Moreouer, what is so certeine, as that Cicero himselfe in his fourth booke De finibus disputed against Cato, who had before in the third booke extolled the opinion of Zeno and the Stoiks to the heauens? Yea and the Stoiks as in vertue alone they boasted, that they were blessed, 1yet did they not repose themselus in that alone; but called the powers of the bodie, the purenes of the senses, dignities, riches and such like 〈non-Latin alphabet〉; that is, Things comming naturallie without anie other beginning: which Cicero calleth Things produced, promoted, principall, aduanced aboue other. With the sense of which words if we would vrge the Stoiks, we shall say, that they attribute more vnto this kind of things, than the Peripatetiks; as they which doo name those things principall, and aboue others; whereas the Peripatetiks call them indéed good things, but yet of the lowest degrée, and which are not of much account, being compared with iust and honest things; and therefore, as the time serues, to be contemned, and not much to be desired. I knowe indéed that the Stoiks doo call these things principall and chéefe, while they be compared with their contraries; not when they be compared with vertues: but yet by these their new and made words they attribute verie much to this order of things, when they call these things, Commodities, things to be preferred, & of chéefe regard; and their contraries : as who should saie Discommodities, and things reiected. Wherefore, though the Stoiks would contend with the Peripatetiks in talke, yet in reason and in the thing it selfe they agrée with them. The Stoiks delight in a magnificall kind of speach, and onlie in words bring in an vnsensiblenes of passion, which when they come afterward to the matter, all men féele by experience, that it is quite differing from our senses, and from our tried customs, and also verie far from the strength of our humane nature.
26 And I do not think, that I should lightly pass over those things, which I cited a little before, out of the fifth book of Tusculan questions; If (saith Cicero) virtue had not help enough in it self, that then we must make our prayers for the same. What is this we hear? As though if virtue were sufficient in it self, is there nothing then to be wished for, or to be desired of God; as if we had all things consisting in our own selves? Shall Tully on this wise, in making more of virtue than is requisite, take away godliness, which is the chief virtue of all others, by abolishing the invocation of God? Truly even thus did the Stoics think. 1For Seneca writeth, that Jupiter can do no more than a good man. Wherefore the Stoics used no less magnifical kind of speech, than their doctrine ⟨p. 153⟩was altogether differing from religion. Which I do not therefore say, as though I endeavoured to pronounce Aristotle's opinion to be godly and religious; but to give warning, that the Stoics are not so to be esteemed, 2as though in praising of their virtues, they drew very near (as some think) unto the christian doctrine. Yet will I bear more in this behalf with the Stoics, than with the Epicures; because they speak in a manner always that which is agreeable to their own opinion, whereas the Epicures many times affirm things not agreeable to their own rules. Because Epicurus accounteth grief for the chiefest evil, he also placeth pleasure of the body, or voidness of sorrow to be the chiefest good. If he be tormented, or descend into Phalaris bull, and tell me how sweet this is, as he boasteth that His wise man will say, without doubt he shall speak most inconstantly, and such things as no manner of way accord in themselves.
26 And I doo not thinke, that I should lightlie passe ouer those things, which I cited a little before, out of the fift booke of Tusculane questions; If (saith Cicero) vertue had not helpe inough in it selfe, that then we must make our praiers for the same. What is this we heare? As though if vertue were sufficient in it selfe, is there nothing then to be wished for, or to be desired of God; as if we had all things consisting in our own selues? Shall Tullie on this wise, in making more of vertue than is requisit, take awaie godlines, which is the chéefe vertue of all others, by abolishing the inuocatiō of God? Trulie euen thus did the Stoiks thinke.
