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Philosophers, Civilians, Canonists: for Divines, I hope, you shall find none. and let the right of this truth be tried, upon a just induction.

I only premise this caution, lest we quarrel about the cause of this quarrel, that necessity must be excluded from these unlawful fights; which ever alters their quality, and removes their evil: the defence of our life, the injunction of a magistrate, are ever excepted: voluntary combats are only questioned; or, whose necessity we do not find, but make. There are not many causes, that can draw us forth single into the field, with colour of equity.

Let the first be the trial of some hidden right; whether of innocence upon a false accusation, or of title to inheritance, not determinable by course of laws: a proceeding not tolerable among Christians, because it wants both warrant and certainty. Wherever did God bid thee hazard thy life for thy name? Where did he promise to second thee? When thou art without thy commandment, without his promise, thou art without thy protection. He takes charge of thee, but when thou art in thy ways; yea, in his. If this be God's way, where did he chalk it out? If thou want his word, look not for his aid. Miserable is that man, which, in dangerous actions, is left to his own keeping: yea, how plainly doth the event shew God's dislike! How oft hath innocence lain bleeding in these combats, and guiltiness insulted in the conquest! Those very Decretals (whom we oft cite not, often trust not) report the inequa lity of this issue. Two men are brought to the bar: one accuses the other of theft, without further evidence, either to clear or convince. The sword is called for; both witness, and judge. They meet, and combat. The innocent party is slain. The stolen goods are found after in other hands, and confessed. Oh, the injustice of human sentences! O wretched estate of the party miscarried! His good name is lost with his life, which he would have redeemed with his valour: he both dies and sins, while he strives to seem clear of a sin. Therefore men say he is guilty, because he is dead; while the other's wickedness is rewarded with glory. I am deceived, if, in this case, there were not three murderers; the judge, the adversary, himself. Let no man challenge God, for neglect of innocence; but rather magnify him, for revenge of presumption. What he enjoins, that he undertakes, he maintains: who art thou, O vain man, that darest expect him a party in thine own brawls? "But there is no other way of trial." Better none, than this. Innocency or land is questioned; and now we send two men into the lists, to try whether is the better fencer: what is the strength of skill of the champions, to the justice of the cause? Wherefore serve our own oaths? whereto witness, records, lotteries, and other purgations? or why put we not men as well to the old Saxon, or Livonian, ordalian trials of hot irons, or scalding liquors? It is far better; some truths should be unknown, than unlawfully searched.

Another cause, seemingly warrantable, may be the determining of war, prevention of common bloodshed. Two armies are ready to join battle: the field is sure to be bloody, on both sides; either

part chooses a champion: they two fight for all the life of one shall ransom a thousand. Our philosophers, our lawyers shout for applause of this Monomachy; as a way near, easy, safe: I dare not. Either the war is just, or unjust: if unjust, the hazard of one is too much; if just, too little. The cause of a just war must be, besides true, important; the title common, wherein still a whole state is interested; therefore may not, without rashness and temptation of God, be cast upon two hands. The holy story never records any, but a barbarous Philistine, to make this offer; and that, in the presumption of his unmatchableness. Profane monuments report many, and some on this ground, wisely rejected. Tullus challenged Albanus, that the right of the two hosts might be decided by the two captains: he returned a grave reply, which I never read noted of cowardice, That this suit of honour stood not in them two, but in the two cities of Alba and Rome. All causes of public right are God's: when we put to our hand in God's cause, then may we look for his. In vain we hope for success, if we do not our utmost: wherefore, either war must be determined without swords, or with many. Why should all the heads of the Commonwealth stand upon the neck and shoulders of oue champion? If he miscarry, it is injury to lose her: if he prevail, yet it is injury to hazard her. Yet, respecting the parties themselves, I cannot but grant it nearest to equity, and the best of combats, that some blood should be hazarded, that more may be out of hazard.

I descend to your case, which is yet further from likelihood of approof: for, what can you plead, but your credit? others' opinion? You fight, not so much against another's life, as your own reproach you are wronged, and now if you challenge not; or you are challenged, and if you accept not; the world condemns you for a coward. Who would not rather hazard his life, than blemish his reputation? It were well, if this resolution were as wise as gallant.

If I speak to a Christian, this courage must be rectified. Tell me, what world is this, whose censure you fear? Is it not that, which God hath branded long ago with positus in maligno? Is it not that, which hath ever misconstrued, discouraged, disgraced, persecuted goodness? that, which reproached, condemned your Saviour? What do you under these colours, if you regard the fayour of that, whose amity is enmity with God? What care you for the censure of him, whom you should both scorn and vanquish ? Did ever wise Christians, did ever your Master, allow either this manhood, or this fear? Was there ever any thing more strictly, more fearfully forbidden of him, than revenge in the challenge; than, in the answer, payment of evil; and murder, in both? It is pity, that ever the water of baptism was spilt upon his face, that cares more to discontent the world, than to wrong God: he saith, Vengeance is mine; and you steal it from him in a glorious theft, hazarding your soul more than your body. You are weary of yourself, while you thrust one part, upon the sword of an enemy, the other, on God's.

Yet, perhaps I have yielded too much. Let go Christians: the wiser world of men (and who else are worth respect?) will not pass this odious verdict upon your refusal. Valiant men have rejected challenges, with their honours untainted. Augustus, when he received a defiance and brave appointment of combat from Anthony, could answer him, That if Anthony were weary of living, there were ways enough besides to death: and that Scythian King returned no other reply to John, the Emperor of Constantinople: and Metellus, challenged by Sertorius, durst answer scornfully, with his pen, not with his sword; That it was not for a Captain to die a soldier's death. Was it, not dishonourable for these wise and noble heathens, to turn off these desperate offers? What law hath made it so with us? Shall I seriously tell you? nothing, but the mere opinion of some humorous gallants, that have more heart than brain; confirmed by a more idle custom: worthy grounds, whereon to spend both life and soul! whereon to neglect God, himself, posterity!

Go now, and take up that sword, of whose sharpness you have boasted, and hasten to the field: whether you die or kill, you have murdered. If you survive, you are haunted with the conscience of blood; if you die, with the torments; and if neither of these, yet it is murder, that you would have killed. See, whether the fame of a brave fight can yield you a countervailable redress of these mischiefs: how much more happily valiant had it been, to master yourself; to fear sin more than shame; to contemn the world; to pardon a wrong; to prefer true Christianity, before idle manhood; to live and do well!

EPISTLE III.

TO MR. MATTHEW MILWARD.

A Discourse of the Pleasure of Study and Contemplation; with the varieties of scholar-like Employments: not without Incitation of others thereunto: and a Censure of their Neglect.

I CAN wonder at nothing more, than how a man can be idle; but, of all other, a Scholar; in so many improvements of reason, in such sweetness of knowledge, in such variety of studies, in such importunity of thoughts.

Other artizans do but practise; we, still learn: others run still in the same gyre, to weariness, to satiety; our choice is infinite: other labours require recreations; our very labour recreates our sports: we can never want, either somewhat to do, or somewhat that we would do.

How numberless are those volumes, which men have written, of

arts, of tongues! how endless is that volume, which God hath written of the world! wherein every creature is a letter, every day a new page: who can be weary of either of these? To find wit, in poetry; in philosophy, profoundness; in mathematics, acuteness; in history, wonder of events; in oratory, sweet eloquence; in divinity, supernatural light and holy devotion; as so many rich metals in their proper mines, whom would it not ravish with delight! After all these, let us but open our eyes, we cannot look beside a lesson, in this universal Book of our Maker, worth our study, worth taking out. What creature hath not his miracle? what event doth not challenge his observation? And if, weary of foreign employment we list to look home into ourselves, there we find a more private world of thoughts, which set us on work anew, more busily, not less profitably now, our silence is vocal, our solitariness popular; and we are shut up, to do good unto many.

And, if once we be cloyed with our own company, the door of conference is open: here, interchange of discourse, besides pleasure, benefits us; and he is a weak companion, from whom we return not wiser.

I could envy, if I could believe, that Anchorite, who, secluded from the world and pent up in his voluntary prison-walls, denied that he thought the day long, while yet he wanted learning to vary his thoughts. Not to be cloyed with the same conceit, is difficult above human strength: but, to a man so furnished with all sorts of knowledge; that, according to his dispositions, he can change his studies; I should wonder, that ever the sun should seem to pace slowly. How many busy tongues chase away good hours, in pleasant chat; and complain of the haste of night! what ingenuous mind can be sooner weary of talking with learned authors, the most harmless, and sweetest of companions? what a heaven lives a Scholar in, that, at once, in one close room, can daily converse with all the glorious Martyrs and Fathers! that can single out, at pleasure, either sententious Tertullian, or grave Cyprian, or resolute Jerome, or flowing Chrysostom, or divine Ambrose, or devout Bernard, or, who alone is all these, heavenly Augustin; and talk with them; and hear their wise and holy counsels, verdicts, resolutions: yea, to rise higher, with courtly Isaiah, with learned Paul, with all their fellow-Prophets, Apostles: yet more, like another Moses, with God himself, in them both! Let the world contemn us: while we have these delights, we cannot envy them: we cannot wish ourselves other than we are.

Besides, the way to all other contentments, is troublesome: the only recompence, is in the end. To delve in the mines, to scorch in the fire, for the getting, for the fining of gold, is a slavish toil: the comfort is in the wedge; to the owner, not the labourers: where our very search of knowledge is delightsome. Study itself, is our life; from which we would not be barred for a world: how much sweeter then is the fruit of study, the conscience of knowledge! In comparison whereof, the soul, that hath once tasted it, easily contemns all human comforts,

Go now, ye worldlings, and insult over our paleness, our neediness, our neglect. Ye could not be so jocund, if you were not ignorant: if you did not want knowledge, you could not overlook him that hath it. For me, I am so far from emulating you, that I profess, I would as lief be a brute beast, as an ignorant rich man.

How is it then, that those gallants, which have privilege of blood and birth and better education, do so scornfully turn off these most manly, reasonable, noble exercises of scholarship? A hawk becomes their fist, better than a book: no dog, but is a better companion: any thing, or nothing, rather than what we ought.

O minds brutishly sensual! Do they think, that God made them for disport; who, even in his Paradise, would not allow pleasure, without work? and if for business, either of body or mind, those of the body are commonly servile, like itself: the mind therefore, the mind only, that honourable and divine part, is fittest to be employed of those, which would reach to the highest perfection of men, and would be more than the most. And what work is there of the mind, but the trade of a Scholar, study? Let me, therefore, fasten this problem on our School-gates, and challenge all comers in the defence of it; that, No Scholar cannot be truly noble: and, if I make it not good, let me never be admitted further, than to the subject of our question.

Thus we do well to congratulate to ourselves, our own happiness. If others will come to us, it shall be our comfort; but more theirs if not, it is enough, that we can joy in ourselves; and in him, in whom we are that we are.

EPISTLE IV.

TO MR. J. P.

A Discourse of the Increase of Popery; of the Oath of Allegiance; and the just Sufferings of those, which have refused it.

You say, your religion daily winneth. Brag not of your gain: you neither need, nor can ; if you consider how it gets, and whom. How; but by cunning slights, false suggestions, impudent untruths? who cannot thus prevail, against a quiet and innocent adversary? Whom; but silly women, or men notoriously debauched? a spoil, fit for such a conquest, for such victors.

We are the fewer, not the worse. If all our licentious hypocrites were yours, we should not complain; and you might be the prouder, not the better. Glory you in this triumph, free from our envy, who know we have lost none, but, by whom you save nothing, ei ther loose or simple.

It were pity, that you should not forego some, in a better ex

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