Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

izing an ill cause. In all pleadings, foul language, malice, impertinence, and recriminations are ever to be avoided. The cause, more than the man, is to be convinced. Overpowering oratory is not ever to be practised. Torrents of words do often bear down even trophies of truth; which does so fret and anger the party overborne, that the resort is no more to paper and pleadings, but to powder and steel.

It is not good to be too severe, or to enforce too rigorously the observation of every petty and penal law. In charity there is something to be allowed to ignorance and custom. Blood and 'treasure ought to be but sparingly taken. Those lawyers that are sedulous to press penalties, they are but purse-beadles; and lashes upon that and a man's fame enrage the patient against those that are instrumental to afflict them. Cicero might have escaped the sword, had not his Philippics blown up the spleen of Antony to a flame unquenchable but with death or retraction. When Varus's three legions were destroyed, the insultation of the barbarous was more against the lawyers, than against the soldiers that did wound and kill them. They plucked out the eyes of some, and cut off the hands of others. One had his tongue cut out and his lips stitched up; and while the enemy grasped the tongue in his

hand, he reviles it with,

"How now, ser

pent? it is well you will last."

leave hissing at

So far is law to be placed in the scale with war, as it is the last refuge, never to be used but when all means else do fail; and then the pleaders ought to hold themselves to that. Who vindicates the law, does no man wrong; but he that digresseth to impertinences, or the personal stains of men, is rather a fly that buzzes and sucks the sore, than a champion for truth, or a helmet to keep the head of justice whole.

OF PEACE.

Ir men knew rightly how to value peace, as is the empyreal heaven this lower world might be; where all the motions of the comprehending orbs, all the several constellations, and the various position of the stars and planets, produce a beauteous chorus and a harmony truly ravishing. As health to the body, so peace is to the soul. What is wealth or wit or honor, when want of health shall ravish from us all of pleasure in them? And what are all the enrichings, the embellishings, and the em

brocadings of fortune to us, when war shall tear these off and trample on our glories? The richest wines, the choicest viands, by sickness prove insipid. The silk does lose his softness, the silver his bright hue, and the gold his pleasing yellow. As the sense of feeling is the ground of all the rest, and active life does cease when that is lost, so is health the foundation of felicities, and the want of it joy's priva tion; yet is it peace that gives them taste and relish, and affords the sweet enjoyment of all that can be procured.

Though the other attributes of God are no doubt beyond our comprehension, yet this more emphatically is said to pass all our understanding. Next his own glory, it was the establishing this, invited God from heaven. The first branch of that celestial proclamation was,

66

Glory be to God on high;" the next was, "On earth peace." This is the cement between the soul and Deity, between earth and heaven. It leads us softly up the milky way, and ushers us with music to the presence of Divinity, where all her rarities are heaped and strewed about us. The enjoyment of friends, the improvement of arts, the sweetness of nature's delicacies, the fragrancy of fruits and flowers, the flourishing of nations, and those pleasing contentations that stream out them.

selves from all heroic virtues, are all brought in and glorified by peace.

The drum and trumpet, that in war sound terror and astonishment, in peace they only echo mirth and jollity. Peace helps the weak and indigent; and health and soundness, too, to the sick endeavours. It takes hence only the unsound and languishing, and yet gives leave to them to place their wealth where they first placed their loves; that by it they gratify their friends and slip from all those smartings that vex them. But war kills men in health, preys only on the soundest, and, like the savage lion, does seize the valiant soonest, as thinking the old and impotent too mean to be his quarry. And though in war sometimes we wear the victor's wreath, yet that is often purchased at much too dear a rate; and many times the conqueror's garland crowns the captive's head. In the same battle Hannibal confessed, though he first was conqueror, yet he at last did come off overcome. He had broke Minutius's forces, but was by Fabius forced to give up all his palms. Nor is it often better with those that are dependents on that general that yet commands the field. Victory not seldom does inlet severity. The haughtiness of the conqueror is often to his own less tolerable than the triumphs of the enemy. Success does flame

the blood to pride and boldened insolence, and as often kindles new, as it does conclude old wars. One world sufficed not Alexander; nor could all the Roman territories set bounds to Cæsar's limitless ambition. For when we once put off from the shore of peace, we launch into the sea that is bottomless. We swim on angry waves, and are carried then as the wind of fortune drives us.

The entrance into war is like to that of hell; it is gaping wide for any fool to enter at. But it will require a Hercules with all his labors to redeem one once engaged in it. They know not what they part withal, that wanton hence a jewel so unvaluable. For indeed, if we consider it, what price can be too dear to purchase it? We buy off all the open force and sly designs of malice, and we entitle ourselves to all the good that ever was for man intended. When God would declare how he would reward and bless the good man, he finds out that which most may crown his happiness. He

tells us, "He will make his enemies at peace with him." Securely he enjoys himself and friends, whose life is guarded with the miss of enemies. The palace of the world stands open to him that hath no foes.

If any man will see in little, (for what is an island or two to the world?) let him but well

« ZurückWeiter »