Chapter 2

Come we to ambition, which by a greedines of honor fondly holdeth occupied the greatest persons. Thinke we there to finde more? nay rather lesse. As the one deceiueth vs, geuing vs for all our trauaile, but a vile excrement of the earth: so the other repayes vs, but with smoke and winde: the rewards of this being as vaine, as those of that were grosse. Both in the one and the other, we fall into a bottomles pit; but into this the fall by so much the more dangerous, as at the first shewe, the water is more pleasant and cleare. Of those that geue themselues to courte ambition, some are great about Princes, others commanders of Armies: both sorts according to their degree, you see saluted, reuerenced, and adored of those that are vnder them. You see them appareled in purple, in scarlet, and in cloth of gould: it seemes at first sight there is no contentment in the world but theirs. But men knowe not how heauy an ounce of that vaine honor weighes, what those reuerences cost them, and how dearely they pay for an ell of those rich stuffes: who knewe them well, would neuer buy them at the price. The one hath attained to this degree, after a long and painefull seruice hazarding his life vpon euery occasion, with losse ofttimes of a legge or an arme, and that at the pleasure of a Prince, that more regards a hundred perches of ground on his neighbours frontiers, then the liues of a hundred thousand such as he: vnfortunate to serue who loues him not: and foolish to thinke himselfe in honor with him, that makes so litle reckening to loose him for a thing of no worth. Others growe vp by flattering a Prince, and long submitting their toongs and hands to say and doe without difference whatsoeuer they will haue them: wherevnto a good minde can neuer commaund it selfe. They shall haue indured a thousand iniuries, receiued a thousand disgraces, and as neere as they seeme about the Prince, they are neuertheles alwayes as the Lions keeper, who by long patience, a thousand feedings and a thousand clawings hath made a fierce Lion familiar, yet geues him neuer meate, but with pulling backe his hand, alwayes in feare least he should catch him: and if once in a yere he bites him, he sets it so close, that he is paid for a long time after. Such is the ende of all princes fauorites. When a Prince after long breathings hath raised a man to great height, he makes it his pastime, at what time he seemes to be at the top of his trauaile, to cast him downe at an instant: when he hath filled him with all wealth, he wrings him after as a sponge: louing none but himself, and thinking euery one made, but to serue, and please him. These blinde courtiers make themselues beleeue, that they haue freends, and many that honor them: neuer considering that as they make semblance to loue, and honor euery body, so others do by them. Their superiors disdaine them, and neuer but with scorne do so much as salute them. Their inferiors salute them because they haue neede of them (I meane of their fortune, of their foode, of their apparell, not of their person) and for their equalls betweene whome commonly friendship consistes, they enuy each other, accuse each other, crosse each other; continually greeued either at their owne harme, or at others good. Nowe what greater hell is there, what greater torment, then enuie? which in truth is nought else but a feauer _Hectique_ of the mind: so they are vtterly frustrate of all frendship, euer iudged by the wisest the chiefe and soueraigne good among men. Will you see it more clearely? Let but fortune turne her backe, euery man turnes from them: let her frowne; euery man lookes aside on them: let them once be disroabed of their triumphall garment, no body will any more knowe them. Againe, let there be apparelled in it the most vnworthie, and infamous whatsoeuer: euen he without difficultie by vertue of his robe, shall inherit all the honours the other had done him. In the meane time they are puffed vp, and growe proude, as the Asse which caried the image of _Isis_ was for the honors done to the Goddesse, and regard not that it is the fortune they carry which is honored, not themselues, on whome as on Asses, many times she will be caried. But you will say: At least so long as that fortune endured, they were at ease, and had their contentment, and who hath three or foure or more yeeres of happy time, hath not bin all his life vnhappie. True, if this be to be at ease continually to feare to be cast downe from that degree, wherevnto they are raised: and dayly to desire with great trauaile to clime yet higher. Those (my friend) whome thou takest so well at their ease, because thou seest them but without, are within farre otherwise. They are faire built prisons, full within of deepe ditches, and dungeons: full of darkenes, serpents and torments. Thou supposest them lodged at large, and they thinke their lodgings straite. Thou thinkest them very high, and they thinke themselues very lowe. Now as sicke is he, and many times more sicke, who thinkes himselfe so, then who in deed is. Suppose them to be Kings: if they thinke themselues slaues, they are no better: for what are we but by opinion? you see them well followed and attended: and euen those whome they haue chosen for their guard, they distrust. Alone or in company euer they are in feare. Alone they looke behinde them: in company they haue an eye on euery side of them. They drinke in gould and siluer; but in those, not in earth or glasse is poison prepared and dronke. They haue their beds soft and well made: when they lay them to sleepe you shall not heare a mouse stur in the chamber: not so much as a flie shall come neere their faces. Yet neuertheles, where the countreyman sleepes at the fall of a great riuer, at the noise of a market, hauing no other bed but the earth, nor couering but the heauens, these in the middest of all this silence and delicacie, do nothing but turne from side to side, it seemes still that they heare some body, there rest it selfe is without rest. Lastly, will you knowe what the diuersitie is betwene the most hardly intreated prisoners and them? both are inchained, both loaden with fetters, but that the one hath them of iron, the other of gould, and that the one is tied but by the body, the other by the mind. The prisoner drawes his fetters after him, the courtier weareth his vpon him. The prisoners minde sometimes comforts the paine of his body, and sings in the midst of his miseries: the courtier tormented in minde weerieth incessantly his body, and can neuer giue it rest. And as for the contentment you imagine they haue, you are therein yet more deceiued. You iudge and esteeme them great, because they are raised high: but as fondly, as who should iudge a dwarfe great, for being set on a tower, or on the top of a mountaine. You measure (so good a Geometrician you are) the image with his base, which were conuenient, to knowe his true height, to be measured by itselfe: whereas you regard not the height of the image, but the height of the place it stands vpon. You deeme them great (if in this earth there can be greatnes, which in respect of the whole heauens is but a point.) But could you enter into their mindes, you would iudge, that neither they are great, true greatnes consisting in contempt of those vaine greatnesses, wherevnto they are slaues: nor seeme vnto themselues so, seeing dayly they are aspiring higher, and neuer where they would be. Some one sets downe a bound in his minde. Could I attaine to such a degree, loe, I were content: I would then rest my selfe. Hath he attained it? he geues himselfe not so much as a breathing: he would yet ascend higher. That which is beneath he counts a toy: it is in his opinion but one step. He reputes himselfe lowe, because there is some one higher, in stead of reputing himselfe high, because there are a million lower. And so high he climes at last, that either his breath failes him by the way, or he slides from the top to the bottome. Or if he get vp by all his trauaile, it is but as to finde himselfe on the top of the Alpes: not aboue the cloudes, windes and stormes: but rather at the deuotion of lightnings, and tempests, and whatsoeuer else horrible, and dangerous is engendred, and conceiued in the aire: which most commonly taketh pleasure to thunderbolt and dash into pouder that proude height of theirs. It may be herein you will agree with me, by reason of the examples wherewith both histories, and mens memories are full. But say you, such at least whome nature hath sent into the world with crownes on their heads, and scepters in their hands: such as from their birth she hath set in that height, as they neede take no paine to ascend: seeme without controuersie exempt from all these iniuries, and by consequence may call themselues happie. It may be in deed they feele lesse such incommodities, hauing bene borne, bred and brought vp among them: as one borne neere the downfalls of _Nilus_ becomes deafe to the sound: in prison, laments not the want of libertie: among the _Cimmerians_ in perpetuall night, wisheth not for day: on the top of the Alpes, thinks not straunge of the mistes, the tempests, the snowes, and the stormes. Yet free doubtles they are not wh[en] the lightening often blasteth a flowre of their crownes, or breakes their scepter in their handes: when a drift of snowe ouerwhelmes them; when a miste of heauines, and griefe continually blindeth their wit, and vnderstanding. Crowned they are in deede, but with a crowne of thornes. They beare a scepter: but it is of a reede, more then any thing in the world pliable, and obedient to all windes: it being so far off that such a crowne can cure the maigrims of the minde, and such a scepter keepe off and fray away the griefs and cares which houer about them: that it is contrariwise the crowne that brings them, and the scepter which from all partes attracts them. O crowne, said the Persian Monarch, who knewe howe heauy thou sittest on the head, would not vouchsafe to take thee vp, though he found thee in his way. This Prince it seemed gaue fortune to the whole world, distributed vnto men haps and mishaps at his pleasure: could in show make euery man content: himselfe in the meane while freely confessing, that in the whole world, which he held in his hand there was nothing but griefe, and vnhappines. And what will all the rest tell vs, if they list to vtter what they found? We will not aske them who haue concluded a miserable life with a dishonorable death: who haue beheld their kingdomes buried before them, and haue in great misery long ouerliued their greatnes. Not of _Dionyse_ of _Sicill_, more content with a handfull of twigs to whip little children of _Corinth_ in a schoole, then with the scepter, where with he had beaten all _Sicill_: nor of _Sylla_, who hauing robbed the whole state of _Rome_, which had before robbed the whole world, neuer found meanes of rest in himselfe, but by robbing himselfe of his owne estate, with incredible hazard both of his power and authoritie. But demaund we the opinion of King _Salomon_, a man indued with singuler gifts of God, rich and welthie of all things: who sought for treasure from the Iles. He will teach vs by a booke of purpose, that hauing tried all the felicities of the earth, he found nothing but vanitie, trauaile, and vexation of spirit. Aske we the Emperour _Augustus_, who peaceably possessed the whole world. He will bewaile his life past, and among infinite toiles wish for the rest of the meanest man of the earth: accounting that day most happy, when he might vnloade himselfe of this insupportable greatnes to liue quietly among the least. Of _Tiberius_ his successor, he will confesse vnto vs, that he holdes the Empire as a wolfe by the eares, and that (if without danger of biting he might) he would gladly let it goe: complayning on fortune for lifting him so high, and then taking away the ladder, that he could not come downe agayne. Of _Dioclesian_, a Prince of so great wisedome and vertue in the opinion of the world: he will preferre his voluntary banishment at _Salona_, before all the Romaine Empire. Finally, the Emperour Charles the fifth, esteemed by our age the most happy that hath liued these many ages: he will curse his conquestes, his victories, his triumphes: and not be ashamed to confesse that farre more good in comparison he hath felt in one day of his Monkish solitarines, then in all his triumphant life. Now shall we thinke those happie in this imaginate greatnes, who themselues thinke themselues vnhappie? seeking their happines in lessening themselues, and not finding in the world one place to rest this greatnes, or one bed quietly to sleepe in? Happie is he only who in minde liues contented: and he most of all vnhappie, whome nothing he can haue can content. Then miserable _Pyrrhus_ King of _Albanie_, who would winne all the world, to winne (as he sayd) rest: and went so farre to seeke that which was so neere him. But more miserable _Alexander_, that being borne King of a great Realme, and Conqueror almost of the earth, sought for more worlds to satisfye his foolish ambition, within three dayes content, with sixe foote of grounde. To conclude, are they borne on the highest Alpes? they seeke to scale heauen. Haue they subdued all the Kings of the earth? they haue quarels to pleade with God, and indeuour to treade vnder foote his kingdome. They haue no end nor limit, till God laughing at their vaine purposes, when they thinke themselues at the last step, thunderstriketh all this presumption, breaking in shiuers their scepters in their hands, and oftentimes intrapping them in their owne crownes. At a word, whatsoeuer happines can be in that ambition promiseth, is but suffering much ill, to get ill. Men thinke by dayly climing higher to plucke themselues out of this ill, and the height wherevnto they so painefully aspire, is the height of misery it selfe. I speake not heere of the wretchednes of them, who all their life haue held out their cap to receiue the almes of court fortune, and can get nothing, often with incredible heart griefe, seeing some by lesse paines taken haue riches fall into their hands: of them, who iustling one an other to haue it, loose it, and cast it into the hands of a third: Of those, who holding it in their hands to hold it faster, haue lost it through their fingers. Such by all men are esteemed vnhappie, and are indeed so, because they iudge themselues so. It sufficeth that all these liberalities which the Deuill casteth vs as out at a windowe, are but baites: all these pleasures but embushes: and that he doth but make his sport of vs, who striue one with another for such things, as most vnhappie is he, that hath best hap to finde them. Well now, you will say, the Couetouse in all his goodes, hath no good: the Ambitious at the best he can be, is but ill. But may there not be some, who supplying the place of Iustice, or being neere about a Prince, may without following such vnbrideled passions, pleasantly enioy their goodes, ioyning honor with rest and contentment of minde? Surely in former ages (there yet remayning among men some sparkes of sinceritie) in some sort it might be so: but being of that composition they nowe are, I see not how it may be in any sorte. For deale you in affayres of estate in these times, either you shall do well, or you shall do ill. If ill, you haue God for your enemy, and your owne conscience for a perpetually tormenting executioner. If well, you haue men for your enemies, and of men the greatest: whose enuie and malice will spie you out, and whose crueltie and tyrannie will euermore threaten you. Please the people you please a beast: and pleasing such, ought to be displeasing to your selfe. Please your selfe, you displease God: please him, you incurr a thousand dangers in the world, with purchase of a thousand displeasures. Whereof it growes, that if you could heare the talke of the wisest and least discontent of this kinde of men, whether they speake aduisedly, or their words passe them by force of truth, one would gladly change garment with his tenaunt: an other preacheth how goodly an estate it is to haue nothing: a third complaining that his braines are broken with the noise of Courte or Pallace, hath no other thought, but as soone as he may to retire himself thence. So that you shall not see any but is displeased with his owne calling, and enuieth that of an other: readie neuerthelesse to repent him, if a man should take him at his word. None but is weerie of the bussinesses wherevnto his age is subiect, and wisheth not to be elder, to free himselfe of them: albeit otherwise hee keepeth of olde age as much as in him lyeth.

What must we then doe in so great a contrarietie and confusion of mindes? Must wee to fynde true humanitie, flye the societie of men, and hide vs in forrestes among wilde beastes? to auoyde these vnrulie passions, eschue the assemblye of creatures supposed reasonable? to plucke vs out of the euills of the world, sequester our selues from the world? Coulde wee in so dooing liue at rest, it were something.

But alas! men cannot take heerein what parte they woulde: and euen they which do, finde not there all the rest they sought for. Some would gladly doo, but shame of the world recalls them. Fooles to be ashamed of what in their heartes they condemne: and more fooles to be aduised by the greatest enemye they can or ought to haue. Others are borne in hande that they ought to serue the publique, not marking that who counsell them serue only themselues: and that the more parte would not much seeke the publique, but that they founde their owne particular. Some are told, that by their good example they may amende others: and consider not that a hundred sound men, euen Phisitions themselues, may sooner catch the plague in an infected towne, then one be healed: that it is but to tempt God, to enter therein: that against so contagious an aire there is no preseruatiue, but in getting farre from it. Finally, that as litle as the freshe waters falling into the sea, can take from it his saltnes: so little can one _Lot_ or two, or three, reforme a court of _Sodome_. And as concerning the wisest, who no lesse carefull for their soules, then bodies, seeke to bring them into a sound and wholesome ayre, farre from the infection of wickednes: and who led by the hande of some Angell of God, retire themselues in season, as _Lot_ into some little village of _Segor_, out of the corruption of the world, into some countrie place from the infected townes, there quietlie employing the tyme in some knowledge and serious contemplation: I willinglie yeeld they are in a place of lesse daunger, yet because they carie the danger, in themselues, not absolutelie exempt from danger. They flie the court, and a court folowes them on all sides: they endeuoure to escape the world, and the world pursues them to death. Hardly in this world can they finde a place where the world findes them not: so gredelie it seekes to murther them. And if by some speciall grace of God they seeme for a while free from these daungers, they haue some pouertie that troubles them, some domesticall debate that torments them, or some familiar spirit that tempts them: brieflie the world dayly in some sorte or other makes it selfe felt of them. But the worst is, when we are out of these externall warres and troubles, we finde greater ciuill warre within our selues: the flesh against the spirite, passion against reason, earth against heauen, the worlde within vs fighting for the world, euermore so lodged in the botome of our owne hearts, that on no side we can flie from it. I will say more: he makes profession to flie the worlde, who seekes thereby the praise of the worlde: hee faineth to runne away, who according to the prouerbe, By drawing backe sets himselfe forward: he refuseth honors, that would thereby be prayed to take them: and hides him from men to the ende they shoulde come to seeke him. So the world often harbours in disguised attire among them that flie the world. This is an abuse. But follow wee the company of men, the worlde hath his court among them: seeke we the Deserts, it hath there his dennes and places of resorte, and in the Desert it selfe tempteth Christ Iesus. Retire wee our selues into our selues, we find it there as vncleane as any where. Wee can not make the worlde die in vs, but by dieng our selues. We are in the world, and the worlde in vs, and to seperate vs from the worlde, wee must seperate vs from our selues. Nowe this seperation is called Death. Wee are, wee thinke, come out of the contagious citie, but wee are not aduised that we haue sucked the bad aire, that wee carry the plague with vs, that we so participate with it, that through rockes, through desarts, through mountaines, it euer accompanieth vs. Hauing auoyded the contagion of others, yet we haue it in our selues. We haue withdrawen vs out of men: but not withdrawen man out of vs. The tempestuous sea torments vs: we are grieued at the heart, and desirous to vomit: and to be discharged thereof, we remoue out of one ship into another, from a greater to a lesse: we promise our selues rest in vaine: they being always the same winds that blow, the same waues that swel, the same humors that are stirred. To al no other port, no other mean of tranquilitie but only death. We were sicke in a chamber neere the street, or neere the market: we caused our selues to be carried into some backer closet, where the noise was not so great. But though there the noise was lesse: yet was the feauer there neuerthelesse: and thereby lost nothing of his heate. Change bedde, chamber, house, country, againe and againe: we shall euery where finde the same vnrest, because euery where we finde our selues: and seek not so much to be others, as to be other wheres. We folow solitarines, to flie carefulnes. We retire vs (so say we) from the wicked: but cary with vs our auarice, our ambition, our riotousnes, all our corrupt affecti[on]s: which breed in vs 1000. remorses, & 1000. times each day bring to our remembrance the garlike & onions of _Egipt_. Daily they passe the Ferry with vs: so that both on this side, and beyond the water, we are in continual combat. Now could we cassere this c[om]pany, which eats and gnaws our mind, doubtles we should be at rest, not in solitarines onely, but euen in the thicket of men. For the life of m[an] vpon earth is but a continual warfare. Are we deliuered from externall practizes? Wee are to take heed of internall espials. Are the Greekes gone away? We haue a _Sinon_ within, that wil betray them the place. Wee must euer be waking, hauing an eie to the watch, and weapons in our hands, if wee will not euery houre be surprised, & giuen vp to the wil of our enimies. And how at last can we escape? Not by the woodes, by the riuers, nor by the mountaines: not by throwing our selues into a presse, nor by thrusting our selues into a hole. One only meane there is, which is death: which in ende seperating our spirite from our flesh, the pure and clean part of our soule from the vncleane, which within vs euermore bandeth it selfe for the worlde, appeaseth by this seperation that, which conioyned in one and the same person coulde not, without vtter choaking of the spirit, but be in perpetuall contention.