Common Places, Part 1 · Chapter 15
The xv. Chapter. Whether anie man can be counted happie, while he liueth in this world.
Out of the com. vponupon Ariſtotles Ethiks.ARiſtotle in his firſt booke of Ethiks, diſputing whither a man may be accounted happie in this life, ſaith; that Since vntounto all men, though they liue iuſtlie and well, may happen the ſame things that hapned vntounto Priamus, Whether anie man can be called happie in this life.there is left a doubt, whether anie man, while he liueth, being ſubiect to ſo manie alterations, can rightlie be called happie. And hauing ſecluded brute beaſts and children, it ſéemeth for good cauſe to be doubted, whether any man ſhould be accounted partaker of that bleſſednes: which as it might ſéeme, is not raſhlie to be affirmed; bicauſe of the manifold alterations. For what ſea or riuer is there, that can be toſſed with ſo manie ſtormes, that can be diſquieted with ſo manie troubleſome toſſings, as is the life of men, which though it be wholie well ſetled; one daie, or one vnfortunate night doth not alittle caſt it vnderunder foote, yea ofttimes vtterlie bring it to naught? And not only the bodie is changed, which after a ſort would be tollerable; but alſo the mind, whereby we now learne precepts, and now forget them; now receiue counſels, now reiect them; what within a while we decréed, we ouerthrowe; what a little before pleaſed vsus, is now earneſtlie refuſed. Theſe things Euſtratius conſidering with himſelfe, and perceiuing the cauſe of alteration of all theſe things to be deriued from the bodie, ſaith; that Our ſoule, when it is ioined with it, is as if it ſhould be let downe into a water troubled and moſt ſwiftlie running, whoſe whirlepooles our mind is ſo far vnable to reſiſt, as it is rather moſt vehementlie drawne by them. By which ſaieng we may perceiue the great infirmitie of mans mind, wherewith he is ſo holden, as he is not able to rule the violent courſe of worldlie alterations.
Ariſtotle indéed might hauehave named the variable and inconſtant ſtate, as well of the bodie, as of the mind, but he ſet foorth that manifold diuerſitie of things, which is perpetuallie ſéene in outward things. And that the thing which he ſaid might be the more plaine, he ſhewed an example verie well knowne euen vntounto children, which had hard the fables of the Poets, namelie Priamus the moſt rich king of Aſia, who had abundance of poſteritie, as he that was father of fiftie children, whereof ſeuentéene were borne to him of lawfull wiues, he had great ſtore of fréends, he was famous in warfare. But the more that fortune flattered him continuallie all his life long, The miſerable fall of Priamus.the more did ſhe at the end of his life, take all things moſt miſerablie from him. Wherefore iuſtlie and for good cauſe doth Ariſtotle demand, whether anie man is to be counted happie while he liueth? And this may be called a queſtion as touching the time; for he had before inquired of the cauſes of bleſſednes, and afterward he diſputed of the matter, the ſubiect, or perſons which ſhould be capable thereof; and now he ſearcheth out, at what time a man may be bleſſed, or ſo called. Whether (ſaith he) ſhall this be attributed vntounto him while he liueth, or after his death? The queſtion hath two parts, and Ariſtotle treateth of either part. In the firſt place he dealeth with their opinion, which would hauehave vsus to expect vntill the time of death, bicauſe that opinion is falſe, neither doth he followe the ſame; and he alwaies placeth the falſe things before the true, that thoſe being confuted, that which is true may be the better confirmed.
The opinion ſéemes to be prooued by the authoritie of Solon, who was both one of the ſeuen wiſe men of all Greece, and alſo a famous lawmaker: for he ſaid, That none is bleſſed, or ought ſo to be called, before his death. This ſentence was ſpoken by him vntounto the king of the Lydians, whoſe name was Croeſus, who outragiouſlie boaſting of his ſubſtance, riches, The ſpeech that was betweene Creſus and Solon.power of his kingdome, pleaſures, and other good things which he enioied; And dooeſt not thou (ſaith he) count me happie? In ſpeaking héereof, he ſéemed to glorie ouer the philoſophers, who with their doctrines and ſciences, in ſome maner of ſort were in néed; whereas he hauing no philoſophie, ſéemed vntounto himſelfe to be full fraught with felicitie. Solon hearing theſe words, repreſſed with a wiſe anſwere the inſolencie of the proud king; No man (ſaith he) is happie before his death, admoniſhing him, in a frée philoſophicall maner, that by ill fortune, all thoſe things might be eaſilie taken from him, in ſuch wiſe, that notwithſtanding ſo great things, he might be caſt downe to extreame calamitie. Wherein he was not deceiued; for Croeſus being ouercome by Cyrus, he ſawe all that euer he had, quite ouerthrowne. This ſentence of this Philoſopher did Ouid thus expreſſe;
Of euerie man we muſt expect, the laſt and fatall day:
Nor anie perſon happie call, till time of death we may.
Solons ſaieng examined.2 The ſaieng of Solon may be vnderſtood two manner of waies. The firſt ſenſe is, that it ſhould be ment of the thing it ſelfe, and ſhould be ſignified, that no man is bleſſed before death, but that now at length after death men be called happie. In this reſpect firſt this ſentence is reprooued as abſurd, and moſt repugnant to the definition alledged of felicitie. For if felicitie be an action, and that a perfect action, it ought not to be giuen to the dead; who, ſince they hauehave no longer being, are able to doo nothing. This is a ſpeciall place to teſtifie, that Ariſtotle thought the ſoule to be mortall: for if it remaine ſafe after death, aſſuredlie it can worke, and that much more readilie than being ioined with the bodie. Wherefore he ſhould neither rightlie nor orderlie withdrawe action from it, as he dooth when he bringeth foorth ſuch a reaſon, as cannot be firme; vnleſſe it ſhall be granted, that they which depart doo nothing. He ſéemeth to ſaie, that this would be ſo abſurd, as the ſelfe-ſame men, at one and the ſelfe-ſame time, both doo and not doo. If they ſhall be counted happie, then they doo; but if they be dead, they doo not. Neither is it conuenient, that they which be not happie, ſhould be called happie. I know indéed, that ſome ſo defend Ariſtotle, that he ſpeaketh in this place of ciuill felicitie, ſuch as is not to be expected of vsus in an other life. But what felicitie ſoeuer it be, whether ciuill, or perfect, and eternall, it muſt néeds be an action. Beſides, if he had iudged rightlie, he might in one word hauehave ſignified the ſame, by teſtifieng that there is an other felicitie to be looked for after this life, of which he did not preſentlie ſpeake. Againe, when he ſheweth a little after, that thedead as yet are ſubiect vntounto good and euill, he turneth all his diſputation to the good and euill things of this life. Thus did not Plato ſpeake, in his laſt booke of the common-weale, where he ſheweth, that then chéeflie doo remaine pure and happie actions for vsus, when we be called awaie from this life. And in his booke of the immortalitie of the ſoule, he appointeth philoſophie to be a ſound and ſincere meditation of death; namelie, that we ſhould alwaies ſéeke to remooue the mind frō the bodie, the plucking awaie whereof from the ſenſes, we ſhall then at the laſt atteine, when we ſhall be departed from hence. But Ariſtotle, ſo far as I know, neuer ſpake one word of the bleſſednes thereof.
The other ſenſe of Solon, Ariſtotle ſheweth: for he ſaith; If we ſhall ſaie that he, which is dead, is not bleſſed, ſéeing now he hath no being, and is dead, then will ſome man in defenſe of Solon make exception to this that we ſaie; This was not Solons meaning in his ſentence. For he will grant thus much, that a man is happie in verie déed, euen while he liueth here; but that he ought not to be pronounced happie of vsus, til he be dead; bicauſe then in very truth a man may ſafelie ſay it, when he is now out of dangers & euils. There is a difference betwéene foreign, & foreign; the firſt ſignifieth the vices, which we of our own choiſe and iudgement doo ioine vntounto vsus: but the other ſignifieth the miſchances which happen vntounto vsus againſt our wils. VntoUnto this exception of theſe defenders of Solon; Ariſtotle oppoſeth himſelfe, and ſaith; That which is affirmed is doubtfull, namelie that the dead are now out of euils and calamities: for euen the dead are yet ſubiect to euill things, and to good. Neither muſt we thinke, that Ariſtotle here ſpeaketh of purgatorie and of hell; but of the good and vnfortunate things of this life. Let vsus thus ſet downe his argument; They which be not paſt the good & euill things of this life are not yet in ſafetie, nor cannot be called bleſſed; But the dead are not yet exempted from theſe things, but are ſubiect vntounto them; Therefore they be not in ſafetie. The maior propoſition is manifeſt, the minor appéereth by a ſimilitude: for if a man, while he is aliue, be abſent, he may hauehave ſome euill & good things doone vntounto him, though he perceiue it not; as if ſome certeine honour be decréed vnot him without his knowledge, if there happen vntounto him ſome great inheritance, if there be a faire child borne vntounto him, and ſuch like things. Theſe things, although he knew not of them, and be far off; yet are they his good things. And on the other ſide, there may euils happen; to wit, that he may be defamed, he may be puniſhed, he may be baniſhed, his goods vtterlie loſt, &c. Wherefore, although the dead be abſent from hence, and perceiue them not; yet may they be partakers of the good and euill things which here are doone.
3 But let vsus ſée, how anie good or euill things may be ſaid to belong vntounto them, How good and euill things may be theirs which be abſent.which are abſent, and hauehave no perceiuing of them: neither doo I thinke, that this is otherwiſe doone, but bicauſe they be referred vntounto thoſe men, and that they which doo ſée thoſe things, ſaie & iudge that they belong vntounto them; bicauſe they perceiue that ſome of thoſe commodities or diſcommodities, which are doone, doo come vntounto them, or be taken awaie from them. But without doubt, there is a far other reſpect of them that be aliue. Although they bée abſent, and perceiue not, yet hauehave they a poſſibilitie to be preſent and perceiue; and ſomtimes it will be told them what is doone: but none of the dead can either be preſent againe, or féele what is doone in this life. Ariſtotle alledged againſt theſe Soloniſts, That the things done here belong not to the dead.If we will regard the alterations and changes of fortune, the verie dead indéed cannot be called happie; bicauſe they alſo may be ſubiect to ſuch alterations, at the leaſt-wiſe for their poſteritie ſake which be aliue. Which he prooued by a ſimilitude of the liuing; for although being abſent they féele not, yet may they hauehave both good and euill things doone vntounto them. Now we ſée the ſmall ſtrength of this reaſon; he ſéemeth to reiect the ſame by this argument, which neuertheles, ſéeing the changes of the poſteritie are diuerſe and manifold, it ſhould be ſaid that the dead are neuer at reſt. Which that he may the better laie before our eies, he bringeth in a certeine man which liued happilie, vntill the end of his old age, and in the verie ſame ſtate of life died; this mans ſtate ſhall now be oftentimes changed diuerſe and ſundrie waies for this variablenes of his poſteritie, and of a happie man ſhall become miſerable, and riſe againe from miſerie to happines. And not without cauſe ſaid Ariſtotle [Vntill his old age] to ſhew, that while he liued, he wanted no conſtantnes towards the perfection of felicitie. Which how greatlie it is required vntounto bleſſednes, both it is ſhewed before, and here Euſtratius declareth by the example of Achilles, who notwithſtanding he greatlie flouriſhed in that ſame expedition of Troie, and that he was vpholden with all kind of good things; yet could he not be called bleſſed, ſince he died a yoong man. And that manie changes of things ſhall fall out in the poſteritie, Ariſtotle vnderſtood as a moſt manifeſt thing. For Heſiodus ſaith;
foreign
that is,
Somtime the daie is a ſtepmother, and ſomtime a mother.
Furthermore, by this word foreign he vnderſtandeth nothing elſe, than a ſpace or diſtance of time, that endeth by the reuolution either of yéeres or moneths. Hereof he will hauehave it to followe, that ſuch a man as he deſcribed, ſhould by infinite interchanges become ſometimes happie, and ſometimes miſerable. Theſe things are ſpoken to ſhew, that thoſe things which are doone here, perteine not to the dead: when as neuertheles he ſéemed before to affirme this by a ſimilitude. Now he denieth the ſame by an argument that leadeth to an abſurditie, and the abſurditie will therefore become the more manifeſt, bicauſe then, neither in life, nor after death, anie man can for the ſelfe-ſame cauſe be called happie; to wit, bicauſe of the alterations which be imminent, which will hinder as well him that is aliue as dead, from being happie.
4 Neither could he reſt himſelfe in that which he laſt declared; For (ſaith he) it ſéemeth verie abſurd, that the matters of the poſteritie ſhould not at anie time belong vntounto their parents: but wherein this is abſurd he ſheweth not. He leaueth it, as a thing knowne well enough, and ſo knowne, as the common ſort were of that mind: for all men (in a maner) thought that the dead are carefull about thoſe things that we doo. Hence came the fables of the poets, as touching Palinurus and Achilles, which would hauehave their ghoſts to be pacified by the chéefeſt ſacrifice. And why he ſaid [Not at anie time] the reaſon is, bicauſe they might hauehave made exception to the former reaſon; namelie, that they did not affirme an infinite procéeding, ſo that all the alteration of things of all poſterities ſhould come vntounto the dead, but of néere kinſfolks onelie; as if you ſhould ſaie, euen to the fourth generation. Therefore Ariſtotle ſaid, that it would ſéeme abſurd, if the matters of the liuing ſhould not once at anie time belong to them that be dead: he declareth not the reaſon of the abſurditie. But Euſtratius ſaith, that this ſéemeth to be againſt the nature of man, and without all affection, as though all communion betwéene vsus and the dead were quite broken off. But let vsus returne (ſaith he) to the doubt that was ſet downe at the beginning; namelie, Whether anie man may be called happie while he liueth, or elſe after his death. For by the diſſoluing of that queſtion, this perhaps that we now ſearch will appéere.
They which denie this, ſaie, that they doo it, bicauſe of the alteration and change of things: howbeit they be deceiued, bicauſe the alterations, which be imminent, may bring it to paſſe, that the felicitie which is preſent may ceaſe; but this ſhall they neuer cauſe, but that while it is preſent, it may be affirmed of him with whom it was preſent. And whereas they affirme, that a man may be called happie, bicauſe he was ſo; they ought much more to grant the ſame, while actuallie he is ſo. For according vntounto their ſaieng, he might be called happie, euen in that reſpect that he was happie, much more therefore while he was happie; bicauſe that for which anie thing is like, that is affirmed to be much more like. And as the Logicians ſaie; No propoſition can be true of a time paſt, vnleſſe that which anſwereth therevnto hauehave ſometime béene true of the time preſent. The opinion of theſe men is grounded vponupon two principles; firſt, that felicitie is a certeine firme and ſtable thing; ſecondlie, that the ſame dependeth of fortune. The firſt is true; for bleſſednes is not eaſilie changed, and therefore it dependeth of vertues, which are confirmed habits of the mind, and not eaſie to be mooued. And therefore Cicero in his ſecond booke De finibus, ſaid, that Therefore felicitie dependeth of wiſedome, bicauſe the ſame cleaueth faſt and ſtedfaſtlie to the mind. That fortunes are oftententimes changed and altered, no man doubteth; wherevpon appéereth, how far theſe be out of the waie, as touching the other point; bicauſe they thinke, that fortune muſt be followed in the placing of bleſſednes. But how far theſe erre, he ſheweth herby; that they are faine to make a happie man changeable and vnſtable, like the camelion; which muſt néeds fal out, if we ſhall followe fortune, in the which there is no conſtantnes nor ſtabilitie: for ſuch are the goods of the world, as they neuer continue in one ſtate.
That the good and euill of man ſtandeth not in fortune.Moreouer Ariſtotle ſaith, that we muſt not regard fortune when we treat of felicitie; ſéeing the good and euill of man is not placed therein. A verie graue ſentence trulie is this, that the good and euill of man ſtandeth not in caſuall things. What (ſaith Euſtratius) would it profit to hauehave anie being at all, if to be happie and in good plight depend of fortune, and not of our ſelues? And yet of theſe, which we call the goods of fortune, the life of man hath néed. For ſome man might ſaie; Since thou ſaiſt that felicitie is not put in theſe caſuall goods of man, whie doo we deſire them? Why didſt thou ſéeke thoſe things? Bicauſe (ſaith he) mans life hath néed of them. But vertues, in very déed, & the actions of them, obteine the dominion and chéefe place in felicitie. And a reaſon may be brought, whie bleſſednes dependeth not of theſe things which be not in vsus, ſuch as fortune is; but hath the originals therof placed in our own ſelues. And as the actions, which procéed of vertue, are the beginnings of felicitie; ſo the contraries, namelie thoſe which come of vices be of a contrarie effect; to wit, the originals of calamitie and miſerie: ſo as it is concluded, that felicitie is not of fortune, bicauſe there we do not chooſe or deliberate of thoſe things; but in theſe actions which procéed of vertue, both our choiſe and deliberation hauehave place. But and if that the common ſort doo thinke, that felicitie is to be placed in good things, they muſt not be heard, ſéeing they erre in many other things. And this onlie will we receiue of Solon, that felicitie ſtaieth it ſelfe vponupon a ſtable & firme matter, and ſince it is ſo perfect, and ſo abſolute a thing, it muſt be ſought from cauſes which are of themſelues, and not from thoſe which are called accidentall cauſes.
5 To confirme, that fortune is not to be followed in obteining of felicitie, Ariſtotle bringeth the queſtion mooued a little before: for it is much doubted of this, whether any man may be called happie in this life; bicauſe there was a reſpect had to the alterations and changes of fortune. Then if we ſhall ſet aſide fortune, that doubt will become apparent. So that the philoſopher was mooued to determine this ſentence, to wit, that Nothing may ſéeme more vnſtable than fortune. Wherefore it may be prooued by Solon himſelfe, that felicitie muſt not be placed therein; bicauſe he iudgeth, that in anie wiſe it muſt be ſtedfaſt. But there is nothing more firme and conſtant in this life, than be the actions which procéed of vertue: That nothing is more vnſtable than fortune, nor more ſtable than actions of virtue.which by an argument brought of compariſon, he ſheweth; More ſtedfaſt (ſaith he) be vertues than ſciences, whereas notwithſtanding ſciences among humane things ſéeme to be verie conſtant. The foundation of the reaſon is; Bicauſe thoſe things that be more conſtant than others, which ſéeme to be verie conſtant, are in that kind ſpeciallie to be accounted for ſtedfaſt. And trulie knowledges, if thou hauehave reſpect wherabout they be exerciſed, namelie, about things neceſſarie, and which cannot otherwiſe be; and about the apperance of an aſſent, which is moſt firmelie gotten by demonſtrations; they ſéeme among humane things to hauehave moſt ſtedfaſtnes. And yet notwithſtanding it is not ſo in ſciences, bicauſe that ſciences breake not out ſo often into their actions, as vertues doo. If we ſhould alwaies be in contemplation, as we muſt alwais be dooing ſome thing ſo long as we liue, without doubt ſciences ſhould be as firme as vertues be: but contemplation is manie times left off. And thoſe which profeſſe the mathematicall ſciences, while they leaue off their ſtudie, they forget manie demonſtrations. Indéed, as well theſe as thoſe are habits of the mind; and the nature of habits is, that they are hardlie aboliſhed: but yet thoſe habits are ſooner aboliſhed, about which we are not often exerciſed. Both ſorts of habits in their owne nature may by diſcontinuance fall awaie: but diſcontinuance can not happen alike to vertues & to knowleges; for in all actions there is néed of wiſdom. In perils, fortitude; in bargaining, iuſtice; in meate, drinke, & carnall pleſure temperance; in conuerſation with men, friendſhip and curteſie; and finallie, in euerie worke a meaſure and meane is néedfull. Séeing therefore to all bleſſed men, the vſe of vertues is open, but not of ſciences; it is manifeſt, that there may ſooner happen a forgetfulnes of ſciences, than of vertues. For ſciences oftentimes for the moſt part be of thoſe things, whereof we hauehave no dooing: but vertues be of thoſe things, wherein the bleſſed are conuerſant. And that which is ſpoken of ſciences, we may alſo affirme of arts; for if anie man, though he be a noble artificer, doo reſt a long while from his worke, he will eaſilie become ignorant and vnlearned. All this reaſon cleaueth vntounto this ground, that it is not lawfull of a ſound and conſtant thing to aſſigne a mutable cauſe; which certeinlie would be, if of bleſſednes, which ſhould be ſtable, we would make fortune to be the cauſe, the ſame being variable and in a maner neuer abiding in one ſtate.
How bleſſednes can be the cauſe of vertues, and yet be produced of them.6 Héere will ſome man ſaie; How doth this doctrine agrée with thoſe things which were before ſet downe, that where it was affirmed, that felicitie is the cauſe of vertues and honeſt actions, and therefore we ſhould aboue all things, hauehave determined of it, as of the chéefe and principall cauſe of all morall things. But héere it is ſaid, that therefore bleſſednes doth not depend of fortune, but is produced by vertues and good déeds, bicauſe theſe be firme and conſtant; but fortune is vncerteine and variable. Indéed there ſéemes but ſmall agréement betwéene theſe things; namelie, bleſſednes to be the cauſe of vertues, and iuſt actions; and on the other ſide, that felicitie commeth from them. Howbeit, this diſagréement will eaſilie be reconciled, if thou wilt diſtinguiſh of the cauſes. Of outward cauſes, A diſtinction of cauſes.we muſt make two kinds, and the finall cauſes muſt be ſeuered from the efficient; and then it will be granted, that among the finall cauſes, felicitie is the chéefe: which neuertheles to be brought to paſſe by thoſe things, whereof felicitie it ſelfe is the end, no man muſt maruell; ſince betwéene the end, and the efficient, this change or courſe is alwaies perceiued: for as the end is brought foorth by the efficient, ſo the efficient is mooued by the end. But which ſhall be thoſe principall among morall vertues, which Ariſtotle pronounced to be moſt ſtedfaſt, and in a maner immouable? No others, Which vertues be of moſt ſtedfaſtnes.in my iudgment, but thoſe foure vertues commonlie commended; wiſedome, iuſtice, fortitude, and temperance: for theſe doo comprehend almoſt all the actions of mans life; therefore of a happie man they can not be forgotten.
Another thing in this place is called into doubt; namelie, that there may be found ſome man, which will both ſet aſide the care of houſhold affaires, and which hath decréed neuer to deale with matters of the common-weale, but to liue onlie alone, and to exerciſe himſelfe in ſundrie ſciences which he hath learned. He, bicauſe nature is contented with a little, will be occupied in verie few actions, and will altogither giuegive himſelfe to contemplations and ſciences; whereof it will come, that he will ſoone forget vertues, or elſe will ſooner be without them, than forgetfulnes can aboliſh ſciences: or elſe that he doth not with great indeuour prouide to hauehave them. Wherefore, as touching this man, that will not hold, which Ariſtotle ſaid; to wit, that ſciences are eaſelier forgotten, than vertues. Héerevnto will I ſaie, that ſuch a man ſhall ſeldome and hardlie be found, who yet if he can at anie time be found, is not ſo greatlie to be accounted of, as for his ſake the common condition of men ſhould be changed. That which is taught héere, hapneth among the moſt ſort of men; neither can there be a ſcience had of thoſe things which rarelie happen. And let vsus adde, that ſuch maners are not agréeable to the nature of man, that anie ſhould ſo leade his life in ſolitarines, that he would doo in a maner nothing, but be occupied altogether in contemplation and learning.
When Ariſtotle had now diſcouered and taken awaie the cauſe of the error, he affirmeth, That a bleſſed man may be called happie while he liueth.that a bleſſed man may hauehave happines in himſelfe, euen while he yet liueth; and by it may be called happie: and that changeable euents and miſhaps doo nothing hinder it. And this reaſon he giueth of his opinion; namelie, that a bleſſed man will alwaies, or aboue all other things, both doo his actions, and contemplate according to vertue. After he had ſaid, Alwaies, he added, Or aboue all other things; bicauſe it can not be, that a man can alwaies be in action or in contemplation. Sometimes men muſt ſléepe: and they that be awake, doo manie times for their mind ſake, ſet apart the cogitations of learning, and indeuour of dooing. Fitlie he did rehearſe as well action as contemplation; bicauſe the whole life of man is diſtributed into theſe twaine. But héere if one ſhould replie: You ſpeake nothing as touching miſfortunes. What if anie great miſchance ſhould befall vntounto your happie man? He anſwereth, How he may be happie which is aſſailed by miſfortunesthat this bleſſed man will verie well, and as ſhall beſt beſéeme him, ſuſteine th…ſe miſfortunes. For it fareth not with him, as with the vulgar ſort, who, if they be preſſed with calamitie, are diſcouraged, and hauehave their mind troubled, ſo as they can ſée in a maner nothing: in like maner, as when fortune fauoureth them, they be puffed vp, they giuegive ouer their accuſtomed ſtudie, and become in a maner negligent. Thus will not the happie man doo, but will in a maner alwaies kéepe one and the ſame eſtate of mind.
7 Moreouer, thoſe things which happen vntounto vsus are either proſperous, or hurtfull; Small matters, be they aduerſe, or be they proſperous, are of no moment to change life.and as well hurtfull things, as proſperous, be either great or ſmall. The ſmall things as well in the kind of hurtfull, as of happie, dooth Ariſtotle take, and ſaith; that thoſe are of no moment, either to change the condition of life, or to driue it from the former eſtate. Which without doubt we are to vnderſtand, as touching the bleſſed, and them that be indued with vertue: otherwiſe, the common ſort of men, and they which be of no account, are eaſilie and in a maner for the ſmaleſt cauſes of all, troubled and diſquieted, which good and graue men will not in like ſort doo. Then he taketh the other member; Great proſperitie increaſeth felicitie in the bleſſed.But admit they be great things which doo happen; thoſe, if they be proſperous, will without doubt increaſe the bleſſednes of life: bicauſe they be made for adorning of the ſame. Felicitie beyond his owne proper bounds cannot be increaſed, ſéeing it is the chéefeſt good of all. But in the bleſſednes of his owne kind it may be greater, & it may be leſſe. But ſince that Ariſtotle ſaith, that bleſſednes may be adorned, it ſéemeth the ſame may be compared with a ſingular forme or beautie; which though by it ſelfe it be delightfull, yet is it more ſwéete, if there be anie ornament decentlie ioined therevnto. And the art of handicraft, when it obteineth inſtruments more fit, dooth expreſſe a greater cunning, than when groſſer tooles are applied therevnto. But if on the contrarie part, the miſfortunes which befall are gréeuous and manie, I ſaie that they preſſe downe, and blemiſh felicitie.
Greeuous miſhaps do preſſe felicitie, but not aboliſh it in the godlie.And Ariſtotle ſheweth what maner of oppreſſion or blemiſh it is; Gréefes (ſaith he) doo bring in theſe things, and are a hinderance vntounto excellent actions. Hinderance riſeth of two cauſes; firſt, they which be ſore gréeued become vnapt to bring things to paſſe. And when the inſtruments be loſt, we cannot without them doo as we would: thus dooth the loſſe of outward good things hinder him that is happie. Yet dooth he mitigate this oppreſſion or blemiſh; For an honeſt man (ſaith he) dooth ſhine euen in theſe aduerſities, as bright things doo in obſcure places. Wherefore the darknes of aduerſe fortune extinguiſheth not felicitie ſo, but that it ſpredeth out his bright beames, euen in that ſtate; which is a token that honeſtie is ſtill reteined, which in bleſſednes beareth the chéefe ſwaie: otherwiſe it might not giuegive foorth hir brightnes. And not to go far from the example alreadie ſet foorth: Euen as if a man, or a moſt beautifull woman bereued of hir ornaments, ſhould be conſtrained to go in rags and vile clothes, aſſuredlie it could not be, but that ſame beautie would after ſome maner ſhew it ſelfe euen in that attire. Neither dooth Ariſtotle conceale wherein that brightnes dooth conſiſt; to wit, in enduring patientlie and with a quiet mind thoſe hard chances: indéed not Stoicallie, by a certeine inſenſiblenes of gréefe; but of a noblenes of mind and excellent courage. Theſe things may ſuffice to reſolue this queſtion; whether that we may affirme that a man can be bleſſed in this life. And hereby may we fitlie anſwer thoſe things, which were before alledged, as touching the dead.
And bréeflie we gather, that outward good things, or proſperous fortune, doo not fall indéed into the proper and naturall definition of felicitie; but are onelie applied as certeine inſtruments and helps. Euen as neither a handie craft ought to be defined by the inſtruments which it vſeth, although without them it cannot doo anie thing. By aduerſe fortune therefore is felicitie ſtreitened and ſtopped, in ſuch wiſe, as it can but ſmallie breake out into act: for by the gréefe which it bringeth therewith, the mind is darkened, and the powers doo as it were faint. But Ariſtotle remooueth foreign, the Inſenſiblenes of greefe, bicauſe therein is no vertue, but rather a certeine kind of aſtoniſhment. And men muſt not be either ſtocks or ſtones, which while they be aſſailed with greeuous ſtrokes, ſhould féele nothing. But herein is vertue, that thoſe things which we féele, we ſhould ſo moderate and gouerne, as they diſturbe vsus not from the right ſtate of our mind. That aduerſities do not hinder felicitie.I knowe here that the Stoiks doo crie out on Ariſtotle, who thinke that felicitie and vertue are not hindered or blemiſhed by anie aduerſities; but that perfect bleſſednes may be ſtill reteined euen in Phalaris bull. And the Epicures, as it were out of their apothecaries ſhops, drew out that ſame notable conſolation of theirs, as Cicero hath in his booke De finibus bonorum & malorum; namelie; In gréefes, if long, eaſie; if gréeuous, ſhort. Theſe things neuertheles are eaſilier ſaid than prooued, and they be verie contrarie to the nature of man. Thoſe things which Ariſtotle teacheth, are not onelie agréeable vntounto reaſon & to our nature; but alſo doo verie well conſent with practiſe and experience. Againſt the ſaieng of Solon did he affirme, that felicitie, while we liue here, is not ſubiect to alteration; bicauſe it dependeth vponupon a ſtable and ſure thing, namelie, of that action which is iuſt, and according to vertue, againſt which fortune being moſt inconſtant is able to doo nothing. Some alteration indéed may happen vntounto a bleſſed man; but yet not ſuch, as thereby he ſhould be made miſerable. For vnhappines dooth growe by euill actions, as we ſaid before, of which actions the bleſſed man ſhall not be author. Vnhoneſt and filthie déeds dooth Ariſtotle call foreign; that is, odious and friuolous: for friuolous they be, and of no value, bicauſe they turne a man from the iuſt and true end: and odious they are iuſtlie called, bicauſe they be hurtfull as well to others, as to thoſe that commit them.
8 After this he teacheth, What a bleſſed man ſhall doo if he fall into aduerſitie,what an happie man ſhould doo, when by chance he falleth into aduerſities; Of thoſe things (ſaith he) which are ap…ointed vntounto him, he will doo the beſt, and will omit none of thoſe things which may be doone. This indéed is the part of excellent artificers, that although they hauehave not alwaies méete inſtruments, and fit matter; yet doo they neuer ſo deale, as they will ſuffer thoſe things which are granted vntounto them, to periſh without anie profit. And without doubt, in this lacke of matter and inſtruments, this induſtrie of theirs dooth excéedinglie ſhine, which alſo we taught before as touching the happie man: the vertue which remaineth in him will appéere, euen in the middeſt of calamities. Here if thou wilt ſaie; Why then are not aduerſities rather ſaid to make felitie more renowmed, Whether aduerſities doo rather beautifie felicitie or blemiſh it.than to blemi…h it? To this we anſwer; Bicauſe though calamities doo not altogither ouerwhelme felicitie; yet after ſome manner they ouerpreſſe it and obſcure it. And whereas vertue dooth ſomewhat ſhine in them, that coms not by anie vigor of calamities; neither for that they conſpire not herein, that the ſame vertue may be hindered; but bicauſe they be not of ſuch ſtrength, that they ſhould vtterlie extinguiſh the ſame. Neither when anie good actions doo there ſhine, are thoſe commended, as perfect in all reſpects; but in compariſon and reſpect of the preſent ſtate. And to drawe an example euen from arts; If anie men which wanting their hands, as otherwhile it happeneth, doo ſowe or write with their féet, all men will maruell, and will commend their writing & ſowing; not as perfect and in all reſpects abſolute, but in reſpect of the inſtrument. Wherefore Ariſtotle in his Rhetoriks, when he teacheth to amplifie and commend anie thing, ſheweth that there muſt be a conſideration had; not onlie of the time, place, ſocietie, and ſuch like; but eſpeciallie of the inſtruments. Wherevpon the diuell perceiuing this, and thinking that Iob would not doo ſuch déeds that ſhould be méet and decent, if the outward inſtruments of felicitie were taken frō him by God, deſired leaue, that it might be permitted him at his owne pleaſure to take awaie thoſe inſtruments from him.
Two examples are ſo ſet downe for explaning of the foreſaid opinion, as one of them belongeth to the inſtruments, and the other to the matter, & theſe are not a little ioined one with another: yea and when the inſtrument dooth not appoint a peculiar kind of cauſe, it may be referred to the matter. VntoUnto what kind of cauſe the inſtrument belongeth.Albeit I am not ignorant, that ſome doo reduce the ſame vntounto the efficient cauſe. But it ſéemes, that we ſhould rather yéeld to the former opinion; bicauſe as in motion the matter receaueth the forme; ſo the inſtruments themſelues ſuſteine the motion and working procéeding from the efficient cauſe, and by them the action paſſeth into the matter of the efficient. And as the matter is to the inſtruments, ſo the inſtruments be towards the efficient cauſe, by which they are immediatlie mooued. A chéefe capteine after a warlike manner, vſeth his armie, ſuch as it is; when he prudentlie ſetteth his hoſt in araie, when he before hand poſſeſſeth the places of greater aduantage, & when he letteth ſlip no occaſion of getting the victorie, and well & wiſelie conſidereth ſuch other like things. He is ſaid to vſe well the armie which is preſent with him, bicauſe it behooueth him well to know that armie which he hath, as well touching number as ſtrength, and the ſame howſoeuer it be, to vſe well, and not to deſire a better. When it is come to the ſtroke of the battell: if he could not hauehave a better or more copious armie, now it is not required of him, but that he vſe that well which he hath alreadie. Thoſe things which are ſpoken of a chéefe capteine, be alſo agréeable vntounto a ſhoomaker: the difference onlie betwéene them is, that in the one there is a reaſon had of the inſtrument; but in the other, of the matter. For euen as the ſkins and lether of the ſhoomaker, are the matter of his handie-craft; ſo the chéefe capteine hath his armie for an inſtrument of victorie. But betwéene theſe things this is the difference: the matter is made, Wherein inſtruments and matter doo differ.the inſtruments are not made, when anie thing is wrought. Againe, that which is wrought, ſtandeth of the matter; not ſo of the inſtruments, ſéeing they hauehave no ingredience into the effect. Finallie, the matter is in power to receiue forme, and before it obteine the ſame, it is ſubiect to the priuation thereof. All which things doo ſo agrée to the matter, as they cannot be attributed to the inſtruments. It is prooued by that, which hath bin ſaid, that the works of euerie artificer are not ſimplie to be regarded; but according to the commoditie & proportion either of the matter, or of the inſtruments. Which muſt no otherwiſe be thought of, as touching the actions of a happie man, that now falleth into aduerſities: for thoſe are to be iudged of according to the preſent ſtate of him that is author of them. And then that followeth, which was ſaid before; namelie, that thoſe things hauehave their certeine beautie, euen in calamities themſelues. For if a happie man, that is afflicted with ill fortune, ſhall alwaies doo good déeds of ſuch things as he hath, he cannot become miſerable. When that change therefore of fortune ſhall happen vntounto him, what ſhall this happie man be? What ſhall he be called? Héere hath Ariſtotle ſomewhat to doo, and while he is vrged too ſore, at the laſt he affirmeth, that partlie he is happie, and partlie not; bicauſe he hath not full felicitie, though he hauehave not fullie loſt the ſame.
9 At the laſt he appointeth a certeine meane betwéene a bleſſed and a miſerable man, A meane betweene bleſſed and miſerable. A difference betweene bleſſed and happie.and in that place accounteth that man happie, which is ouerwhelmed with gréeuous afflictions. Trulie there hauehave béene ſome which thought, that a bleſſed man dooth differ from a happie man; bicauſe he is called bleſſed, which fullie & all manner of waies is abſolute and perfect; but a happie man, who hauing vertue and good actions, yet wanteth outward good things, & helps, & riches. Howbeit I diſpute not of that matter; this neuertheles I ſaie, that this diſtinction cannot be applied to the words of Ariſtotle: for he ſaith afterward, that a man cannot eaſilie ſo plunge out from Priamus miſeries, as he can be againe a happie man. Where it appéeres, that he puts no difference betwéene bleſſed & happie; but vſeth theſe two words for one ſignification. Wherefore he ſhall be in a meane; neither can he be iudged miſerable, ſince he ſtill reteineth the roote of that ſame bleſſednes. How ſtablenes and mutablenes may agree togither in a bleſſed man.But ſince that a bleſſed man may be ſubiect to ſome alteration, how can he then be ſaid to be firme and ſtable? Bicauſe he will not be changed, vnleſſe there happen manie and great miſchances. Therefore did Ariſtotle fitlie make mention of Priamus miſhaps, which both in number and greatnes oppreſſed that king. Againe, he is called firme and ſtable; bicauſe he is not ſo changed, as he falleth into the contrarie, and becommeth miſerable. But it is demanded, Whether a happie man may becom miſerable.whether it can by anie meanes be, that at length a happie man ſhould become miſerable? Trulie there hauehave béene ſome found, which being oppreſſed with calamities, hauehave in like maner béene ſo much changed with fortune, that at the length alſo they hauehave yéelded to ſlothfulnes, and to verie great vices; and hauehave quite fallen from the vertues which they had before. But I would rather thinke, that thoſe, while they flouriſhed with outward wealth, did rather ſeme to be honeſt, than that they were ſo indéed. For it oftentimes commeth to paſſe, that in theſe mightie and famous men, there is a certeine ſhew of vertue, but no …ound and ſincere honeſtie; and vices, vnderunder the renowne of honour and riches, were eaſilie hidden, which afterward when proſperitie is gone, are diſcouered.
But why true vertues doo not eaſilie turne into vices, hereby it appéereth; bicauſe they be habits: and habits (as they be defined by Ariſtotle in his Categories) are hardlie remooued. Finalie, he is conſtant, ſéeing euen in miſfortunes themſelues, he hath vertue, being the roote and foundation of felicitie, and thereby hath a moſt excellent action. At the laſt Ariſtotle concludeth of this propertie of him that is happie, and ſaith, that he is not variable or eaſie to be changed; as Solon did imagine, who for this cauſe thought that no man in his life time is to be called happie. He is not changed, ſaith Ariſtotle, by euerie kind of fortune. Which verie well agréeth with that which was ſaid before; Thoſe things, which be eaſie, as well aduerſities as felicities, hauehave ſmall or no moment at all vntounto the life of a happie man. Howbeit he granteth, that he is to be changed, if calamities be manie and great. Whereby it appéereth, that that perfect action is not ſufficient vntounto a full felicitie, eſpeciallie if we ſpeake of the ſame according to a ciuill ſenſe. Why vices doo ſuffice vntounto miſerie, but not vertue vntounto felicitie.And ſome doo maruell how it commeth to paſſe, that if vile actions and vices doo ſuffice vntounto miſerie; why vertue and honeſt actions are not ſufficient vntounto felicitie, ſince it ſéemeth that there ſhould be one and the ſame reſpect had of contraries. But herevnto is anſwered, that the argument dooth not alwaies hold in contraries; bicauſe euerie man is able to kill himſelfe, but no man can call himſelfe againe from death. Moreouer, vntounto health is required a temperature and equalitie of all the humors; whereas vntounto ſicknes it is enough, that euen one humor depart from his naturall conſtitution.
10 Ariſtotle hauing ſpoken of the one kind of alteration; namelie, when one from a happie ſtate is throwne downe, not into miſerie, but to ſuch a point as he is neither miſerable nor happie; then likewiſe he dealeth with the other change, ſéeking whether anie man, Whether a man from great miſerie may returne to felicitie.plunging out of theſe infinite and manifold miſfortunes, can returne againe to his former felicitie. Where firſt note, that he ſpeaketh here of a happie man, as of one that is abſolutlie and perfectlie bleſſed. For it is demanded, whether from thoſe miſeries and gréeuous miſhaps a returne is to be granted vntounto the former felicitie, from whence being bleſſed he fell; as Priamus or Croeſus, or ſuch other, which before were happie? Ariſtotle anſwereth to the queſtion, that this indéed may be doone, but not in anie ſhort time. For there is néed of manie things, which cannot ſtraitwaie be gotten and obteined, eſpeciallie of them which be oppreſſed with the iniuries of fortune. And as a bleſſed man, like a ſquare ſtone, cannot eaſilie be remooued; ſo being throwne downe he cannot eaſilie be ſet vp againe. We read not in hiſtories, that ſuch things did commonlie happen; neither doo I knowe of anie notable perſonage, which being vtterlie confounded, did returne to his former ſtate. The holie ſcriptures ſet foorth vntounto vsus onelie Iob, which was indéed a pointing ſtocke, and by the ſingular prouidence of God was reſtored: and if there happen anie ſuch things, trulie they may be accounted woonderfull and rare works. And how hard this is to be doone, the example of Priamus now ſet foorth may plainlie ſhew. Admit hée could ſometime hauehave riſen from ſo great euils; but when could he euer hauehave renewed his citie ouerthrowne? When could he hauehave reſtored his kingdome to the ancient forme and glorie? When could he hauehave put awaie the ſorowe for ſo manie children ſlaine, for ſo manie kinſfolke which were now led awaie captiue, and ſerued the Grecians? The perfect time, which Ariſtotle ſpeaketh of, ſignifieth nothing els, but all the courſe of life. And that in the ſame time (he meaneth the reſidue of time, vntill the end) it ſhould be néedfull for him to poſſeſſe verie manie great and good things, otherwiſe he ſhall not become happie againe. If we would yéeld anie thing vntounto Solon, or gratifie him, we might thus ſaie; that bleſſed they be, and ſo called in this life, but with a condition withall; to wit, that they ſo remaine hereafter. Neither dooth Ariſtotle ſéeme to denie it, but granteth this, ſo as the time to come may agrée with the time preſent. It is not granted to Solon, that a mā can not be happie, nor ſo be called, while he liueth, as though death were to be looked for. But perhaps when he is called happie, we muſt adde a condition therewith. For it is to be noted, that he ſaith not, that they are bleſſed abſolutelie, but as men; ſignifieng thereby, that there is a certeine other moſt perfect bleſſednes, which can not be chnaged by anie meanes, and hath no néed of adding a condition of the time to come; and this bleſſednes is of God, not of men: men are bleſſed, and yet they are but bleſſed men.
How the things declared in this common place, agree with the ſcriptures.11 Now remaineth to ſhew, how theſe things, which hauehave bin ſhewed in this matter, may agrée with the holie ſcriptures, or diſſent from them. Firſt we made a diſtinction of bleſſednes, ſo as one ſhould be of this life, and another ſhould be expected in the world to come. As touching that which is to come, we make with Solon; for we agrée, that it is not to be had in this world. But the other, which ſtandeth in the forgiuenes of ſins, & renewing of life by good maners, may be had héere. But how a man may be called happie by it, we affirme, that euerie man is perſuaded thereof in his owne ſelfe; for euerie man can tell whether he beléeue or beléeue not. And this is that which is ſaid; Let euerie man examine himſelfe, 1. Cor. 11, verſe. 28. Rom. 8, 16.and ſo let him eate of this bread, and drinke of this cup. And we hauehave the ſpirit to beare witnes; Who teſtifieth to our ſpirit, that we be the ſonnes of God: he is preſent as a teſtimonie of our conſcience and good life. Of others we can knowe nothing, ſéeing their mind and grace is not knowne vntounto vsus: but ſo long as they profeſſe the right faith, and liue tollerablie in the church, we are to hope well of them. And to affirme felicitie to be an action, doth nothing hinder, but that after death, thoſe which be departed, may enioie the ſame; ſince our actions ſhall then be more readie than now they are. And that our felicitie may be firme and ſtable, let vsus, as Ariſtotle did of his, weight it by the principles thereof. Our felicitie dependeth of predeſtination, of the ſpirit, and of faith; which are far more excellent things, than anie humane vertues or actions are. And of much leſſe force is fortune in theſe, than in thoſe principles of Ariſtotle. Moreouer, whatſoeuer Ariſtotle appointeth in his felicitie, we hauehave in ours: for both we would, that they which be iuſtified, ſhould liue rightlie, and renew themſelues with true and perfect vertues. And beſides theſe, we ſaie, that there bée high principles, which excell nature; namelie, diuine election, the ſpirit, and faith. And no leſſe doo we agree with him in this, that we affirme, there be principles of miſerie contrarie vntounto theſe; namelie, the reprobation of God, the want of gods ſpirit, and infidelitie. He that is ſubiect vntounto theſe euils, is to be counted altogither miſerable and vnhappie.
Touching the compariſon betwéene vertues and ſciences, we by no meanes diſagrée from him: yea, and we grant, that vertues are more conſtant and firme than humane knowledge is. And ſo great a ſtedfaſtnes there is of bleſſednes, as Paule ſaid touching predeſtination; 2. Tim. 2, 19.The foundation ſtandeth ſure, the Lord knoweth who be his. And by faith and grace, the Lord would hauehave vsus to be iuſtified; not by works, Rom. 4, 16.that the promiſe might be firme, and that wée might not ſtumble at thoſe things, hauing reſpect to our infirmitie. Againe, Paule ſaith; 1. Tim. 1, 12.I knowe whome I hauehave beleeued vponupon, and I am aſſured, &c. And he that enioieth this our bleſſednes, ſuſteineth verie well the ſtrokes of fortune; yea, though they be gréeuous. Paule ſaid, Phil. 4, 12.that He knew how to humble himſelfe, and how to excell, to hunger and to thirſt, to abound, and to ſuffer penurie. Our happie man in like maner is, as the foure-ſquare ſtone; Who (ſaith Paule) ſhall ſeparate vsus from the louelove of God? Shall tribulation, or anguiſh, Rom. 8, 35.or perſecution, or famine, or ſword, or danger, or nakednes? &c. And he addeth, that He is moſt aſſured, that neither life, nor death, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, &c. Our happie man is not hindered by caſuall things, Iohn. 28.but All things proceed happilie to them that louelove God. Yea, and he will moſt of all ſhine in aduerſities; Tribulation worketh patience; Rom. 5, 3.patience experience; experience hope; and hope maketh not aſhamed. And as Ariſtotle miſliketh of vnſenſiblenes of gréefe, ſo we alſo doo not admit the ſame. Yea rather Chriſt, next the prophets & the ſaincts did wéepe, and we are commanded to ſorrowe with them that ſorrowe. Ariſtotle ſaith, that his happie man will neuer commit vile and naughtie things. This doo not we pronounce of ours; for Dauid fell gréeuouſlie, and Peter gréeuouſlie. Thoſe happie men of his cannot ſoone be repaired, but we hauehave the moſt readie medicine of repentance, and that alwaies at hand. In like maner, our happie man, of thoſe things which are miniſtred vntounto him, is able to doo moſt excellent things, according to the ſtate and condition which he hath obteined. Wherefore that little mite, which the widowe offered, was ſo well pleaſing, ſo gratefull and acceptable to God, as it excelled the oblations of the rich men. Laſtlie, temporall chances and miſfortunes, whatſoeuer they be, doo the more driue godlie men vntounto God, and doo drawe them from the world. For our men can not be bleſſed, vnleſſe they be poore in ſpirit.