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ties, the other with blind experiments and of all men so desirous of that which no man auricular traditions and impostures, hath may obtain? It is an axiom of Nature that committed so many spoils, I hope I should natural desire cannot utterly be frustrate. bring in industrious observations, grounded This desire of ours being natural should conclusions, and profitable inventions and be frustrate, if that which may satisfy the discoveries; the best state of that province. same were a thing impossible for man to This, whether be curiosity or vain glory, aspire unto. Man doth seek a triple peror nature, or (if one take it favorably), fection: first a sensual, consisting in those philanthropia, is so fixed in my mind as it things which very life itself requireth either cannot be removed. And I do easily see, as necessary supplements, or as beauties and that place of any reasonable countenance ornaments thereof; then an intellectual, doth bring commandment of more wits than consisting in those things which none underof a man's own; which is the thing I greatly neath man is either capable of or acquainted affect. And for your Lordship, perhaps with; lastly a spiritual and divine, consistyou shall not find more strength and less ing in those things whereunto we tend by encounter in any other. And if your Lord- supernatural means here, but cannot here ship shall find now, or at any time, that I attain unto them. They who make the first do seek or affect any place whereunto any of these three the scope of their whole life, that is nearer unto your Lordship shall be are said by the Apostle to have no god but concurrent, say then that I am a most dis- only their belly, to be earthly-minded men. honest man. And if your Lordship will Unto the second they bend themselves, who not carry me on, I will not do as Anaxagoras seek especially to excel in all such knowldid, who reduced himself with contempla- edge and virtue as doth most commend men. tion unto voluntary poverty, but this I will To this branch belongeth the law of moral do—I will sell the inheritance I have, and and civil perfection. That there is somepurchase some lease of quick revenue, or what higher than either of these two, no some office of gain that shall be executed by other proof doth need than the very process deputy, and so give over all care of service, of man's desire, which being natural should and become some sorry book-maker, or a be frustrate, if there were not some farther true pioneer in that mine of truth, which thing wherein it might rest at the length (he said) lay so deep. This which I have

contented, which in the former it cannot do. writ unto your Lordship is rather thoughts For man doth not seem to rest satisfied, than words, being set down without all art, either with fruition of that wherewith his disguising, or reservation. Wherein I have

life is preserved, or with performance of done honor both to your Lordship's wisdom, such actions as advance him most deservedly in judging that that will be best believed of in estimation; but doth further covet, yea your Lordship which is truest, and to your oftentimes manifestly pursue with great Lordship's good nature, in retaining noth- sedulity and earnestness, that which cannot ing from you. And even so I wish your stand him in any stead for vital use; that Lordship all happiness, and to myself means which exceedeth the reach of sense; yea and occasions to be added to my faithful somewhat above capacity of reason, somedesire to do you service. From my lodgings

what divine and heavenly, which with hidat Gray's Inn.

den exultation it rather surmiseth than conA MORE DIVINE PERFECTION

ceiveth; somewhat it seeketh, and what that

is directly it knoweth not, yet very intentive RICHARD HOOKER

desire thereof doth so incite it, that all other [From Ecclesiastical Polity, Book 1, ch. xi.] known delights and pleasures are laid aside, Now if men had not naturally this de

they give place to the search of this but only sire to be happy, how were it possible that

suspected desire. If the soul of man did all men should have it? All men have.

serve only to give him being in this life, Therefore this desire in man is natural. It

then things appertaining unto this life would is not in our power not to do the same; how

content him, as we see they do other creashould it then be in our power to do it

tures; which creatures enjoying what they coldly or remissly? So that our desire being live by seek no further, but in this contentanatural is also in that degree of earnestness tion do show a kind of acknowledgment that whereunto nothing can be added. And is it there is no higher good which doth any way probable that God should frame the hearts / belong unto them. With us it is otherwise.


For although the beauties, riches, honors, sciences, virtues, and perfections of all men living, were in the present possession of one; yet somewhat beyond and above all this there would still be sought and earnestly thirsted for. So that Nature even in this life doth plainly claim and call for a more divine perfection than either of these two that have been mentioned.



[The Faerie Queene, Book II, Canto VII)

His yron cote, all overgrowne with rust, Was underneath enveloped with gold; Whose glistring glosse, darkned with filthy

dust, Well yet appeared to have beene of old A worke of rich entayle and curious mould, Woven with antickes and wyld ymagery; And in his lap a masse of coyne he told, And turned upside downe, to feede his

eye And covetous desire with his huge threasury.

5 And round about him lay on every side Great heapes of gold that never could be

spent; Of which some were rude owre, not purifide Of Mulcibers devouring element; Some others were new driven, and distent Into great Ingowes and to wedges square; Some in round plates withouten moniment; But most were stampt, and in their metal

bare The antique shapes of kings and kesars

straunge and rare.


1 As Pilot well expert in perilous wave, That to a stedfast starre his course hath

bent, When foggy mistes or cloudy tempests have The faithfull light of that faire lampe

yblent, And cover'd heaven with hideous dreriment, Upon his card and compas firmes his eye, The maysters of his long experiment, And to them does the steddy helme apply, Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward fly;

2 So Guyon having lost his trustie guyde, Late left beyond that Ydle lake, proceedes Yet on his way, of none accompanyde;' And evermore himselfe with comfort feedes Of his own vertues and praise-worthie dedes. So, long he yode, yet no 'adventure found, Which fame of her shrill trompet worthy

reedes; For still he traveild through wide wastefull

ground, That nought but desert wildernesse shewed all around.

3 At last he came unto a gloomy glade, Cover'd with boughes and shrubs from heav

ens light, Whereas he sitting found in secret shade An uncouth, salvage, and uncivile wight, Of griesly hew and fowle ill favour'd sight; His face with smoke was tand, and eies were

bleard, His head and beard with sout were ill

bedight, His cole-blacke hands did seem to have been

seard In smythes fire-spitting forge, and nayles

like clawes appeard.

Soone as he Guyon saw, in great affright
And haste he rose for to remove aside
Those pretious hils from straungers envious

sight, And downe them poured through an hole

full wide Into the hollow earth, them there to hide. But Guyon, lightly to him leaping, stayd His hand that trembled as one terrifyde; And though himselfe were at the sight

dismayd, Yet him perforce restraynd, and to him

doubtfull sayd:


“What art thou, man, (if man at all thou

art) That here in desert hast thine habitaunce, And these rich hils of welth doest hide apart From the worldes eye, and from her right

usaunce?Thereat, with staring eyes fixed askaunce, In great disdaine he answerd; “Hardy

Elfe, That darest view my direful countenaunce, I read thee rash and heedlesse of thy selfe, To trouble my still seate, and heapes of pre

tious pelfe.

8 “God of the world and worldlings I me call, Great Mammon, greatest god below the skye, That of my plenty poure out unto all, And unto none my graces do envye: Riches, renowme, and principality, Honour, estate, and all this worldes good, For which men swinck and sweat inces

santly, Fro me do flow into an ample flood, And in the hollow earth have their eternall brood.

9 "Wherefore, if me thou deigne to serve and


And him that raignd into his rowme thrust

downe, And whom I lust do heape with glory and renowne?

12 “All otherwise” (saide he) "I riches read, And deeme them roote of all disquietnesse; First got with guile, and then preserv'd

with dread, And after spent with pride and lavishnesse, Leaving behind them griefe and heavinesse: Infinite mischiefes of them doe arize, Strife and debate, bloodshed and bitter

nesse, Outrageous wrong, and hellish covetize, That noble heart as great dishonour doth despize.

13 “Ne thine be kingdomes, ne the scepters

thine; But realmes and rulers thou doest both con

found, And loyall truth to treason doest incline: Witnesse the guiltlesse blood pourd oft on

ground, The crowned often slaine, the slayer cround; The sacred Diademe in peeces rent, And purple robe gored with many a wound, Castles surprizd, great cities sackt and

brent: So mak'st thou kings, and gaynest wrong

full government.

At thy command lo! all these mountaines

bee: Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew, All these may not suffise, there shall to thee Ten times so much be nombred francke and

free.” “Mammon," (said he) "thy godheads vaunt

is vaine, And idle offers of thy golden fee; To them that covet such eye-glutting gaine Proffer thy giftes, and fitter servaunts entertaine.

10 “Me ill besits, that in der-doing armes And honours suit my vowed daies do spend, Unto thy bounteous baytes and pleasing

charmes, With which weake men thou witchest, to at

tend; Regard of worldly mucke doth fowly blend, And low abase the high heroicke spright, That joyes for crownes and kingdomes to

contend; Faire shields, gay steedes, bright armes be

my delight; Those be the riches fit for an advent'rous knight.”

11 “Vaine glorious Elfe" (saide he) "doest not

thou weet, That money can thy wantes at will sup

ply? Sheilds, steeds, and armes, and all things

for thee meet, It can purvay in twinckling of an eye; And crownes and kingdomes to thee mul

tiply. Do not I kings create, and throw the

14 "Long were to tell the troublous stormes that

tosse The private state, and make the life an

sweet : Who swelling sayles in Caspian sea doth

crosse, And in frayle wood on Adrian gulf doth

fleet, Doth not, I weene, so many evils meet." Then Mammon wexing wroth, “And why

then," sayd, “Are mortall men so fond and undiscreet So evill thing to seeke unto their ayd, And having not complaine, and having it upbrayd ?"

15 "Indeede," (quoth he) "through fowle in

temperaunce, Frayle men are oft captiv'd to covetise; But would they thinke with how small al



Sometimes to him that low in dust doth ly,


Untroubled Nature doth her selfe suffise, Ne wote I but thou didst these goods be-
Such superfluities they would despise,
Which with sad cares empeach our native From rightfull owner by unrighteous lot,

Or that bloodguiltinesse or guile them blot.” At the well-head the purest streames arise; “Perdy,” (quoth he) “yet never eie did vew, But mucky filth his braunching armes an- Ne tong did tell, ne hand these handled not; noyes,

But safe I have them kept in secret mew And with uncomely weedes the gentle wave From hevens sight, and powre of al which accloyes.

them poursew." 16

20 "The antique world, in his first flowring

“What secret place” (quoth he) "can safely youth,

hold Fownd no defect in his Creators grace; But with glad thankes, and unreproved

So huge a masse, and hide from heavens eie? truth,

Or where hast thou thy wonne, that so much The gifts of soveraine bounty did em

gold brace:

Thou canst preserve from wrong and rob

bery ?" Like Angels life was then mens happy cace; But later ages pride, like corn-fed steed,

"Come thou,” (quoth he) "and see.” So by

and by Abusd her plenty and fat swolne encrease To all licentious lust, and gan exceed

Through that thick covert he him led, and

fownd The measure of her meane and naturall first need.

A darkesome way, which no man could des17


That deep descended through the hollow "Then gan a cursed hand the quiet wombe ground, Of his great Grandmother with steele to And was with dread, and horror compassed wound,

arownd. And the hid treasures in her sacred tombe

21 With Sacriledge to dig. Therein he found Fountaines of gold and silver to abound,

At length they came into a larger space, Of which the matter of his huge desire

That stretcht itselfe into an ample playne; And pompous pride eftsoones he did com

Through which a beaten broad high way did pound;

trace, Then avarice gan through his veines inspire That streight did lead to Plutoes griesly His greedy flames and kindled life-devour- rayne. ing fire."

By that wayes side there sate internall


And fast beside him sat tumultuous Strife: "Sonne," (said he then) “lett be thy bitter

The one in hand an yron whip did strayne, scorne,

The other brandished a bloody knife; And leave the rudenesse of that antique age

And both did gnash their teeth, and both To them that liv'd therin in state forlorne:

did threten life. Thou, that doest live in later times, must wage

22 Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold

On thother side in one consort there sate engage. If then thee list my offred grace to use,

Cruell Revenge, and rancorous Despight, Take what thou please of all this surplus

Disloyall Treason, and hart-burning Hate;

But gnawing Gealosy, out of their sight age;

Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bight; If thee list not, leave have thou to refuse: But thing refused doe not afterward ac

And trembling Feare still to and fro did


And found no place wher safe he shroud him 19

might: "Me list not” (said the Elfin knight) "re- Lamenting Sorrow did in darknes lye, ceave

And shame his ugly face did hide from Thing offred, till I know it well be got ;

living eye.





27 And over them sad horror with grim hew Well hoped hee, ere long that hardy guest, Did alwaies sore, beating his yron wings;

If ever covetous hand, or lustfull eye, And after him Owles and Night-ravens flew, Or lips he lays on thing that likte him best, The hatefull messengers of heavy things,

Or ever sleepe his eie-strings did untye, Of death and dolor telling sad tidings;

Should be his pray. And therefore still on

hye Whiles sad Celeno, sitting on a clifte, A song of bale and bitter sorrow sings, He over him did hold his cruell clawes, That hart of flint asonder could have rifte;

Threatning with greedy gripe to doe him Which having ended after him she flyeth

dye, swifte.

And rend in peeces with his ravenous pawes, 24

If ever he transgrest the fatall Stygian

lawes. All these before the gates of Pluto lay,

28 By whom they passing spake unto them nought;

That houses forme within was rude and But th' Elfin knight with wonder all the way

strong, Did feed his eyes, and fild his inner thought. Lyke an huge cave hewne out of rocky clifte, At last him to a litle dore he brought,

From whose rough vaut the ragged breaches That to the gate of Hell, which gaped wide,

hong Was next adjoyning, ne them parted ought:

Embost with massy gold of glorious gifte, Betwixt them both was but a litle stride,

And with rich metall loaded every rifte, That did the house of Richesse from hell- That heavy ruine they did seeme to threatt; mouth divide.

And over them Arachne high did lifte
Her cunning web, and spred her subtile


Enwrapped in fowle smoke and clouds more Before the dore sat selfe-consuming Care,

black then Jett. Day and night keeping wary watch and ward,

29 For feare least Force or Fraud should un

Both roofe, and floore, and walls, were all Breake in, and spoile the treasure there in

of gold, gard:

But overgrowne with dust and old decay, Ne would he suffer Sleepe once thither-ward And hid in darkenes, that none could behold Approch albe his drowsy den were next; The hew thereof; for vew of cherefull day For next to death is Sleepe to be compard; Did never in that house it selfe display, Therefore his house is unto his annext: But a faint shadow of uncertein light: Here Sleep, ther Richesse, and Hel-gate Such as a lamp, whose life does fade away, them both betwext.

Or as the Moone, cloathed with clowdy

night, 26

Does show to him that walkes in feare and

sad affright. So soon as Mammon there arrivd, the dore

30 To him did open and affoorded way: Him followed eke Sir Guyon evermore, In all that rowme was nothing to be seene Ne darkenesse him, ne daunger might dis- But huge great yron chests, and coffers may.

strong, Soone as he entred was, the dore streight All bard with double bends, that none could

way Did shutt, and from behind it forth there Them to efforce by violence or wrong: lept

On every side they placed were along; An ugly feend, more fowle then dismall But all the grownd with sculs was scattered, day,

And dead mens bones, which round about The which with monstrous stalke behind him were flong; stept,

Whose lives, it seemed, whilome there were And ever as he went dew watch upon him shed, kept.

And their vile carcases now left unburied.



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