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15. The xv. Chapter. Whether anie man can be counted happie, while h

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The xv. Chapter. Whether anie man can be counted happie, while he liueth in this world.

1 ARistotle in his first booke of Ethiks, disputing whither a man may be accounted happie in this life, saith; that Since vnto all men, though they liue iustlie and well, may happen the same things that hapned vnto Priamus, 2 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 vnder 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 vs, 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 haue 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 vnto 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, 3 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 vnto 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 haue vs 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 vnto the king of the Lydians, whose name was Croesus, who outragiouslie boasting of his substance, riches, 4 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 vnto 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.

5 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 haue 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 vs 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 haue 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 vnto 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 vs, 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 fro~ 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 vs, 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 ⟨…⟩, & ⟨…⟩; the first signifieth the vices, which we of our own choise and iudgement doo ioine vnto vs: but the other signifieth the mischances which happen vnto vs against our wils. Vnto 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 vs 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 vnto 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 haue some euill & good things doone vnto him, though he perceiue it not; as if some certeine honour be decréed vnot him without his knowledge, if there happen vnto him some great inheritance, if there be a faire child borne vnto 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 vs sée, how anie good or euill things may be said to belong vnto them, 6 which are absent, and haue no perceiuing of them: neither doo I thinke, that this is otherwise doone, but bicause they be referred vnto those men, and that they which doo sée those things, saie & iudge that they belong vnto them; bicause they perceiue that some of those commodities or discommodities, which are doone, doo come vnto 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 haue 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, 7 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 haue both good and euill things doone vnto 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 vnto 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; ⟨…⟩ that is, Somtime the daie is a stepmother, and somtime a mother. Furthermore, by this word ⟨…⟩ he vnderstandeth nothing else, than a space or distance of time, that endeth by the reuolution either of yéeres or moneths. Hereof he will haue 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 vnto 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 haue their ghosts to be pacified by the chéefest sacrifice. And why he said [Not at anie time] the reason is, bicause they might haue 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 vnto 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 vs and the dead were quite broken off. But let vs 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 vnto 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 haue sometime béene true of the time present. The opinion of these men is grounded vpon 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.

8 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 haue 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 vs, 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 haue 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 vpon 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: 9 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 haue 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 haue 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 haue 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 vnto 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.

10 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, haue 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, 11 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, 12 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 giue 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 haue 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 vs 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, 13 that a blessed man may haue 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 vnto your happie man? He answereth, 14 that 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 haue 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 giue 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 vnto vs are either prosperous, or hurtfull; 15 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; 16 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.

17 And Aristotle sheweth what maner of oppression or blemish it is; Gréefes (saith he) doo bring in these things, and are a hinderance vnto 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 giue 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 ⟨…⟩, 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 vs not from the right state of our mind. 18 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 vnto 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 vpon 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 vnto 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 ⟨…⟩; 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, 19 what an happie man should doo, when by chance he falleth into aduersities; Of those things (saith he) which are ap⟨…⟩ointed vnto 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 haue not alwaies méete instruments, and fit matter; yet doo they neuer so deale, as they will suffer those things which are granted vnto 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, 20 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 fro~ 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. 21 Albeit I am not ignorant, that some doo reduce the same vnto 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 haue 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 vnto 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, 22 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 haue 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 haue 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 vnto 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 haue not fullie lost the same.

9 At the last he appointeth a certeine meane betwéene a blessed and a miserable man, 23 and in that place accounteth that man happie, which is ouerwhelmed with gréeuous afflictions. Trulie there haue 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. 24 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, 25 whether it can by anie meanes be, that at length a happie man should become miserable? Trulie there haue béene some found, which being oppressed with calamities, haue in like maner béene so much changed with fortune, that at the length also they haue yéelded to slothfulnes, and to verie great vices; and haue 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, vnder 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, haue small or no moment at all vnto 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 vnto a full felicitie, especiallie if we speake of the same according to a ciuill sense. 26 And some doo maruell how it commeth to passe, that if vile actions and vices doo suffice vnto miserie; why vertue and honest actions are not sufficient vnto 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, vnto health is required a temperature and equalitie of all the humors; whereas vnto 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, 27 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 vnto 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 vnto vs 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 haue risen from so great euils; but when could he euer haue renewed his citie ouerthrowne? When could he haue restored his kingdome to the ancient forme and glorie? When could he haue 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 vnto 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 ma~ 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.

28 11 Now remaineth to shew, how these things, which haue 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, 29 and so let him eate of this bread, and drinke of this cup. And we haue 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 vnto vs: 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 vs, 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 haue 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 vnto these; namelie, the reprobation of God, the want of gods spirit, and infidelitie. He that is subiect vnto 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; 30 The foundation standeth sure, the Lord knoweth who be his. And by faith and grace, the Lord would haue vs to be iustified; not by works, 31 that the promise might be firme, and that wée might not stumble at those things, hauing respect to our infirmitie. Againe, Paule saith; 32 I knowe whome I haue beleeued vpon, 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, 33 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 vs from the loue of God? Shall tribulation, or anguish, 34 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, 35 but All things proceed happilie to them that loue God. Yea, and he will most of all shine in aduersities; Tribulation worketh patience; 36 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 haue the most readie medicine of repentance, and that alwaies at hand. In like maner, our happie man, of those things which are ministred vnto 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 vnto God, and doo drawe them from the world. For our men can not be blessed, vnlesse they be poore in spirit.

← 14. The xiiij. Chapter. Of Felicitie in · Contents · 16. The xvj. Chapter. Of Prouidence; vpon →

Footnotes

  1. Out of the com. vpon Aristotles Ethiks. ↩

  2. Whether anie man can be called happie in this life. ↩

  3. The miserable fall of Priamus. ↩

  4. The speech that was betweene Cresus and Solon. ↩

  5. Solons saieng examined. ↩

  6. How good and euill things may be theirs which be absent. ↩

  7. That the things done here belong not to the dead. ↩

  8. That the good and euill of man standeth not in fortune. ↩

  9. That nothing is more vnstable than fortune, nor more stable than actions of virtue. ↩

  10. How blessednes can be the cause of vertues, and yet be produced of them. ↩

  11. A distinction of causes. ↩

  12. Which vertues be of most stedfastnes. ↩

  13. That a blessed man may be called happie while he liueth. ↩

  14. How he may be happie which is assailed by misfortunes ↩

  15. Small matters, be they aduerse, or be they prosperous, are of no moment to change life. ↩

  16. Great prosperitie increaseth felicitie in the blessed. ↩

  17. Greeuous mishaps do presse felicitie, but not abolish it in the godlie. ↩

  18. That aduersities do not hinder felicitie. ↩

  19. What a blessed man shall doo if he fall into aduersitie, ↩

  20. Whether aduersities doo rather beautifie felicitie or blemish it. ↩

  21. Vnto what kind of cause the instrument belongeth. ↩

  22. Wherein instruments and matter doo differ. ↩

  23. A meane betweene blessed and miserable. A difference betweene blessed and happie. ↩

  24. How stablenes and mutablenes may agree togither in a blessed man. ↩

  25. Whether a happie man may becom miserable. ↩

  26. Why vices doo suffice vnto miserie, but not vertue vnto felicitie. ↩

  27. Whether a man from great miserie may returne to felicitie. ↩

  28. How the things declared in this common place, agree with the scriptures. ↩

    1. Cor. 11, verse. 28. Rom. 8, 16.
    ↩
    1. Tim. 2, 19.
    ↩

  31. Rom. 4, 16. ↩

    1. Tim. 1, 12.
    ↩

  33. Phil. 4, 12. ↩

  34. Rom. 8, 35. ↩

  35. Iohn. 28. ↩

  36. Rom. 5, 3. ↩

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