# Familiar Colloquies/Ichthyophagia; or, Fish-eating

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ICHTHYOPHAGIA; OR, FISH-EATING.
A Butcher and a Salt-Fishmonger.
Bu. Tell me, silly seller of salt fish, have you not bought a halter yet? Fi. A halter, butcher? Bu. Yes, I say an halter. Fi. For what? Bu. To hang yourself with. Fi. Let them buy halters that want them, I am not weary of my life yet. Bu. But you will be weary of it quickly. Fi. God send that may rather be your case than mine. What is the matter? Bu. I will tell you if you do not know. Here is a time coming upon you that you and your brother tradesmen will be all starved to death, and ready to hang yourselves out of the way. Fi. Easy, easy, butcher, God send this may be our enemies' case and not ours. But prithee, butcher, how came you to be a fortuneteller all on a sudden, to divine such a calamity? Bu. It is no guess work, I promise you; do not flatter yourself, it is matter of fact. Fi. You fright me out of my wits; if you have anything to say let us have it out.
Bu. I will tell you to your cost. Here is a dispensation of the college of cardinals coming out for everybody to eat what he lists. Then what will you and your fraternity do but be starved to death in the midst of your heaps of stinking salt fish? Fi. They that have a mind to it may feed upon snails or nettles with all my heart. But is there a prohibition that nobody shall eat fish? Bu. No, but everybody is at liberty to eat flesh that has a mind to it. Fi. If what you predict be true, you rather deserve to be hanged than I; and if it be false, you have more need to buy a halter. For I hope for a better trade for the future. Bu. You may have stock enough by you, but your bellyful of fasting. But if you will hear the best of the story you may live a little cleanlier than you used to do, and not have occasion to wipe your snotty, scabby nose upon your elbow. Fi. Ha, ha, now it has come out at last: the kettle calls the pot black. Is there any part of a butcher cleaner and sweeter than his backside? I wish what you say were true, but I am afraid you only feed me with fancies.
Bu. What I tell you is too true to make a jest on. But, prithee, how do you promise yourself a better trade upon this consideration? Fi. Because peopleare of that humour that they are most desirous of that which is forbidden. Bu. What, then? Fi. When they are at liberty to eat flesh, they will eat least of it; and then no entertainment will be accounted noble but what has fish at it, as it used to be in old time. So I shall be glad if there be a licence to eat flesh. And I wish heartily that the eating fish were forbidden too, then people would covet it more earnestly. Bu. Well wished indeed. I should wish so too if I were like you, and aimed at nothing but getting money, for the sake of which thou sendest that lumpish, flesh-fed soul of thine to the devil.
Fi. You are very smart upon me, but what you say is very silly. What is it puts the see of Rome upon the relaxing the law for prohibiting eating of flesh, that has been observed for so many ages? Bu. Why, indeed, they have had a mind to do it a great while ago, and for ​this reason, that they think, as it really is, that the city is defiled by salt-fish mongers; the land, the waters, rivers, air, and fire are infected, and all the other elements, if there be any more, men’s bodies corrupted and filled with putrid humours by the eating of fish; from whence proceed fevers, consumptions, gouts, falling-sicknesses, leprosies, and what not of diseases. Fi. But, prithee, tell me, Hippocrates, how it comes to pass that in well-governed cities it is forbid to kill oxen and hogs within the walls of the city? for it would tend more to the healthfulness of the city if they were restrained from killing sheep in it too. Why is there a certain place appointed for butchers apart from others, but lest if they had liberty to rove about and settle anywhere, they should infect the whole city? Is there any kind of stink so pestilential as that of the corrupted blood and gore of beasts? Bu. They are mere perfumes compared to stinking fish.
Fi. You, perhaps, may think them perfumes, but it is a sign the magistrates thought otherwise that expelled you the city. Besides that, how fragrant your slaughter-houses smell is very plainly seen, by people stopping their noses when they pass by them, and that they had rather have ten bawds for their neighbous than one butcher. Bu. Whole ponds and rivers are little enough for you to wash your stinking salt fish in; for, as the old saying is, You do but attempt to wash the blackamore white; for a fish will always smell like a fish though you perfume it. Nor is it to be wondered at that they smell so strong when they are dead, when many stink alive, and as soon as they are taken. Flesh, pickled up, is so far from stinking that it may be preserved many years, and smell as sweet as a violet at last; nay, being but salted up with common salt will never stink; and being hung up a drying in smoke, or wind, will have no ill scent. But do what you will to a fish it will smell like a fish still. It is evident there is no stink to be compared to that of fish; that fish corrupts even salt itself, which was given for the very end of preserving things from putrefaction, by shutting, binding up, and also forcing out that which should produce anything nauseous, and drying up the humours within from whence putrefaction might come: fish is the only thing on which salt loses its efficacy.
It may be some nice beau or other may stop his nose as he passes by a butcher’s shop, but nobody can bear to be in the boat where your salt fish is. If a traveller chance to meet a cart laden with salt fish on the road, how does he run away, stop his nose, hawk and spit, and curse the stinking cargo? And if it were possible that salt fish could be carried sweet into the city, as we do our beef when killed and dressed, the law would be laid aside. But besides, what can you say as to them that stink while they are eaten? and besides, how often do we see your condemned ware thrown into the rivers by the clerks of the markets, and a fine put upoft you for selling it? And we should see that oftener, but that they, corrupted by you, do not so much regard the city’s good as their own profit. Nor is this the only thing that you are notorious for; but besides that, there is a wicked combination among you to hinder fresh from coming to town.
Fi. Pray, did nobody ever know a butcher fined for killing measled pork, or selling mutton drowned in a ditch, or maggoty shoulders of mutton daubed over with fresh blood, to make them look ​as if new killed? Bu. But nobody ever knew such an instance of us as has been known by you lately, that nine persons were poisoned by one eel baked in a pie. And this is what you furnish citizens’ tables with. Fi. What you speak of was an accident; and nobody can help that, when it pleases God it shall fall out so. But it is a daily practice with you to sell young cats for rabbits, and puppies for hares, if people do not know them by their ears and rough feet; not to speak of your meat-pies made of dead men’s flesh.
Bu. That which you charge me with is the failings of men in common; and let them defend themselves that are guilty of the fault. I make my comparison between gain and gain. By the same reason you may condemn gardeners, who, by mistake, sell henbane for coleworts; or apothecaries, who administer poison instead of antidotes. There is no trade or calling that is not liable to these mistakes. But you, when you act the most faithfully in your calling, sell that which is poison. If, indeed, you sold a cramp-fish, a water-snake, or a sea-hare, caught among other fish, it would be an accident rather than a fault. Nor do I think it any more to be imputed to you than to a physician, that sometimes kills the patient he undertakes to cure. And this might be excusable if you only put off your stinking wares in the winter season; then the cold might mitigate the contagiousness of infection; but you add putrid matter to the fire of the summer season, and render autumn, which is of itself a sickly season, more sickly. And in the spring of the year, when the humours that have been locked up begin to flow to the hazard of the body, then for two whole months you exercise your tyranny and corrupt the infancy of the springing year, by bringing an old age upon it. And when nature is busied to purge the body from unwholesome juices and make it fresh and blooming with new, you throw into it more stinks and corruption; so that if there be any vicious humours in the body you increase them, adding worse to bad, and not only so, but corrupting the good juices of the body. But this might be borne with too if you only injured the body; but inasmuch as by different foods the organs of the mind are vitiated, you vitiate the very minds themselves. So that do but mind your fish-eaters, how like fishes do they look, pale, stinking, stupid, and mute?
Fi. Oh, rare Thales! But, prithee, how wise are they that live upon beets'? just as much as the beets themselves. What sort of fellows are they that feed upon beef, mutton, and goats' flesh? truly, like oxen, sheep, and goats themselves. You sell kids for a mighty delicacy, and yet this creature is very bad for the falling-sickness, and brings that distemper upon the flesh-eaters. Were it not better to satisfy a craving appetite with salt fish? Bu. Do you think, then, that all that your naturalists write is true? But were what they say ever so true, it is certain that to some persons that are inclinable to diseases, those things that are good of themselves prove hurtful. We sell kids for those that are troubled with the hectic, or phthisic, but not for those that have the vapours.
Fi. If the eating of fish be so prejudicial as you would insinuate, how comes it about that our superiors permit us to sell our ware the whole year, and make you keep holiday for a good part of it? Bu. That is none of my bxisiness to answer. But it may be this was the ​contrivance of wicked doctors, that they might get the more money. Fi. I do not know what doctors they are that you speak of; for I am sure none are greater enemies to fish than they are. Bu. Goodman coxcomb, to set you right in this matter, it is not for your sake nor the love of fish; for none are more adverse than they to the eating it, but it is their own game they play. The more people are troubled with coughs, consumptions, and chronic distempers, the more they get by it.
Fi. I will not advocate for doctors in this matter, let them avenge their own quarrel when they get thee into their clutches. The ancient sanctimony of life, the authority of the most approved, the majesty of bishops, and the public usage of Christian nations are enough for my purpose; all which, if you tax with madness, I had rather be mad with them than be sober with butchers. Bu. You decline being an advocate for doctors, and so do I to be an accuser or censurer of the ancients, or common custom. Those it is my custom to revere, but not revile. Fi. You are more cautious than pious in this point, or I am mistaken, in you, butcher. Bu. In my opinion, they are the wisest that have least to do with those that carry thunderbolts in their hands. But, however, I will not conceal what I understand from my Bible, translated into my mother tongue, that I sometimes read. Fi. What now, the butcher is turned parson too.
Bu. I am of the opinion that mankind, in the first ages, being newly formed out of primitive clay, were of more healthful constitutions. This appears by their vivacity. More than that, I believe paradise was a place commodiously situated, and in a very healthy climate. Such bodies, in such a situation, might be sustained without food, by breathing the very air and fragrancy of herbs, trees, and flowers, that exhaled everywhere, and especially the earth, spontaneously producing all things in abundance without man’s sweating or toiling, who was neither infected with distempers nor old age. The dressing of such a garden was not a toil, but rather a pleasure. Fi. Hitherto you seem to be right. Bu. Of the various increase of so fertile a garden nothing was prohibited but the use of one single tree. Fi. That is true too. Bu. And that for this reason only, that they might pay their acknowledgment to their Lord and Creator by obedience. Fi. All this is very right.
Bu. Moreover, I verily believe that the new earth produced everything better in its kind, and of a more nutritive juice than it does now, grown old and almost past bearing. Fi. Well, I grant it. Take that for granted. Bu. And that especially in paradise. Fi. It is very probable. Bu. If so, then eating was rather for the sake of pleasure than necessity. Fi. I have heard so. Bu. At that time to abstain from eating flesh was rather humanity than sanctity. Fi. I do not know. I read that the eating of flesh was permitted after the flood, but I do not read it was forbidden before. But to what purpose were it to permit it if it were permitted before? Bu. Why do not we eat frogs? Not because they are forbidden, but because we have an aversion to them. How can you tell whether God might not instruct man what food human nature required, and not what He permitted? Fi. I cannot divine.
Bu. But, presently after man’s creation, we read, “Rule ye over ​the fish of the sea, the fowls of the air, and every living creature that inoveth upon the face of the earth.” What use was there of the government of them, if it were not lawful to eat them? Fi. O cruel master! do you eat your men and maid-servants, your wife and children? Why don’t you at the same time eat your chamber-pot, for you are master of that too? Bu. But, prithee, hear me again, thou silly saltfishmonger. There is a real use of other things, and not a bare name of dominion only. A horse carries me upon its back, and a camel my baggage, but what use are fish of but to be eaten? Fi. As if there were not abundance of fish that are good for physic. And besides, there are a great many that were created merely for the sake of contemplation, and to carry us forth to admire their Creator. It may be you don’t believe that dolphins carry men on their backs. In the last place, there are some fish that are useful to foretell a tempest, as the echinus or sea-urchin; and would you not wish to have such a servant in your own house?
Bu. Suppose that be granted, that before the flood it was not lawful to eat any food but the fruits of the earth, it was no great matter to abstain from those things the necessity of the body did not require, and in the killing of which was cruelty; yet you will allow that in the beginning the eating of living creatures was permitted, by reason of the weakness of human bodies. The deluge had brought in a cold temperament, and at this time we see those that live in cold climates are greater eaters than others in hotter, and the flood had either quite destroyed or at least spoiled the products of the earth. Fi. That is granted. Bu. And yet after the deluge they lived above two hundred years. Fi. I believe they did. Bu. Why then did God afterwards, as Moses commanded, tie up persons of a weaker constitution and shorter lived to some particular kinds of living creatures, which He permitted to those of a stronger without exception? Fi. Just as if it were my province to give a reason for whab God did. But I believe that God did then as masters do now, who contract their indulgence towards their servants when they see them abuse their lenity. So we forbear to feed a horse with oats and beans when he grows pampered and too mettlesome, give him hay more sparingly, and ride him with a curb bridle and a sharper spur. Mankind had thrown off all reverence of the Deity, and lived as licentiously as if there was no God at all. Upon this account the lattices of the law and bars of ceremonies, the bridles of threatenings and precepts, were made use of to bring them to know themselves. Bu. What then, do those bars of the law hold us in at this day too? Fi. Inasmuch as the asperity of carnal servitude is removed, we being by the gospel adopted sons of God, there being an augmentation of grace, there is a diminution of the number of precepts.
Bu. How comes it to pass that when God calls His covenant everlasting, and Christ denies that He dissolved the law, but fulfilled it, by what confidence, I say, do men of after-ages dare to abrogate good part of it? Fi. That law was not given to the Gentiles, and therefore it seemed meet to the apostles not to burden them with the load of circumcision, lest, as the Jews even at this day do, they should rather place the hope of their salvation in corporeal observances, than in faith and love towards God. Bu. I forbear to speak of the Gen​tiles, what scripture is there that says plainly of the Jews, that if they did embrace the gospel they should be freed from the servitude of the Mosaical law?
Fi. That was prophesied by the prophets, who promise a new covenant and a new heart, and introduce God as abhorring the festival days of the Jews, aversating their meat-offerings, abhorring their fasts, rejecting their gifts, and desiring a people of circumcised hearts; and the Lord himself confirmed what they had promised, who holding forth to His disciples His body and blood, calls it the New Testament. If nothing be abolished of the old, why is this called a new one? The Lord did not only abrogate the Jewish choice of meats by His example, but by His doctrine, when He denies that man is defiled by meats which go into the stomach, and pass thence into the draught. He teaches Peter the same by a vision, and Peter himself shews the same, in that he, with Paul and others, ate of common meats from which the law commanded them to abstain. Paul treats in this manner everywhere in his epistles, nor is there any doubt but what Christians now practise was handed down to us by tradition from the apostles themselves. So that the Jews were not so properly set at liberty as weaned from superstition as from the milk to which they had been accustomed and made familiar, but now was grown out of season.
Neither is the law abrogated, but it is but requisite that that part of it should give way which was not essential. Leaves and flowers bespeak fruit coming; and when a tree is loaded with that nobody covets the leaves. Nor is anybody sorry that his son’s puerility is gone when maturity of age is come. Nor does anybody call for candles and torches when the sun is got above the horizon. Nor does a schoolmaster complain if a son, being come to man’s estate, puts in his claim for freedom, and in his turn has the master under his tuition. A pledge ceases to be a pledge when the thing promised is produced. The spouse comforts herself with the bridegroom’s letters till she is married she kisses his presents, embraces his picture; but when she comes to enjoy his company she disregards those things she before admired for the sake of it. The Jews at first were very hardly brought off from those things they had been accustomed to, which is just as if a child that had been used to suck, being grown a lusty fellow, should cry for the breast and slight more solid food. So they were forced, as it were, from those figures, shadows, and temporary comforts, that they might entirely turn themselves to Him whom that law had promised and shadowed out.
Bu. Who would have expected so much divinity from a seller of salt fish? Fi. I used to serve the Dominican college in our city with fish, and by that means they often dine with me, and I sometimes with them, and I gathered these things from their discourses. Bu. In truth, instead of a seller of salt fish, you deserve to be a seller of fresh fish. But, prithee, tell me if you were a Jew (for I cannot very well tell whether you are one or not), and you were like to be starved with hunger, would you eat swine’s flesh or rather die? Fi. I cannot very well tell what I should do, for I do not yet well understand: what I ought to do. Bu. God has forbid both, “Thou shalt not kill,” and “Thou shalt not eat swine’s flesh.” In such a case as this, which precept must give way to the other? ​Fi. In the first place, it does not appear that God has forbidden the eating swine’s flesh, meaning that a man should rather be accessory to his own death than eat it. For the Lord excuses David in that he ate shewbread contrary to the letter of the law. And in the Babylonish captivity many things were omitted by the Jews which were required by the law. Secondly, I am of opinion that the law which nature has dictated, and therefore is perpetual and inviolable, ought to be accounted the more obligatory, which never was nor ever will be abrogated. Bu. But why, then, were the Maccabees so much commended that chose rather to die than eat swine’s flesh? Fi. I suppose because this eating being required by the king, did comprise in itself a denial in the general of the law of the country; as circumcision, which the Jews endeavoured to obtrude on the Gentiles, carried in it a profession of the whole law, just as money given in earnest obliges to the performance of the whole contract.
Bu. Well, then, if this more gross part of the law is justly taken away, after the exhibition of the gospel, by what authority are either the same or like things imposed upon us, especially when our Lord calls His yoke an easy one, and Peter, in the Acts of the Apostles, calls the law of the Jews a hard one, which neither they nor their fathers were able to bear! Circumcision is taken away, but baptism came in the room of it, and, indeed, I was about to say, with a harder condition. That was deferred till the eighth day; and if anything happened to the child in that time, the vow of circumcision was taken for circumcision itself. But we dip children, scarce well got out of the dark caverns of the mother’s womb, all over in cold water, which has stood a long time in a stony font (not to say while it stinks), and if it chance to die upon the first day, or in its very ingress into the world, though there be no fault neither in its parents nor friends, the poor babe is doomed to eternal damnation. Fi. They do say so indeed.
Bu. The sabbath is abrogated; nay, indeed, not abrogated, but translated to the Sunday. What does it signify? The Mosaic law enjoined a few fast days; but what a number have we added to them? And as to the choice of meats, how much freer were the Jews than we are, who were at liberty to eat sheep, capons, partridges, and kids all the year round? They were forbid the use of no garment, but what was mixed with linen and woollen. But now, besides the appointed and forbidden forms and colours of a great number of garments, the head must be shaven too, some after one manner, and some another. Not to mention that heavy burden of confession, the wallets of human constitutions, tithes, and those not single ones neither; matrimony screwed up into too narrow a compass, the new laws of affinity, and abundance of other things, which render the Jews’ circumstances much more easy than ours.
Fi. Indeed, butcher, you are much out of the way, the yoke of Christ is not to be accounted for by that rule you imagine. A Christian is tied up in many points, and to harder circumstances, and liable to a greater punishment. But to make amends for this, the greater strength of faith and love that is added makes those things pleasant which by nature are burdensome. Bu. Pray, tell me why, when the Holy Spirit descended from heaven of old, in the shape of fiery tongues, and enriched the hearts of believers with a more copious gift of faitli ​and charity, why was the burden of the law taken away from them, as from persons weak, and in danger, under an unequal yoke? Why did Peter by the inspiration of the Spirit call it an intolerable burden?? Fi. It was taken away on one part, lest Judaism, as it had begun, should overwhelm the glory of the gospel; and lest the Gentiles, by the stumbling block of the law, should be alienated from Christ, among whom there were many weak persons, who were in a double danger—on the one hand, lest they should believe there was no salvation to be had without the observation of the law; and on the other hand, lest they should rather choose to remain in paganism, than take upon them the yoke of the Mosaic law. It was necessary to allure these weak minds, as it were, with a bait of liberty. Secondly, That they might heal them who denied there was any hope of salvation by the profession of the gospel without the observation of the law, circumcision, sabbaths, and the choice of meats, and other things of that kind, they either wholly took away, or changed into something else. And besides, whereas Peter denies that he was able to bear the burden of the law, it is not to be understood of him as to the person he then bare, when there was nothing unbearable to him, but of the stupid and weak Jews, who, though they were cloyed with it, fed upon the husk, not having any relish of the Spirit.
Bu. You argue, indeed, very smartly; but for all that, in my opinion, even at this day, there is no less reason why those carnal obligations that are arbitrary, and not obligatory, should be taken away. Fi. Why so ]
Bu. I lately saw the whole world described in a large map; from thence I learned how small a part of the world it was that truly and sincerely professed the Christian religion. One small part of Europe to the east, and another towards the north; the third inclining towards the soiith, but reaching but a little way; and the fourth part, which is Poland, inclining towards the east. All the rest of the world is either possessed by barbarians or such as differ but very little from brute beasts; or schismatics, or heretics, or both. Fi. But did you not mind the southern shore, and the Christian islands that lay scattered about it? Bu. I saw them, and learned that there were great spoils brought out of them, but no Christianity carried into them. When, indeed, when there is so plentiful a harvest, it seems most advisable for the propagation of the Christian religion to do as the apostle did, who took away the burden of the Mosaic law, lest the Gentiles should fall back; so now to allure the weak, the obligations to some ceremonies should be removed, without which the world was saved in the beginning, and may now, if it hath faith and gospel charity.
Again, I both hear and see many who place religion in places, garments, meats, fasts, gestures, and songs, and for the sake of these things judge their neighbours contrary to the precept of the gospel. From whence it comes to pass, that whereas faith and charity constitute the Christian religion, they are both extinguished by those superstitions. For he is far from the faith of the gospel who depends upon these acts; and he is far from Christian charity who for the sake of meat or drink, which a person may lawfully use, exasperates his brother, for whose liberty Christ died. What bitter contentions do we see among Christians? What spiteful calumnies upon account of a gar​ment differently tied, or of different colours than what is customary, and about that sort of food which the water produces and that which the land produces? And if this evil had reached but a few, it might have been slighted. But now we see the whole world in a flame on account of these deadly contentions. These and such like things, were they removed, we should both live in greater concord, not minding ceremonies, but pressing after those things which Christ hath taught us; and the nations of the world would the more readily embrace religion were it accompanied with liberty.
Fi. But there is no salvation out of the pale of the church. Bu. I confess it. Fi. Whosoever does not own the authority of the pope is out of the pale of the church. Bu. I don’t deny that neither. Fi. But he that neglects his injunctions does not own him. Bu. But I hope a time will come that the pope, who is Clement by name, and most of all so by nature, will mitigate all these things which hitherto seem to have alienated some people from the Roman Church; that he may bring all nations to the communion of it, and will rather pursue those things that are for the good of the church than his own private interest. I hear daily complaints of yearly offerings, pardons, dispensations, and other exactions and church grievances; but I believe he will so moderate all things, that in time to come it would be impudent to complain. Fi. I wish all monarchs would do the like, and then I would not doubt but Christianity, which is now confined to a narrow compass, would extend itself, when the barbarous nations did perceive that they were called, not to human servitude, but to gospel liberty; and that they were not sought after to be made a prey of, but to a fellow-enjoyment of happiness and holiness. If once they came to be united with us, and found in us manners truly Christian, they would of their own accord offer us more than the itmost violence can extort from them.
Bu. I should soon hope to see that accomplished, if that mischievous Ate, that has engaged the two most mighty monarchs in the world in a bloody war, were sent to her place (i.e. to the dogs). Fi. I wonder that that is not done already, when nothing can be imagined more humane than Francis; and I look upon it that Charles has had principles instilled into him by his masters, that by how much the more fortune enlarges the bounds of his empire, by so much the more he increases in clemency and bounty; besides that, good humour and lenity are peculiar to his age. Bu. You will not find that they will be wanting in anything.
Fi. What, then, is it that hinders the accomplishment of that which all the world wishes for? Bu. Why, the lawyers have not yet come to an agreement about bounds and limits, and you know that the storm of a comedy always ends in the calm of a matrimony; and the tragedies of princes commonly end in the like manner. But in comedies matches are quickly made up, but among great men matters move but slowly; and it is better to have a wound long in healing than presently to break out again in an ulcer.
Fi. But do you think marriages to be firm bonds of amity? Bu. I would have them so, indeed; but I see sometimes the sharpest contentions rise from them; and when once a war arises between near kindred, it not only is more extensive, but harder to be made up. ​ Fi. I confess it, and acknowledge it to be true. Bu. But do you thiuk it fit that because of the contentions and delays of lawyers in relation to contracts, the whole world should be kept in pain? For as matters are now, there is no safety anywhere, and the worst of men take advantage of the opportunity, while thqre is neither peace nor war.
Fi. It is not my business to determine concerning the counsels of princes. But if I were Caesar, I know what I would do. Bu. Well, come on, then, you shall be Caesar, and the pope too, if you please. What is it you would do? Fi. I had rather be emperor and king of France. Bu. Well, let it be so, you shall be both of them then. Fi. I would immediately take upon me a vow of peace, and publish a truce throughout my dominions, disband my forces, and make it a capital crime for any to touch so much as a hen that was not their own. So having settled affairs to my conveniency, or rather that of the public, I would treat concerning the limits of my dominion, or the conditions of a match. Bu. Have you projected any firmer ties than those of matrimony? Fi. I think I have. Bu. Let us hear them.
Fi. Were I emperor, I would without delay thus treat with the king of France:—“My brother, some evil spirit has set this war on foot between you and me; nor do we fight for our lives, but our dominions. You, as to your part, have behaved yourself as a stout and valiant warrior; but fortune has been on my side, and of a king made you a captive. What has been your lot may be mine, and your mishap admonishes all of our human condition. We have experienced that this way of contention has been detrimental to both of us; let us engage one another after a different manner. I give you your life, and restore you your liberty, and instead of an enemy take you for my friend. Let all past animosities be forgotten, you are at free liberty to return into your own dominions, enjoy what is your own, be a good neighbour, and for the future let this be the only contention, which shall outdo the other in offices of fidelity and friendship; nor let us vie one with another which shall govern the largest dominions, but who shall govern his own with the greatest justice and goodness. In the former conflict I have bore away the prize of fortune, but in this he that gets the better shall gain far more glory. As for me, the fame of this clemency will get me more true glory than if I had added all France to my dominion; and in you a grateful mind will be more to your praise than if you had drove me quite out of Italy. Do you not envy me the praise that I am ambitious of, and I will on the other hand carry myself toward you, that you shall willingly owe an obligation to so good a friend.”
Bu. In truth, not only all France but all the world might be attached by this method. For if this ulcer should happen to be skinned over, rather than thoroughly healed by unequal terms, I am afraid that upon the first opportunity, the skin being broken, abundance of corrupt matter would issue out, and that with more dangerous consequences. Fi. How great and glorious would this act of humanity render Charles all over the world? What nation would not readily submit to so generous and kind a prince?
Bu. You have acted the part of the emperor very well: now act the pope too. Fi. It would be too long to go through everything. ​I will tell you in brief. I would so demean myself that the whole world should see that there was a prince of the church that aspired after nothing but the glory of Christ and salvation of mankind. That would infallibly take away all invidiousness from the name of pope, and gain him solid and lasting glory. But, by the way, from worse to better. We have digressed from our first proposition. Bu. Well, I will bring you to rights again by and by. But do you say, then, that the pope’s laws are binding to the whole church? Fi. I do say so. Bu. What! to the punishment of hell? Fi. They say so. Bu. And are the bishops’ laws obligatory in like manner? Fi. I think they are, every one in his own diocese. Bu. And those of abbots too? Fi. I am in doubt as to that; for they receive their administration upon certain conditions, nor have any power to burden their inferiors with constitutions without the concurrence of the whole order. Bu. But what if a bishop receive his function upon the same conditions? Fi. I doubt as to that.
Bu. Can the pope annul what a bishop has constituted? Fi. I believe he can. Bu. Can nobody annul what the pope decrees? Fi. No, nobody. Bu. How comes it about that we hear of the resuming of popes’ constitutions under this title, that they have not been rightly instructed, and that the constitutions of former popes have been antiquated by later, as deviating from piety? Fi. Those were surreptitious and temporary things; for the pope, considered as a man, may be ignorant of person and fact. But that which proceeds from the authority of an universal council is a heavenly oracle, and is of equal authority with the gospel itself, or at least very near it. Bu. Is it lawful to doubt concerning the gospels? Fi. By no means; no, nor the councils neither, rightly assembled by the Holy Spirit, carried on, published, and received. Bu. What if any one should doubt whether there is any council so constituted? as I hear concerning the council at Basil, which has been rejected by some; nor do all approve of that of Constance. I speak of those that are accounted orthodox, not to mention the late Lateran council. Fi. Let them that will doubt at their own peril. I will not doubt for my part.
Bu. Had Peter, then, the authority of making new laws? Fi. He had. Bu. And had Paul too, and the rest of the apostles? Fi. Yes, they had every one in their own churches committed to them by Peter or Christ. Bu. And have the successors of Peter a like authority with Peter himself? Fi. Why not? Bu. And is there the same regard to be had to the pope of Rome’s letter as to the Epistle of St. Peter himself, and as much to the constitutions of bishops as to the Epistles of St. Paul? Fi. Nay, I think, and more too, if they command and make it a law by authority. Bu. Is it lawful to doubt whether Peter and Paul wrote by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit? Fi. Nay, let him be accounted an heretic that doubts of that. Bu. And do you think the same of the ordinances and constitutions of the popes and bishops? Fi. I do as to the popes, but I should make some question as to the bishops, but that it seems a part of piety not to be suspicious of any person unless there be very good grounds for it. Bu. But why will the Holy Spirit suffer a bishop to err rather than a pope? Fi. Because that error is the most dangerous that proceeds from the head. Bu. If the constitutions of prelates are of such ​force, what does the Lord mean in Deuteronomy, who uses so severe a commination, that none add to or diminish from the law? Fi. He does not add to the law that more largely explains what lay couched in it, and who suggests those things that have relation to the observation of the law; nor does he diminish who preaches the law according to the capacity of the hearers, declaring some things, and concealing others, according to the circumstances of the time.
Bu. Were the constitutions of the Pharisees and Scribes obligatory? Fi. I do not think they were. Bu. Why so? Fi. Because, though they had authority to teach, yet not to make laws. Bu. Which power is the greater, that of making human laws or that of interpreting divine? Fi. That of making human laws. Bu. I am of another mind; for he that has the right of interpreting his opinion has the force of a divine law. Fi. I do not well take you in. Bu. I will explain it to you. The divine law commands us to assist our parents. The Pharisee interprets it thus: That which is offered to the church is given to the Father, because God is the father of all. Does not the divine law then give place to this interpretation? Fi. But that is a false interpretation. Bu. But when once they have received an authority of interpreting, how can I tell which interpretation is true, and especially if they differ among themselves? Fi. If you cannot be satisfied as to the sense of the commonalty, follow the authority of the prelates; that is the safest.
Bu. Is then the authority of the Scribes and Pharisees devolved upon divines and preachers? Fi. It is. Bu. I hear none more ready to inculcate, “hear, I say unto you,” than those that never made divinity much their study. Fi. You must hear all candidly, but with judgment, unless they are quite mad. Then people ought to rise and hiss them out of the pulpit, to make them sensible of their madness. But you ought to believe those that have arrived to the degree of a doctor in divinity. Bu. But among them I find a great many that are much more ignorant and foolish than those that are altogether illiterate; and I see much controversy among the learned themselves. Fi. Single out the best things, and leave those things that are difficult to others, always receiving those things that the consent of the rulers and majority has approved. Bu. I know that is the safest way. But then there are false constitutions as well as false interpretations. Fi. Whether there be or no, let others look to that. I believe there may be.
Bu. Had Annas and Caiaphas authority to make laws? Fi. Yes, they had? Bu. Did these men’s constitutions in all things oblige to the punishment of hell? Fi. I cannot tell. Bu. Suppose Annas had made an order that nobody coming from a market should touch a bit of meat before he had washed his body: if any one ate meat unwashed, did he incur the pain of damnation? Fi. I think not, unless the contempt of the public authority aggravated the crime. Bu. Did all the laws of God oblige to the punishment of eternal damnation? Fi. I believe not; for God forbids all sin, how venial soever, if we may believe divines. Bu. But perhaps a venial sin might send to hell, unless God by His mercy assisted our infirmity. Fi. It is no absurdity to say so, but I dare not affirm it. Bu. When the Israelites were in captivity in Babylon, besides a great many other ​things which the law requires, many of them omitted circumcision; did all these perish? Fi. God knows that.
Bu. If a Jew should privately, for fear of being starved, eat swine's flesh, would he be guilty of a crime? Fi. In my opinion, the necessity would excuse the fact; inasmuch as David was excused by the mouth of God himself, that he had ate holy bread, which is called shewbread. contrary to the precept of the law; and did not only eat it himself, but also fed his profane companions with it too. Bu. If any one lay under that necessity that he must either steal or starve, which ought he to choose, to steal or be starved to death? Fi. Perhaps, in that case, theft would not be theft. Bu. How is that? What, is not an egg an egg? Fi. Especially, if he took it with an intention of making a return, and pacifying the owner, as soon as he should be in a capacity to do it. Bu. What if a man must either lose his own life or swear falsely against his neighbour, which must he choose? Fi. Death. Bu. What if he could save his life by committing adultery? Fi. He ought rather to choose death. Bu. What if he could save his life by committing fornication? Fi. They say he ought rather to die. Bu. Why does not an egg cease to be an egg here, especially if there be no force offered or injury done? Fi. There is wrong done to the maiden's body. Bu. What if by perjury? Fi. He ought to die. Bu. What say you as to a simple harmless lie? Fi. They say a man must rather die. But I am of opinion that upon an urgent necessity, or a great advantage, such a sort of a lie rather is no fault, or a very small one; unless it be that having once opened the way, there is danger of our growing into a habit of lying injuriously. Put the case that by a harmless lie a man might save the bodies and souls of his whole country; which would a pious man choose? would he refuse to tell the lie? Bu. What others would do I cannot tell, but as for me, I would make no scruple of telling fifteen as notorious lies as ever Homer told in his life, and presently wash away my guilt with holy water. Fi. I would do the same.
Bu. Well, then, it is not what God has commanded nor what He has forbid that obliges to eternal damnation. Fi. It seems otherwise. Bu. Then the modus of the obligation is not so much from the author of the law as from the matter of it; for some things give way to necessity, and some do not. Fi. It seems so. Bu. What if a priest should be in danger of his life, and should save it by marrying? Whether should he choose? Fi. Death. Bu. When a divine law can give way to necessity, why does not this human law give way to it? Fi. It is not the law that hinders but the vow. Bu. What if any one should make a vow of going to Jerusalem but could not do it without being sure to lose his life, shall he go or shall he die? Fi. Why, he ought to die, unless he can get his vow dispensed with by the pope. Bu. But why may one vow be dispensed with and not another? Fi. Because one is a solemn vow and the other a private one. Bu. What do you mean by a solemn one? Fi. That which is usual. Bu. Why then, is not the other a solemn one which is a daily one? Fi. Yes, but then it is a private one.
Bu. Well, then, if a monk should profess privately before an abbot, would not this be a solemn one? Fi. You trifle. A private vow is the easier discharged, because it is dispensed with the least offence. He ​that makes a private vow does it with this intention, that if it be convenient he may alter his mind. Bu. Then might they vow with this intention that vow perpetual chastity. Fi. They ought so to do. Bu. Then it would be perpetual and not perpetual. What if it were the case of a Carthusian monk that be must either eat meat or die? Whether ought he to choose? Fi. Physicians tell us that there is no flesh so efficacious but aurum potabile, and jewels would answer the end. Bu. Which is the more useful, to succour a person in danger of life with gold and jewels, or with the price of them to succour a great many whose lives are in danger, and to let the sick man have a chicken. Fi. I cannot say as to that. Bu. But the eating of fish or flesh is not of the number of those things that are called substantials. Fi. Let us leave the Carthusians to be their own judge.
Bu. Let us then talk in the general. Sabbath-keeping has been diligently, frequently, and largely inculcated in the law of Moses. Fi. True. Bu. Whether then ought I to relieve a city in danger, neglect ing the sabbath or not? Fi. Do you think me a Jew then? Bu. I wish you were, and a circumcised one too. Fi. The Lord himself had solved that difficulty, saying, the sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath. Bu. Well, then, is that law of force in all human constitutions. Fi. Yes, except anything obstruct. Bu. What if a lawmaker make a law, not with this design, that it should be obligatory upon the pain of eternal damnation, nor indeed unto any guilt, and to have no other force but an exhortation? Fi. Good man, is it not in the lawmaker’s power how far the law shall be binding? He uses his authority in making the law, but as to what it shall oblige to, and what not, that is in the hand of God.
Bu. Why, then, do we hear our parish priests out of the pulpit crying, “To-morrow you must fast, under pain of eternal damnation,” if it does not appear to us how far a human law is binding? Fi. They do this that they may in an especial manner strike terror into the contumacious, for I presume those words do properly belong to them. Bu. Whether they are a terror to the contumacious I know not: they throw weak persons into scruples and danger. Fi. It is a hard matter to suit both. Bu. The power of the law and custom are much the same. Fi. Sometimes custom is the more powerful. Bu. They that introduce a custom, whether they do it with design of bringing any one into a snare or not, they oftentimes bring them into an obligation nolens volens. Fi. I am of your mind. Bu. Custom may lay a burden upon a man when it cannot take it off again. Fi. It may so. Bu. Well, then, now I hope you are sensible how dangerous a thing it is to impose new laws upon men without any necessity or a very great utility. Fi. I confess it.
Bu. When the Lord says, “Swear not at all,” does He render every one that swears obnoxious to the pains of hell? Fi. I think not. I take it to be a counsel and not a command. Bu. But how can that be made clear to my understanding, when He has scarce forbid anything with greater strictness and severity than that we swear not? Fi. You must learn of your teachers. Bu. When Paul gives advice, does he oblige to the pain of damnation? Fi. By no means. Bu. Why so? Fi. Because he will not cast a stumblingblock before the weak. Bu. So then it is in the breast of the maker of the law to lay liable to damnation or ​not. And it is a sacred thing to beware lest we lay a stumbling block before the weak by any constitutions. Fi. It is. Bu. And if Paul made use of this caution, much more ought priests to use it, of whom it is uncertain whether they have the Spirit or not. Fi. I confess so.
Bu. But a little while ago you denied that it was at the lawgiver’s pleasure how far the law should oblige a person. Fi. But here it is a counsel and not a law. Bu. Nothing is easier than to change the word “swear not.” Is it a command?Fi. It is. Bu. Resist not evil. Fi. It is a counsel. Bu. But this last carries in it the face of a command more than the former; at least, is it in the breasts of bishops whether they will have their constitutions, commands, or counsels? Fi. It is. Bu. You denied that strenuously but now. For he who will not have his constitution render any one guilty of a crime he makes it advice, and not command. Pi. True; but it is not expedient the vulgar should know this, lest they should presently cry out that what they have not a mind to observe is counsel. Bu. But then what will you do as to those weak consciences that are so miserably perplexed by thy silence? But come on, pray tell me can learned men know by any certain tokens whether a constitution has the force of a counsel or a command? Fi. As I have heard, they can, Bu. May not a person know the mystery?? Fi. You may, if you will not blab it out. Bu. Pshaw, I will be as mute as a fish. Fi. When you hear nothing but, “We exhort, we ordain, we command,” it is a counsel; when you hear, “We command, we require,” especially if threatenings of excommunication be added, it is a command.
Bu. Suppose I owe money to my baker and cannot pay him, and had rather run away than be cast into prison, am I guilty of a capital offence? Fi. I think not, unless a will be wanting as well as ability. Bu. Why am I excommunicated then? Fi. That thunderbolt affrights the wicked, but does not hurt the innocent; for, you know, amongst the ancient Romans there were certain dreadful threatening laws made for this very purpose, as that which is fetched from the twelve tables, concerning the cutting the body of the debtor asunder, of which there is no example extant, because it was not made for use but terror. And now as lightning has no effect upon wax or flax, but upon brass, so such excommunications do not operate upon persons in misery, but upon the contumacious. Bu. To speak ingenuously, to make use of Christ’s thunderbolt on such frivolous occasions as these are seems in a manner to be, as the ancients said, in lente unguentum.
Bu. Has a master of a house the same power in his own house as a bishop has in his diocese? Fi. It is my opinion he has propor tionably. Bu. And do his prescriptions equally oblige? Fi. Why not? Bu. I command that nobody eat onions, how is he that does not obey a sinner before God? Fi. Let him see to that. Bu. Then for the future I will say I admonish you, not I command you. Fi. That will be wisely done. Bu. But suppose I see my neighbour in danger, and therefore I take him aside and admonish him privately to withdraw himself from the society of drunkards and game sters, but he, slighting my admonition, lives more profligately than before, does my admonition lay him under an obligation? Fi. In my ​opinion it does. Bu. Then neither by counsel nor exhortation do we avoid the snare. Fi. Nay, it is not admonition, but the argument of admonition that brings into the snare. For if I admonish my brother to make use of slippers, and he does not do it, he is not guilty of a crime.
Bu. I will not put the question at this time how far the prescriptions of physicians are obligatory. Does a vow lay liable to the pain of eternal damnation? Fi. Yes. Eu. What, all kind of vows? Fi. Ay, all universally, if they be possible, lawful, and voluntary. Bu. What do you mean by voluntary? Fi. That which is extorted by no necessity. Bu. What is necessity? Fi. Fear falling upon a man of constancy. Bu. What, upon a Stoic, such a one as Horace says, If the world fall to pieces about his ears he would not be afraid? Fi. Shew me such a Stoic, and then I will give you an answer. Bu. But, without jesting, can the fear of famine or infamy fall upon a man of constancy? Fi. Why not?
Bu. Suppose a daughter that is not at her own disposal should marry privately, without the consent of her parents, who would give their consent if they knew it, will the vow be lawful? Fi. It will. I cannot tell whether it be or no; but this I am sure of, if there be any such this is one of the number of those which, although they be true, yet lest they be a scandal to the weak, are to be kept secret. Bu. Again, suppose a virgin who, by her parents’ consent, has engaged herself in marriage to her lover should enter herself in the cloister of St. Clare, will this vow be allowable and lawful? Fi. Yes, if it be a solemn one. Bu. Can that be solemn that is done in a field and a dark monastery? Fi. It is accounted so. Bu. Suppose the same person at home, a few witnesses being present, should make a vow of perpetual virginity, will it not be a lawful vow? Fi. No. Bu. Why so? Fi. Because a more holy vow is in the way. Bu. If the same maid sell a field, will the contract be good? Fi. I think not.
Bu. And will it be valid if she give herself into the power of another?
Fi. If she devote herself to God.
Bu. And does not a private vow devote a person to God? and does not he that receives the holy sacrament of matrimony devote himself to God? and can they whom God has joined together devote themselves to the devil, when only of married persons God has said, Whom God has joined, let no man put asunder? And besides this, when a young man not come of age and a simple maid, by the threats of parents, severity of tutors, the wicked instigation of monks, fair promises, and terrifyings, are thrust into a nunnery, is the vow a free vow? Fi. Yes, if they are at years of discretion. Bu. A virgin of that age is emphatically doli capax, being easy to be imposed upon. What if I should purpose in my mind to drink no wine on a Friday, would my purpose bind me as strongly as a vow? Fi. I do not think it would. Bu. What difference is there then between a determinate purpose and a vow conceived in the mind? Fi. The mind of binding. Bu. You denied but just now that the mind signified anything in this matter. Do I purpose if I am able, and vow whether I am able or not? Fi. You have it. Bu. Have it? I have clouds painted upon the wall that is just nothing at all. What, then, is the ratio of the matter to be disregarded in a purpose? Fi. I think so. ​Bu. And must we take care of that on account of the law, and this on account of the vow? Fi. Yes.
Bu. Suppose the pope should make a law that nobody should marry any one within the seventh degree of affinity, would he be guilty of a sin that should marry a cousin in the sixth degree? Fi. In my opinion he would. Bu. What if a bishop should put forth an edict that nobody should have to do with his wife but on a Monday, Thursday, and Saturday, would he be guilty of a sin that should have to do with her upon other days? Fi. I think he would. Bu. What if he should enjoin that nobody should eat bulbous roots? Fi. What does that signify to piety? Bu. Because bulbous roots are provocatives, but what I say of bulbs, I say even of the herb rocket. Fi. I cannot well tell. Bu. Why cannot you tell where lies the force of obligation in human laws? Fi. In the words of St. Paul, Be obedient to those that are set over you. Bu. Upon this foot the constitution of a bishop and magistrate binds all persons. Fi. Yes, if it be just and lawfully made. Bu. But who shall be judge of that? Fi. He that made it; for he that makes the law ought to interpret it.
Bu. What, then, must we be obedient to all constitutions without distinction? Fi. I think we should. Bu. What if a fool or a wicked person be set over us, and he make a foolish and wicked law, must we abide by his judgment, and must the people obey, as having no right to judge? Fi. What signifies it to suppose what is not? Bu. He that succours his father, and would not succour him unless the law obliged him to it, does he fulfil the law or not? Fi. No, I think he does not. Bu. Why not? Fi. In the first place, because he does not fulfil the will of the lawgiver; secondly, he adds hypocrisy to his wicked will. Bu. If he fasts that would not fast unless the church required him, does he satisfy the law? Fi. You change both the author of the law and the matter of it. Bu. Well, then, compare a Jew, if he fasting upon days appointed would not fast unless the law required him, with Christ, who, keeping a fast appointed by men, would not keep it if there were no law for it; or, if you had rather, a Jew abstaining from swine's flesh, and a Christian abstaining from flesh and milk-meats on Friday. Fi. I believe there ought to be some grains of allowance made to infirmity, though the law be against it; but not so to him that on purpose acts and murmurs against a law.
Bu. But you do allow that the divine laws do not always oblige to eternal damnation. Fi. Why should I not? Bu. But do you not dare to own that there is any human law which does not bind to the same penalty, but leave a man in suspense? Then you seem to attribute something more to the laws of men than to the laws of God. Lying and backbiting are evil in their own nature, and forbidden by God himself, and yet you acknowledge that some kind of lies and backbitings do not bind a person to the punishment of hell; and yet you do not dare to exempt a person from the same punishment that upon any condition whatsoever eats flesh on a Friday. Fi. It is none of my business to acquit or condemn any one.
Bu. If divine and human laws bind equally alike, what difference is there between one and the other? Fi. This difference, that he that transgresses a human law sins immediately against man (if you will allow me to use school terms), but mediately against God; he that ​transgresses a divine law, e contra. Bu. Where is the difference in mingling vinegar and wormwood, which is put in first, if I must drink them both? Or what matter is it whether a stone that has given me a wound rebounds from me to a friend directly or sideways? Fi. I have learned that. Bu, And if the modus of a law’s binding, in laws of both kinds, is to be taken from the matter and circumstances, what difference is there between the authority of God and that of man? Fi. Indeed, a very wicked question. Bu. There are, for all that, a great many that do not think there is much difference. God gave a law by Moses, and it is not lawful to violate it; and He also gives laws by a pope or a council what difference is there between the one and the other? Moses’s law was given by God, and our laws were given by men, and it should seem that those laws which God gave by one Moses should be of less moment than those which the Holy Spirit gives by a full council of bishops and learned men. Fi. It is unlawful to doubt concerning the spirit of Moses.
Bu. Paul comes in the place of a bishop; what difference is there, then, betwixt the precepts of Paul and of any other bishop? Fi. Because, without controversy, Paul wrote by the inspiration of the Spirit. Bu. How far extends this authority of writers? Fi. I think no farther than the apostles themselves, unless that the authority of councils ought to be looked upon inviolable. Bu. Why may we not doubt of Paul’s spirit? Fi. Because the consent of the church is against it. Bu. May we doubt concerning that of bishops? Fi. We ought not rashly to be suspicious of those, unless the matter manifestly savours of gain or impiety. Bu. But what think you of the councils? Fi. We ought not to doubt of them, if they are rightly constituted and managed by the Holy Spirit. Bu. Is there, then, any council that is not so? Fi. It is possible there may be such, otherwise divines would never have made this exception. Bu. Then it seems that it is lawful to doubt concerning councils themselves. Fi. I do not think we may, if they be received and approved by the judgment and consent of Christian nations.
Bu. But since we have exceeded the bound that God has set, and within which He would have the sacred and inviolable authority of the scripture circumscribed, it seems to me that there is some other difference between laws divine and human. Fi. What is that? Bu. Divine laws are immutable, unless such as are of that kind that they seem to be given only for a time, for the sake of signification and coercion, which the prophets foretold should end as to the carnal sense of them, and the apostles have taught us are to be omitted. And then, again, as to human laws: there are sometimes unjust, foolish, and hurtful laws made, and therefore either abrogated by the authority of superiors or by the universal neglect of the people; but there is nothing such in the divine laws.
Again, a human law ceases of itself when the causes for which it was made cease; as, for instance, suppose a constitution should enjoin all persons yearly to contribute something towards building a church, the requirement of the law ceases when the church is built. Add to this, that a human law is no law, unless it be approved by the consent of those who are to use it. A divine law cannot be dispensed with nor abrogated, although, indeed, Moses being about to make a law required ​the Consent of the People; but this was not done because it was necessary, but that he might render them the more criminal in not keeping it. For, indeed, it is an impudent Thing to break a Law that you gave your Approbation to the making of.
And in the last Place, inasmuch as human Laws commonly concern corporal Matters, and are School-Masters to Piety, they seem to cease, when a Person has arrived to that Strength in Grace, that he does not stand in Need of any such Restraints, but only should endeavour to avoid giving an Offence to weak Persons, who are conscientiously scrupulous. As for Instance, suppose a Father enjoins a Daughter that is under Age, not to drink Wine, that she may with the greater Safety preserve her Virginity till she is married; when she comes of Age, and is delivered up to a Husband, she is not bound to her Father’s Injunction. There are many Laws that are like Medicaments, that are alter’d and give Place according to the Circumstances, and that with the Approbation of the Physicians themselves, who, if they should at all Times make Use of the Remedies the Antients prescribed, would kill more than they cure. Fi. You indeed heap a great many Things together, some of which I like, and others I do not, and some I don’t understand.
Bu. If a Bishop’s Law manifestly savours of Gain, that is, if he makes an Order, that every Parish-Priest every Year purchase, at a Guinea apiece, a Right of Absolution in those Cases that are called Episcopals, that he might extort the more Money from those in his Jurisdiction; do you think it ought to be obey’d? Fi. Yes, I think it ought; but at the same Time we ought to exclaim against this unjust Law, but always avoiding Sedition. But how comes it about that you turn Catechiser at this Rate, Butcher? Every one should keep to his own Trade.
Bu. We are often perplexed with these Questions at Table, and sometimes the Contest proceeds to Blows and Bloodshed.
Fi. Well, let them fight that love fighting; I think we ought with Reverence to receive the Laws of our Superiors, and religiously observe them, as coming from God; nor is it either safe or religious either to conceive in Mind, or sow among others any sinister Suspicion concerning them. And if there be any Tyranny in them, that does not compel us to Impiety, it is better to bear it, than seditiously to resist it.
Bu. I confess this is a very good Way to maintain the Authority of Persons in Power; I am pretty much of your Mind, and as for them, I do not envy them. But I should be glad to hear any Thing wherein the Liberty and Advantage of the People is aimed at. Fi. God will not be wanting to his People. Bu. But where all this While is that Liberty of the Spirit that the Apostles promise by the Gospel, and which Paul so often inculcates, saying, The Kingdom of God consists not in Meat and Drink; and that we are not Children under a School-Master; and that we do no longer serve the Elements of this World; and Abundance of other Expressions: if Christians are tied to the Observance of so many more Ceremonies than the Jews were; and if the Laws of Man bind more closely than a great many Commands of God? Fi. Well, Butcher, I’ll tell you, the Liberty of Christians does not consist in its being lawful for ’em to do what they will, being set free from human Ordinances, but in that they do those Things that are enjoined them with a Fervour of Spirit and Readiness of Mind, willingly and chearfully, and so are Sons rather than Servants. ​Bu. Very cleverly answer’d indeed! But there were Sons under the Mosaic Law, and there are now Servants under the Gospel; and I am afraid the greatest Part of Mankind are so, if they are Servants who do their Duty by Compulsion. What Difference is there then between the new Dispensation and the old? Fi. A great Deal in my Opinion: Because the old taught under a Veil, and the new is laid open to View; that which the old foretold by Parables and Riddles, the new explains clearly; what that promised darkly, this exhibits for the most Part manifestly: that was given to one Nation singly, this equally teaches all the Way of Salvation; that imparted that notable and spiritual Grace to a few Prophets and famous Men, but this largely sheds abroad every Kind of Gifts, as Tongues, healing Diseases, Prophecies and Miracles, into Persons of all Ages, Sexes, and Nations whatsoever. Bu. Where are those Gifts now? Fi. They are ceased, but not lost, either because there is no Need of them, now the Doctrine of Christ is spread abroad, or else because many are only Christians in Name, and we want Faith, which is the Worker of Miracles.
Bu. If Miracles are necessary on Account of Unbelievers, I’m sure the World is full of them now. Fi. This is an Unbelief simply erring, such as that of the Jews murmuring against Peter, because he had received Cornelius’s Family into the Grace of the Gospel; and such as was that of the Gentiles, who thought the Religion they had received from their Ancestors was sufficient to Salvation; and the Apostles Doctrine to be a strange Superstition: These were converted by seeing Miracles. But now those that believe not the Gospel when it shines so gloriously thro’ the whole World, do not err simply, but being blinded by their evil Affections, will not understand that they may do what is good; such as these no Miracles would reduce to a better Mind. And now is the Time of healing, but the Time of punishing will come.
Bu. Indeed you have said many Things that have a Probability in them: however, I am resolved not to depend upon the Judgment of a Salt-Fishmonger; but I will go to some Divine, eminent for Learning, and what he says concerning all these Things, I’ll believe. Fi. Who? Pharetrius? Bu. He dotes before he is old, and is fit to preach to none but doting old Women. Fi. Well then, what? Bliteus? Bu. Do you think I’ll give any Credit to a prating Sophister? Fi. Well then, Amphicholus? Bu. I’ll never trust him to answer Questions, that never answer’d my Demands for the Meat I trusted him. Can he resolve hard Questions, that was always insolvent as to his Debts? Fi. Who then? Lemantius? Bu. I shan’t chuse a blind Man to shew me the Way. Fi. Who then? Bu. If you have a Mind to know, it is Cephalus, a Man very well versed in three Languages, and accomplish’d with all good Literature, familiarly acquainted with the sacred Scriptures, and antient Fathers. Fi. I’ll advise you better: Go to the Elysian Shades, and there you’ll find Rabin Druin, he’ll cut all your knotty Questions in two with a Pair of Sheers. Bu. Do you go before and clear the Way.
Fi. But, setting aside Jesting, is that true you told me, of a Dispensation for Flesh-eating? Bu. No, I did but joke with you to teaze you. And if the Pope had ever so much Mind to do it, you Fishmongers would raise Mobs about it. And besides, the World is full of a Sort of Pharisees, ​of a Sort of Pharisees, who have no other Way of appearing religious but by such Superstitions, who would neither be deprived of their ostentatious Sanctity, nor suffer their Successors to have more Liberty than they had themselves. Nor, indeed, would it be for the Interest of Butchers, to have a free Toleration to eat every Thing; for then our Trade would be very uncertain, for now our Profit is more certain, and we run less Hazards, as well as have less Trouble. Fi. What you say is very true, and we should be in the same Condition. Bu. I am glad here is something found out at last, that a Fishmonger and Butcher can agree in. But to begin to talk seriously, as perhaps it would be convenient for Christians not to be ty’d up to so many Ceremonies, especially to such as make but very little to true Religion, not to say that make against it; so I have no Mind to vindicate those Persons, who reject and set light by all human Ordinances; nay, such as often do many Things, because they are forbid to do them. Yet I can’t but admire at the absurd Notions of Mankind in many Things. Fi. Nor can I help wondring at them neither.
Bu. We are for confounding Heaven and Earth together, if we do but suspect any Danger of lessening the Authority of Priests, as to their Impositions; and are all asleep when we are under imminent Danger of attributing so much to the Authority of Man, that the Authority of God suffers by it. So we avoid one Evil, and fall into another far more pernicious. That there is Honour due to Bishops no Body denies, especially if they act agreeably to what they talk. But it is a wicked Thing to transfer the Honour due to God alone, upon Men; and in doing too much Honour to Men, to do too little to God. God is to be honoured and reverenced in our Neighbour; but, however, we ought to take Care at the same Time that God, by this Means, be not robbed of his Honour. Fi. We see a great many Men lay so much Stress upon corporal Ceremonies, that relying upon them they neglect Matters of real Religion, arrogating that to their own Merits, which ought to be attributed to the divine Bounty; and there taking up their Station, where they should begin to ascend to greater Perfection, and reviling their Neighbour for those Things that in themselves are neither good nor bad.
Bu. And when in the same Matter there are two Things, one better than the other, we commonly chuse the worst of them. The Body, and those Things that belong to the Body, are every where made more Account of than those of the Mind. And it is accounted a great Crime to kill a Man, and indeed it is so; but to corrupt Mens Minds with poisonous Doctrine and pernicious Principles, is made a Jest on. If a Priest lets his Hair grow, or wears a Lay Habit, he is thrown into Prison and severely punished; but if he sits tippling in a Bawdy-House with Whores, games, or debauches other Mens Wives, and never takes a Bible in his Hand, he is still a Pillar of the Church. Not that I excuse the wearing a Lay Habit, but I accuse the Absurdity of Mens Notions. Fi. Nay, if he shall neglect to say his Prayers at stated Hours, he must be excommunicated; but if he be an Usurer, or guilty of Simony, he goes Scot-free.
Bu. If any Body sees a Carthusian in a Dress not of the Order, or eating Flesh, how does he curse him, tremble at the Sight, and fall into a Fright, lest the Earth should open and swallow up him for wearing, ​and himself for beholding it? But let the same Person see him drunk as a Lord, reviling his Neighbour with notorious Lyes, imposing upon his poor Neighbour with manifest Frauds, he is not at all shock’d at that. Fi. So if any one sees a Franciscan with a Girdle without Knots, or an Augustin girt with a Woollen one instead of a Leather one, or a Carmelite without one, or a Rhodian with one, or a Franciscan with whole Shoes on his Feet, or a Cruciferian with Half-Shoes on; will he not set the whole Town into an Uproar? Bu. There were lately in our Neighbourhood two Women, whom one would take for Persons of Prudence, and the one miscarried, and the other fell into a Fit on seeing a Canon, who was a President of the Nuns in a Cloister not far distant, appear out of Doors, without a Surplice under his Gown: But the same Women have frequently seen these Sort of Cattle junketting, singing and dancing, to say no more; and their Stomachs never so much as heav’d at it.
Fi. Perhaps some Allowance ought to be made for the Sex. But I suppose you know Polythrescus: He was dangerously ill, his Distemper was a Consumption: The Physicians for a long Time had persuaded him to eat Eggs and Milk-Meats, but to no Purpose: The Bishop exhorted him to do the like; but he being a Man of Learning, and a Batchelor in Divinity, seem’d to resolve rather to die, than to take the Advice of either of these Physicians. At last the Doctors, and his Friends together, contriv’d to put the Cheat upon him, making him a Potion of Eggs and Goats Milk, telling him it was Juice of Almonds. This he took very freely, and for several Days together mended upon it, till a certain Maid told him the Trick, upon which he fell to vomiting of it up again. But the very same Man that was so superstitious in relation to Milk, had so little Religion in him, that he forswore a Sum of Money that he owed me. Having gotten before an Opportunity to tear the Note of his Hand that he had given me, he forswore it, and I was obliged to sit down with the Loss. But he took not the Oath with so much Difficulty, but that he seem’d to wish he had such Complaints made against him every Day. What can be more perverse than such a Spirit? He sinned against the Mind of the Church, in not obeying the Priest and the Doctors: But he whose Stomach was so weak in relation to Milk, had a Conscience strong enough as to Perjury.
Bu. This Story brings to my Mind what I heard from a Dominican in a full Auditory, who upon Easter-Eve was setting out the Death of Christ, that he might temper the Melancholiness of his Subject, by the Pleasantness of the Story. A certain young Man had got a Nun with Child, and her great Belly discover’d her Fault: A Jury of Nuns were impannell’d, and the Lady Abbess sat Judge of the Court. Evidence was given against her; the Fact was too plain to admit of a Denial; she was obliged to plead the Unavoidableness of the Crime, and defended the Fact upon that Consideration; also transferring the Blame to another, having Recourse to the Status Qualitatis, or if you will rather have it so, the Status Translationis. I was overcome, says she, by one that was too strong for me. Says the Abbess, then you should have cry’d out. So I would, says the Prisoner, had it not been a Crime to make a Noise in the Dormitory. Whether this be a Fable or not, it must be confest, there are a great many foolisher Things than this done.
But now I will tell you what I have seen with my own Eyes. The ​man’s name, and place where he lives, shall be concealed. There was a cousin of mine, a Prior that was next in degree to the abbot of the Benedictine Order, but of that sort that don’t eat flesh, unless it were out of the place they call the great refectory; he was accounted a learned man, and he was desirous to be so accounted, about fifty Years of Age: it was his daily practice to drink freely, and live merrily; and once every twelve days to go to the hot-houses, to sweat out the diseases of his reins. Fi. Had he wherewithal to live at that rate? Bu. About six hundred florins a year. Fi. Such a poverty I myself would wish for. Bu. In short, with drinking and whoring he had brought himself into a Consumption. The Doctors had given him over; the Abbot order’d him to eat flesh, adding that terrible Sentence, Upon Pain of Disobedience; but he, tho’ at the Point of Death, could scarce be brought to taste Flesh, tho’ for many Years he had had no Aversion to Flesh.
Fi. A Prior and an Abbot well match’d! I guess who they are, for I remember I have heard the same Story from their own Mouths. Bu. Guess. Fi. Is not the Abbot a lusty fat Man, that has a stammering in his Speech; and the Prior a little Man, but straitbodied and long-visag’d? Bu. You have guess’d right.
Fi. Well, now I’ll make you Amends; I’ll tell you what I saw with my own Eyes but t’other Day; and what I was not only present at, but was in a Manner the chief Actor. There were two Nuns that went to pay a Visit to some of their Kinsfolks; and when they came to the Place, their Man-Servant had left behind him their Prayer-Book, which was according to the Custom of the Order and Place where they liv’d. Good God! What a vexatious Thing that was! They did not dare to go to Supper before they had said their Vespers, nor could they read in any Book but their own; and at the same Time all the Company was in great Haste to go to Supper: the Servant runs back, and late at Night brings the Book; and by that Time they had said their Prayers, and got to Supper, ’twas ten o’Clock at Night. Bu. That is not much to be found Fault with hitherto. Fi. You have heard but one Part of the Story yet. At Supper the Nuns begin to grow merry with Wine; they laugh’d, and jok’d, and kiss’d, and not over-modestly neither, till you could hardly hear what was said for the Noise they made; but no Body used more Freedom than those two Virgins that would not go to Supper before they had said their Prayers. After Supper there was dancing, singing of lascivious Songs, and such Doings I am asham’d to speak of; insomuch that I am much afraid that Night hardly pass’d very honestly; if it did, the wanton Plays, Nods and Kisses deceived me.
Bu. I do not blame the Nuns for this, so much as the Priests that look after them; but, come on, I’ll give you Story for Story, or rather a History that I myself was an Eye-Witness of. A little While since there were some Persons sent to Prison for baking Bread on a Sunday, tho’ at the same Time they wanted it. Indeed, I do not blame the Deed, but I do the Punishment. A little after, being Palm-Sunday, I had Occasion to go to the next Street, and being there about four o’Clock in the Afternoon, I saw a Sight, I can’t well tell whether I shall call it ridiculous or wretched: I scarce believe any Bacchanals ever had so much Lewdness in them; some were so drunk they reeled ​to and fro, like a ship tossed by the waves, being without a rudder; others were supporting one so drunk he could not go, and hardly able to stand themselves; others fell down, and could scarce get up again; some were crowned with leaves of oak. Fi. Vine-Leaves and Wands would have befitted them better. Bu. The senior of them, acting the part of Silenus, was carried like a pack upon mens shoulders, after the manner they carry a dead corps, with his feet foremost, but with his face downwards, lest he should be chok’d with his own vomit, vomiting plentifully down the heels of those that carried hindmost; and as to the bearers, there was not a sober man amongst ’em; they went along laughing, but after such a manner, that you might perceive they had lost their senses. In short, they were all mad; and in this pickle they made a cavalcade into the city in the day-time. Fi. How came they to be all so mad? Bu. You must know, in the next town, there was wine sold something cheaper than in the city, so a parcel of boon companions went thither, that they might attain the greater degree of madness for the lesser sum of money; but though, indeed, they did spend the less money, they got the more madness. If these men had but tasted an egg, they would have been hauled to prison as if they had committed paricide; when, besides their neglecting divine service, and evening prayers upon so sacred a day, so much intemperance was not only committed with impunity, but no body seem’d to be so much as displeas’d at it.
Fi. But that you may not wonder so much at that, in the midst of the cities, and in alehouses next to the churches, upon the most solemn holidays, there was drinking, singing, dancing, fighting, with such a noise and tumult, that divine service could not be performed, nor one word heard that the parson said. But if the same men had set a stitch in a shoe, or eat pork on a friday, they would have been severely handled; tho’ the lord’s day was instituted chiefly for this end, that they might be at leisure to attend to the doctrine of the gospel; and therefore it was forbid to mend shoes, that they might have leisure to trim their souls. But is not this a strange perverting of judgment? Bu. A prodigious one.
Fi. Whereas there are two things in the ordering a fast, the one abstinence from meat, and the other the choice of it; there is scarce any body ignorant, that the first is either a divine command, or very near it; but the other not only human, but also in a manner opposite to the apostles real doctrine; however we excuse it, nevertheless by a preposterous judgment in common, it is no crime to eat a supper, but to taste a bit of meat that is forbidden by man, but permitted by god, and also by the apostles, this is a capital crime. Fasts, tho’ it is not certain they were commanded by the apostles, yet they are recommended in their examples and epistles. But the forbidding the eating of meats, that god has made to be eaten with thanksgiving, if we were to defend that before st. Paul, as a judge, to what shifts should we be driven? And yet, almost all the world over, men eat plentifully, and no body is offended at it; but if a sick man taste a bit of a chicken, the whole christian religion is in danger. In england the common people have a supper every other day, in lent time, and no body wonders at it; but if a man, at death’s door in a fever, should sup a little chicken broth, it is accounted a crime worse than sacrilege. ​Among the same persons in Lent time, than which there is nothing of greater antiquity, nor more religiously observ’d among christians, as i have said before, they sup without any penalty; but if you shall attempt to do the same, after Lent is over, on a Friday, no body will bear it; if you ask the reason of it, they’ll tell you ’tis the custom of the country. They curse a man who does not observe the custom of the country, and yet they forgive themselves the neglect of the ancient custom of the universal church.
Fi. He is not to be approved, that without cause neglects the custom of the country wherein he lives.
Bu. No more do i blame them that divide Lent between God and their bellies; but i find fault with preposterous censuring in matters.
Fi. Tho’ the Lord’s day was instituted in an especial manner, that persons might meet together to hear the gospel preached; he that does not hear mass, is look’d upon as an abominable sinner; but he that neglects to hear a sermon, and plays at ball in the time, is innocent.
Bu. What a mighty crime is it accounted for any one to receive the sacrament, not having first wash’d his mouth! When, at the same time, they do not stick to take it with an unpurified mind, defiled with vile affections.
Fi. How many priests are there, that would die before they would participate the sacrament in a chalice and charger, that has not been consecrated by a bishop, or in their every-day clothes? But among them all that are thus nice, how many do we see that are not at all afraid to come to the Lord’s table, drunk with the last night’s debauch? How fearful are they, lest they should touch the wafer with that part of the hand that has not been dipp’d in consecrated oil? Why are they not as religious in taking care that an unhallow’d mind does not offend the Lord himself?
Bu. We won’t so much as touch a consecrated vessel, and think we have been guilty of a heinous offence, if we shall chance so to do; and yet in the mean time, how unconcern’d are we, while we violate the living temples of the holy spirit?
Fi. Human constitutions require that no bastard, lame, or one that hath but one eye, be admitted to any sacred function; how nice are we as to this point? But in the mean time, unlearned, gamesters, drunkards, soldiers, and murderers, are admitted every where. They tell us, that the diseases of the mind lie not open to our view: I don’t speak of those things that are hidden, but of such as are more plain to be seen than the deformity of the body.
Bu. There are bishops likewise, that have nothing, as to their function to value themselves upon, but some sordid accomplishments. The gift of preaching, which is the chief dignity of a bishop, this they make to give place to every sordid thing; which they would never do, unless they were possess’d with a preposterous judgment.
Fi. He that shall profane a holy-day instituted by a bishop, is hurried away to punishment: But some great men setting at nought the constitution of popes and councils, and all their thunderbolts, who hinder canonical elections, ravage the church-lands, not sparing alms-houses and hospitals, erected by the alms of pious persons for the succour of the old, sick, and needy, think themselves christians good enough, if they do but wreak their ill temper upon persons that offend in trivial matters.
Bu. But we had better let great men alone, and talk about salt-fish and flesh.
Fi. I agree with you: Let us return to fasts and fish. ​I have heard say that the Pope’s laws do by name except boys, old men, and sick and weak persons, such as work hard, women with child, sucking children, and very poor people. Bu. I have often heard the same. Fi. I have also heard a very great divine, I think his name is gerson, say further, if there be any other case of equal weight with those which the Pope’s laws except by name, the force of the precept gives way in like manner. For there are peculiar habits of body which render the want of some things more material than an evident disease; and there are distempers that do not appear that are more dangerous than those that do: Therefore he that is acquainted with his own constitution, has no need to consult a priest; even as infants do not, because their circumstances exempt them from the law. And therefore they that oblige boys, or very old men, or persons otherwise weak, to fast, or to eat fish, commit a double sin: First, against brotherly charity: And secondly, against the very intention of the pope, who would not involve them in a law, the observation of which would be pernicious to them.
Whatsoever Christ has ordered, he has ordained for the health of body and mind both; neither does any pope claim to himself such a power, as by any constitution of his, to bring any person into danger of life: As, suppose that any person by not eating in the evening, should not rest at night, and so for want of sleep be in danger of growing light-headed, he is a murderer, both against the sense of the church, and the will of God. Princes, as oft as it suits with their conveniency, publish an edict threatning with a capital punishment: How far their power extends I will not determine; but this I will venture to say, they would act more safely, if they did not inflict death for any other causes, than such as are express’d in the holy scriptures. In things blame-worthy, the Lord dehorts from going to the extremity of the limits, as in the case of perjury, forbidding to swear at all; in murder, forbidding to be angry; we by a human constitution force persons upon the extreme crime of homicide, which we call necessity. Nay, as oft as a probable cause appears, it is a duty of charity, of our own accord, to exhort our neighbour to those things that the weakness of his body requires: And if there be no apparent cause, yet it is the duty of christian charity kindly to suppose it may be done with a good intention, unless it carries along with it a manifest contempt of the church.
A profane magistrate very justly punishes those that eat contumaciously and seditiously; but what every one shall eat in his own house, is rather the business of a physician than a magistrate: Upon which account, if any person shall be so wicked as to cause any disorder; they are guilty of sedition, and not the person that consults his own health, and breaks no law, neither of God nor man. In this the authority of the pope is misapplied; ’tis absurd to pretend the authority of popes in this case, who are persons of so much humanity, that if they did but know a good reason for it, they would of their own accord invite them to those things that are for their health, and defend them by dispensations against the slanders of all persons. And besides, throughout italy, they permit flesh to be sold in certain markets, for the sake of the health of such persons as are not comprehended in that law. Besides, I have heard divines that have not been precise in their ​sermons, say, Do not be afraid at supper-time to eat a piece of bread, or drink a pint of wine or ale, to support the weakness of the body. If they take upon them the authority of indulging, so that they will indulge a small supper to those that are in health, and that contrary to the ordinance of the church, which requires fasting; may they not permit not only a small supper, but a pretty hearty one, to such persons whose weakness requires it, and the popes themselves expressly declare that they approve it? If any one treats his body with severity, it may be called zeal, for every one knows his own constitution best; but where is the piety and the charity of those persons that reduce a weak brother, wherein the spirit is willing, but the flesh weak, even to death’s door, or bringing him into a disease worse than death itself, against the law of nature, the law of God, and the sense and meaning of the law of the pope himself?
Bu. What you mention brings to my mind what I saw myself about two years since: I believe you know eros an old man, about sixty years of age, a man of a very weakly constitution, who by a lingering illness, acute diseases, and hard studies, even enough to kill a horse, was brought to death’s door. This man by some occult quality in nature, had, from a child, a great aversion to eating fish, and an inability to endure fasting, so that he never attempted them without imminent hazard of his life, at last obtain’d a dispensation from the pope to defend him against the malevoLent tongues of some pharisaical spirits. He not long ago, upon the invitation of friends, goes to the city eleutheropolis, a city not at all like its name: It was then Lent-time, and a day or two were devoted to the enjoyment of his friends, in the mean time fish was the common diet; but he, lest he gave offence to any person, tho’ he had his necessity to justify him, as well as the pope’s dispensation to bear him out, eat fish. He perceived his old distemper coming upon him, which was worse than death itself; so he prepares to take his leave of his friends, and go home; being necessitated so to do, unless he would lie sick there. Some there suspecting that he was in such haste to go, because he could not bear to eat fish, got glaucoplutus, a very learned man, and a chief magistrate in that province, to invite him to breakfast. Eros being quite tir’d with company, which he could not avoid in a publick inn, consented to go, but upon this condition, that he should make no provision, but a couple of eggs, which he would eat standing, and immediately take horse and be gone. He was promised it should be as he desir’d; but when he comes, there was a fowl provided: Eros taking it ill, tasted nothing but the eggs, and rising from table, took horse, some learned men bearing him company part of the way. But however it came about, the smell of the fowl got into the noses of some sycophants, and there was as great a noise in the city, as if ten men had been murdered; nor was the noise confin’d there, but was carried to other places two days journey off, and, as is usual, still gain’d by carrying; adding, that if eros had not got away, he had been carried before the justice, which tho’ that was false, yet true it was, that glaucoplutus was obliged to give the magistrate satisfaction. But now considering the circumstances of eros, had he eat flesh in public, who could justly have been offended at it? And yet in the same city all Lent-time, but especially on holidays, they drink till they are mad, ​bawl, dance, fight, play at dice at the church-door, so that you can’t hear what the parson says when he is preaching; and this is no offence. Fi. A wonderful perversity of judgment!
Bu. I’ll tell you another story not much unlike this: It is now almost two years since the same Eros went for the sake of his health to ferventia, and I out of civility bore him company. He went to an old friend’s house, who had given him frequent invitations by letters: He was a great man, and one of the pillars of the church. When they came to eating of fish, eros began to be in his old condition; a whole troop of distempers were coming upon him, a fever, severe head-ache, vomiting, and the stone. His landLord, tho’ he saw his friend in this danger, did not dare to give him a bit of flesh-meat; but why? He saw a great many reasons that he might do it; he saw likewise the pope’s licence: But he was afraid of publick censure; and the disease had grown so far upon him, that then it was in vain to give it him. Fi. What did Eros do? I know the man’s temper, he’d sooner die than be injurious to his friend. Bu. He shut himself up in a chamber, and lived three days after his own manner; his dinner was one egg, and his drink water and sugar boiled. As soon as his fever was abated he took horse, carrying provision along with him. Fi. What was it? Bu. Almond-milk in a bottle, and dried grapes in his portmanteau. When he came home, the stone seized him, and he lay by for a whole month. But for all this, after he was gone, there was a very hot, but a false report of eating flesh follow’d him, which reach’d as far as Paris; and a great many notorious lyes told about it. What remedy do you think proper for such offences?
Fi. I would have every body empty their chamber-pots upon their heads, and if they happen to meet them in the street, to stop their noses while they go by them, that they may be brought to a sense of their madness.
Bu. I think truly the divines ought to write sharply against such pharisaical impiety. But what is your opinion of his landlord? Fi. He seems to me a very prudent man, who knows from what frivolous causes the people excite such dismal tragedies. Bu. This may indeed be the effect of prudence, and we may interpret the good man’s timorousness as favourably as may be; but how many are there, who in the like case suffer their brother to die, and pretend a cautiousness to act against the usage of the church, and to the offence of the people; but have no fear upon them of acting to the offence of the people, in living a life publickly scandalous, in rioting, whoring, luxury, and idleness, in the highest contempt of religion, in rapine, simony, and cheating? Fi. There are too many such; that which they call piety, is nothing but a barbarous and impious cruelty. But yet methinks they seem to be more cruel, who do not leave a man in danger occasionally, but invent dangers for him, and force many into them as into a trap, into manifest danger of both body and soul, especially having no authority for it. Bu. I wait to hear what you have to say.
Fi. About thirty years ago I liv’d at Paris, in the college called Vinegar College. Bu. That’s a name of wisdom: But what say you? Did a salt-fishmonger dwell in that sour college? No wonder then, he is so acute a disputant in questions in divinity; for, as I hear, ​the very walls there teach divinity. Fi. You say very right; but as for me, I brought nothing out of it but my body full of gross humours, and my clothes full of lice. But to go on as I began: At that time one John Standoneus was president, a man whose temper you would not mislike, and whose qualifications you would covet; for as I remember, in his youth, when he was very poor himself, he was very charitable, and that is much to be commended; and if he had still supply’d the necessities of young persons, as he found them materials for going on with their studies, he would not have had so much money to have spent lavishly, but would have done praise-worthily: But what with lying hard, by bad and spare diet, late and hard studies, within one year’s space, of many young men of a good genius, and very hopeful, some he kill’d, others he blinded, others he made run distracted, and others he brought into the leprosy, some of whom I know very well; and in short, not one of them but what was in danger by him. Was not this cruelty against one’s neighbour? Neither did this content him, but adding a cloke and cowl, he took away the eating of flesh altogether, and transplanted such plants as those into far distant countries: So that if every one should give themselves such a liberty as he did himself, their followers would over-spread the whole face of the earth.
If monasteries had their rise from such beginnings as these, what danger are not only popes, but kings themselves in? It is a pious thing to glory in the conversion of a neighbour to piety; but to seek for glory in a dress or diet, is pharisaical. To supply the want of a neighbour, is a part of piety; to take care that the liberality of good men be not converted to luxury, is discipline; but to drive a brother into distempers, madness, and death, is cruelty, is murdering him. The intention of murder may, indeed, be wanting, but murder it is. Perhaps some will say, no body forces them into this kind of life; they come into it voluntary, they beg to be admitted, and they are at liberty to go away when they are weary of it; but this is a cruel answer. Is it to be thought, that young men can tell better what is good for them, than men of learning, experience, and age? A man might thus excuse himself to a wolf, that had drawn him into a trap, when he was almost famished with hunger. But can he that sets unwholesome and poisonous food before a man that is ready to gnaw his flesh for hunger, so excuse himself to him when he is perishing, by saying, no body forc’d you to eat it, you devour’d what was set before you willingly and eagerly? May he not justly answer him, you have not given me food, but poison? Necessity is very prevaLent, hunger is very sharp; therefore let them forbear to use these plausible excuses, that they were, indeed, at liberty to let it alone. But whosoever uses such engines, uses force.
Neither did this cruelty only destroy mean persons, but many gentlemens sons too, and spoiled many a hopeful genius. It is, indeed, the part of a father, to hold in youth that is apt to grow lascivious, by restraint. But in the very depth of winter, here’s a morsel of bread given them when they ask for their commons; and as for their drink, they must draw that out of a well that gives bad water, unwholesome of itself, if it were not made the worse by the coldness of the morning: I have known many that were brought to such an ill state of health ​that they have never got over it to this day. There were chambers on a ground-floor, and rotten plaister, they stood near a stinking house of office, in which none ever dwelt, but he either got his death, or some grievous distemper. I shall say nothing of the unmerciful whippings, even of innocent persons. This they say is to break their fierceness, for so they call a sprightly genius; and therefore, they thus cow their spirits, to make them more humble in the monasteries: Nor shall I take notice how many rotten eggs were eaten; nor how much sour wine was drank. Perhaps these things may be mended now; but however, ’tis too late for those that are dead already, or carry about an infected carcass.
Nor do I mention these things because I have any ill will to the college, but I thought it worth while to give this monition, lest human severity should mar inexperienc’d and tender age, under the pretence of religion. How much civility, or true piety, may be taught there at present, I don’t determine. If I could but see that those that put on a cowl, put off naughtiness, I should exhort every body to wear one. But besides, the spirit of a vigorous age is not to be cow’d for this sort of life; but the mind is to be form’d for piety. I can scarce enter into a carthusian monastery, but I find some fools and some madmen among them. But it is time now, after so long a digression, to return to our first proposition. Bu. We lose nothing by the digression, as long as we have talked to the purpose; but, perhaps, you have something further to add concerning human constitutions. Fi. In my mind, he does by no means observe a human constitution, who neglects to do what he aim’d at that ordain’d it. He that upon holy-days forbears working, and does not employ them in divine duties, profanes the day, by neglecting to do that for which end it was appointed; therefore is one good work forbidden that a better may be done. But now, as for those that leave their secular employ, to go to junketting, whoring, and drinking, fighting and gaming, they are guilty of a double profanation of it.
Bu. It is my opinion, that the task of saying prayers was imposed upon priests and monks for this purpose, that by this exercise they might accustom themselves to lift up their hearts to God: And yet he that neglects saying his prayers, is in danger to be punished; but he that only mumbles over the words with his mouth, and does not regard the meaning of ’em, nay, nor take pains so much as to learn the language they are written in, without which he can’t tell what the sound meaneth, is accounted a good man by others, and he thinks himself such. Fi. I know a great many priests that look upon it a heinous sin to omit any part of their prayers, or by mistake to have said concerning the virgin mary, when they should have said concerning st. Paul. But the same persons count it no crime to game, whore, and drink, tho’ these things are forbidden both by the law of God and man.
Bu. Nay, I myself have known a great many, that would sooner die than be persuaded to take the sacrament after they had chanc’d to taste a bit of food, or let a drop of water go down their throat while they were washing their mouths; yet the same persons will own, that they have so much malice against some, that, if they had an opportunity, they would kill them; nor are they afraid with this temper of mind ​to approach the Lord’s table. Fi. That they take the sacrament fasting, is a human ordinance; but that they lay aside wrath before they come to the Lord’s table, is a command of the Lord himself.
Bu. But then again, how preposterously do we judge concerning perjury! He is accounted an infamous person, who swears he has paid a debt, when it is proved he has not. But perjury is not charged upon a priest, who publickly lives unchastly, tho’ he publickly profess a life of chastity. Fi. Why don’t you tell this to the bishops vicars, who swear before the altar, that they have found all that they present to be entred into holy orders, to be fit persons in age, learning and manners; when for the most part there are scarce two or three that are tolerable, and most of them scarce fit to follow the plow? Bu. He is punished that being provoked, swears in a passion; but they that forswear themselves every three words they speak, escape scot-free. Fi. But they don’t swear from their hearts. Bu. By the same colourable pretence you may vindicate a man that kills another, saying, he did not do it in his heart. Perjury is not lawful either in jest or earnest; and it would make the crime the greater to kill a man in jest.
Fi. What if we should weigh the oaths princes take at their coronation in the same scale? Bu. These things, tho’ indeed they are very serious matters, being done customarily, are not accounted perjuries. There is the same complaint concerning vows. The vow of matrimony is without doubt of divine right; yet it is dissolved by entring into a monastick life of man’s invention. And tho’ there is no vow more religious than that of baptism, yet he that changes his habit, or his place, is sought after, apprehended, confin’d, and sometimes put to death for the honour of the order, as tho’ he had murder’d his father; but those whose lives are diametrically repugnant to their baptismal vows, in that they serve mammon, their bellies, and the pomps of this world, are in mighty esteem, are never charged with breaking their vow, nor upbraided, nor call’d apostates; but are reckon’d good christians.
Bu. The common people have the like esteem of good and bad deeds, and the safeguard of virtue: What a scandal is it for a maid to be overcome? But a lying, slanderous tongue, and a malicious, envious mind, are greater crimes; and where is it that a small theft is not punished more severely than adultery. No body will willingly keep him company that has been accused of theft; but it is accounted a piece of honour, to hold a familiarity with such as are drench’d in adultery. No body will deign to marry a daughter to a hangman who executes the law for a livelihood, and a judge does the same; but they have no aversion at all to the affinity of a soldier, who has run away from his parents, and listed himself a soldier for hire, and is defil’d with all the rapes, thefts, sacrileges, murders, and other crimes, that used to be committed in their marches, camps, and retreats; this may be taken for a son in law, and tho’ he be worse than any hangman, a maid may love him dearly, and account him a noble personage. He that steals a little money must be hang’d; but they that cheat the publick of their money, and impoverish thousands by monopolies, extortions, and tricking and cheating, are held in great esteem. Fi. They that poison one person, are hang’d for it; but they that poison a whole nation with infectious provisions go unpunished. ​Bu. I know some monks so superstitious, that they think themselves in the jaws of the devil, if by chance they are without their sacred vestments; but they are not at all afraid of his claws, while they are lying, slandering, drunkening, and acting maliciously. Fi. There are a great many such to be seen among private persons, that can’t think their house safe from evil spirits, unless they have holy water, holy leaves, and wax tapers; but they are not afraid of ’em because God is so often offended in them, and the devil served in them. Bu. How many are there, who put more trust in the safeguard of the virgin mary, or st. Christopher, than of christ himself? They worship the mother with images, candles, and songs; and offend christ heinously by their impious living. A mariner when in a storm is more ready to invoke the mother of Christ or St. Christopher, or some one or other of the saints, than Christ himself. And they think they have made the virgin their friend, by singing her in the evening the little song, salve regina, tho’ they don’t know what it is they do sing; when they have more reason to be afraid, that the virgin should think they jeer her by their so singing, when the whole day, and great part of the night is spent in obscene discourses, drunkenness, and such doings as are not fit to be mentioned.
Fi. Ay; and so a soldier, when he’s about any dangerous enterprise, is more ready to remember george, or barbara, than christ. And tho’ there is no reverence more acceptable to the saints, than the imitation of their deeds, by which they have approv’d themselves to christ, that is despis’d as much as can be; and we fancy that st. Anthony is mightily attach’d to us, if we keep some hogs consecrated to him, and have him painted upon doors and walls with his hog, his fire, and his bell; and never fear that which is more to be dreaded, lest he should look with an evil eye upon those houses, where those wickednesses reign, that the holy man always abhorred. Do we say over rosaries and salutations to the holy virgin? We should rather recount to her the humiliation of our pride, the repressing our lusts, the forgiving of injuries. The mother of christ takes more delight in such songs as these, and these are the offices that oblige them both.
Bu. A man that is sick is more ready to remember st. Rochus or dionysius, than Christ, the only health of mankind; and more than that, they that from the pulpit interpret the holy scriptures, which none, without the assistance of the spirit, can rightly understand, or profitably teach; they choose rather to invoke the aid of the Virgin Mary, than of Christ or his spirit. And he’s suspected for a heretick, that dares to mutter against this custom which they call laudable. But the custom of the antient fathers was much more laudable, such as origen, basil, chrysostom, cyprian, ambrose, jerom, and austin used, who often invoked christ’s spirit, but never implored the aid of the virgin: But they are not at all displeased at them, who have presumed to alter so holy a custom, taken from the doctrine of christ and the apostles, and the examples of holy fathers.
Fi. A great many monks are guilty of such like errors, who persuade themselves that st. Benedict is mightily attached to them, if they wear his cowl and cloke; tho’ I don’t believe he ever wore one so full of folds, and that cost so much money; and they are not afraid of his anger, in that they do not imitate him in his life at all.
Bu. He is a very good son of St. Francis, who does not disdain to ​wear an ash-coloured habit, and a canvas girdle; but compare their lives, and nothing can be more disagreeable: I speak of a great many, but not of all. And this may be carried thro’ all orders and professions. A preposterous confidence springs from an erroneous judgment, and from them both, preposterous scandals. Let but a franciscan go out of doors with a leather girdle, if he has chanc’d to lose his rope; or an augustine with a woollen one, or one that uses to wear a girdle without one; what an abomination would it be accounted? What danger is there, that if some women should see this, they would miscarry! And from such trifles as these, how is brotherly charity broke in upon! What bitter envyings, how viruLent slanderings! The Lord exclaims against these in the gospel, and so does paul vehemently, and so ought divines and preachers to do.
Fi. Indeed they ought to do so; but there are a great many among them, whose interest it is to have people, princes, and bishops, such as they are themselves. And there are others again, that have no more sense, as to these things, than the people themselves; or if they do know better, they dissemble it, consulting their own bellies, rather than the interest of jesus christ. And hence it comes to pass, that the people being every where corrupted with erroneous judgments, are secure where there is danger, and fearful where there is none; can sit down satisfied where they should proceed, and go forward when they should return. And if a man attempt to bring any one off from these erroneous principles, presently they cry out sedition; as tho’ it were sedition for any one, with better remedies, to endeavour to correct a vitious habit of body, which an ignorant pretender to physick has for a long time nourished, and almost brought it to be natural. But ’tis time to leave off these complaints, for there is no end of them. And if the people should hear what discourse we have, we are in danger to have a new proverb raised upon us, that a salt-fishmonger and a butcher trouble their heads about such things.
Bu. If they did, I would return this proverb upon them, sæpe etiam est olitor valde opportune loquutus. A little while ago I was talking of these things at the table, and, as ill luck would have it, there sat a ragged, lousy, stern, old, wither’d, white-liver’d fellow, he had scarce three hairs on his head, and whenever he open’d his mouth, he shut his eyes; they said he was a divine, and he call’d me a disciple of antichrist, and a great many such like things. Fi. What did you do then? Did you say nothing? Bu. I wish’d him a dram of sound judgment in his stinking brain, if he had any. Fi. I should be glad to hear the whole of that story. Bu. So you shall, if you will come and dine with me on thursday next; you shall have a veal-pye for dinner, so tender bak’d, that you may suck it thro’ a quill. Fi. I’ll promise you I will come; if you’ll come and dine with me on friday, i’ll convince you, that we fishmongers don’t live merely on stinking salt fish.