Erasmus: Querela Pacis

[II] Si me, licet immerentem, suo tamen commodo, sic aversarentur, eiicerent profligarentque mortales, meam modo iniuriam et illorum iniquitatem deplorarem: nunc cum me profligata, protinus fontem omnis humanae felicitatis ipsi a semet arceant, omniumque calamitatum pelagus sibi accersant, magis illorum mihi deflenda est infelicitas, quam mea iniuria: et quibus irasci tantum maluissem, horum dolere vicem, hos commiserari compellor. Nam utcumque amantem ab se propellere, inhumanum est: bene merentem aversari, ingratum: parentem ac servatricem omnium affligere, impium. Caeterum tot egregias commoditates quas mecum adfero, [II] sibimet ipsis invidere, proque his ultro tam tetram malorum omnium lernam accersere, an non hoc extremae cuiusdam dementiae videtur?

[2] If mortals, though I am undeserving, yet for their own advantage, were thus to turn away from me, to cast me out and to profligate me, I would lament only my own injury and their iniquity: now, since, with me laid low, they straightway shut off from themselves the fountain of all human felicity, and summon to themselves a sea of all calamities, their ill-fortune is more to be wept by me than my injury: and those at whom I would rather only have been angry, for these I am compelled to grieve in their stead, to commiserate them. For, in any case, to drive away from oneself one who loves is inhuman; to turn away one who has well deserved, ungrateful; to afflict the parent and preserver of all, impious. Moreover, to envy themselves so many outstanding advantages which I bring with me, [2] and, in exchange for these, of their own accord to summon so foul a Lerna of all evils—does not this seem to be a certain extremity of madness?

Sceleratis irasci par est, at sic Furiis actos, quid aliud quam deflere possumus? Qui non alio sane nomine magis deflendi sunt, quam quod ipsi sese non deflent, nec alio magis infelices, quam quod infelicitatem suam non sentiunt, quando nonnullus gradus est ad sanitatem, morbi sui magnitudinem agnoscere. Etenim si ego sum Pax illa, Divorum simul et hominum voce laudata, fons, parens, altrix, ampliatrix, tutatrix rerum bonarum omnium, quas vel coelum habet, vel terra, si sine me nihil usquam florens, nihil tutum, nihil purum aut sanctum, nihil aut iucundum hominibus, aut gratum Superis: si contra haec omnia, bellum semel omnium malorum, quidquid usquam est in rerum natura, Oceanus quidam est, si huius vitio subito marcescunt florentia, dilabuntur aucta, labascunt fulta, pereunt bene condita, amarescunt dulcia: denique si res est adeo non sancta, ut omnis pietatis ac religionis sit maxime praesentanea pestis, si nihil hoc uno infelicius hominibus, nihil invisius Superis, quaeso per Deum immortalem, quis credat istos homines esse, quis credat ullam sanae mentis micam inesse, qui me talem, tantis impendiis, tantis studiis, tanto molimine, [III] tot technis, tot curis, tot periculis student eiicere, tantumque malorum velint tam care emere?

It is fitting to be angry with the wicked; but with men thus driven by the Furies, what else can we do but bewail them?—men who on no other account more deserve to be bewailed than that they do not bewail themselves, nor on any other are they more unfortunate than that they do not sense their own infelicity, since some step toward sanity is to recognize the magnitude of one’s disease. For if I am that Peace, praised by the voice of gods and men alike, the fount, parent, nurse, enlarger, protectress of all good things which either heaven holds or earth; if without me nothing anywhere is flourishing, nothing safe, nothing pure or sacred, nothing either pleasant to men or grateful to the Supernal powers; if, on the contrary, war is, once for all, the Ocean of all evils whatsoever there is anywhere in the nature of things; if by its fault suddenly the flourishing wither, the increased slip away, what is propped begins to sink, the well-established perish, sweet things grow bitter; finally, if it is a matter so unholy that it is the most immediate pest of all piety and religion; if nothing is more unlucky for men, nothing more odious to the gods above—then, I pray by the immortal God, who would believe these are men, who would believe there is any spark of a sane mind in them, who with such expenses, such efforts, such exertion, [3] so many devices, so many cares, so many dangers strive to cast me out, and are willing to purchase so great a mass of evils at so dear a price?

Si me ad istum modum spernerent ferae, levius ferrem, et in me admissam contumeliam naturae imputarem, quae ingenium immite insevisset: si mutis pecudibus essem invisa, condonarem inscitiae, propterea quod his ea vis animi negata sit, quae sola dotes meas queat perspicere. At, o rem indignam ac plus quam prodigiosam, unum animal edidit natura, ratione praeditum, ac divinae mentis capax, unum benevolentiae concordiaeque genuit, et tamen apud quantumlibet efferas feras, apud quantumvis brutas pecudes, mihi citius locus sit quam apud homines.

If the wild beasts were to spurn me in that manner, I would bear it more lightly, and I would impute the affront committed against me to nature, which had sown a savage disposition; if I were hateful to mute cattle, I would pardon it to ignorance, for that force of mind has been denied to them which alone can discern my endowments. But—O thing unworthy and more than prodigious—nature has produced one animal endowed with reason and capable of a divine mind, it has begotten one for benevolence and concord, and yet among however savage beasts, among however brutish cattle, there is room for me sooner than among men.

Iam tot orbium coelestium, licet nec motus sit idem, nec vis eadem, tamen iis tot iam seculis constant vigentque foedera. Elementorum pugnantes inter se vires, aequabili libramine pacem aeternam tuentur, et in tanta discordia, consensu commercioque mutuo concordiam alunt. In animantium corporibus quam fidus membrorum inter ipsa consensus, quam parata defensio mutua?

Already for so many celestial orbs, though neither the motion nor the force is the same, yet covenants among them have stood firm and flourished through so many centuries. The warring forces of the elements, by an even balance, uphold eternal peace, and amid so great a discord, by mutual consent and commerce they foster concord. In the bodies of living creatures, how faithful is the agreement of the members among themselves, how ready the mutual defense?

Quid tam dissimile quam corpus et anima? Et tamen quam arcta necessitudine connexuerit haec duo natura, nimirum, declarat ipsa divulsio. Proinde ut vita nihil aliud est quam corporis et animae societas, [III] ita sanitas omnium corporis qualitatum concentus est.

What is so dissimilar as body and soul? And yet how tightly, by a close necessity, has nature conjoined these two—indeed, the very divulsion declares it. Accordingly, just as life is nothing other than the society of body and soul, [3] so health is the concert of all the qualities of the body.

Animantia rationis expertia in suo quaeque genere civiliter concorditerque degunt. Armentatim vivunt elephanti, gregatim pascuntur sues et oves, turmatim volant grues et graculi, habent sua comitia ciconiae, pietatis etiam magistrae, mutuis officiis sese tuentur delphini, nota est formicarum et apum inter ipsas concors politia. Sed quid de his loqui pergo, quae tametsi ratione vacant, sensu non vacant?

Animals devoid of reason live out their lives, each in its own kind, civilly and in concord. Elephants live in herds, swine and sheep graze in flocks, cranes and jackdaws fly in troops, storks, teachers even of pietas, have their own assemblies, dolphins protect themselves by mutual offices, and the concordant polity of ants and bees among themselves is well known. But why do I go on to speak of these, which, although they are void of reason, are not void of sense?

In arboribus, in herbis amicitiam possis agnoscere. Steriles sunt quaedam, nisi marem adiungas, vitis ulmum amplectitur, vitem amat persica. Usqueadeo quae nihil sentiunt, tamen pacis beneficium sentire videntur.

In trees, in herbs you can recognize amity. Certain ones are sterile, unless you join a male, the vine embraces the elm, the peach-tree loves the vine. To such an extent those things which sense nothing nevertheless seem to feel the benefit of peace.

Sed haec rursum ut sentiendi vim non habent, ita quod vitam habeant, iis quae sentiunt finitima sunt.

But these again, just as they do not have the force of sensing, so, in that they have life, are neighboring to those things that sense.

Quid aeque brutum atque saxorum genus? Dicas tamen his quoque pacis et concordiae sensum inesse. Ita Magnes ferrum ad sese trahit, attractum tenet.

What is as brutish as the kind of rocks? Yet you would say that even in these there is a sense of peace and concord. Thus the Magnet draws iron to itself, and holds it once attracted.

Quid quod inter immanissimas etiam feras conuenit? Leonum inter ipsos feritas non dimicat. Aper in aprum non vibrat dentem fulmineum, lynci cum lynce pax est, draco non saevit in draconem, luporum concordiam etiam proverbia nobilitarunt.

What of the fact that accord obtains even among the most monstrous wild beasts? The ferocity of lions does not fight among themselves. The boar does not brandish his lightning-like tooth against a boar; lynx with lynx there is peace; the dragon does not rage against the dragon; the concord of wolves even proverbs have made famous.

[I] Addam quod magis etiam mirum videatur, impii spiritus, per quos coelitum atque hominum concordia primum dirupta est, et hodie rumpitur, tamen inter se foedus habent, suamque illam qualemcumque Tyrannidem consensu tuentur: solos homines, quos omnium maxime decebat unanimitas, quibusque cum primis opus est ea, neque natura tam aliis in rebus potens et efficax concilie, nec institutio coniungit, nec tot ex consensu profecturae commoditates conglutinant, nec tantorum denique malorum sensus et experientia in mutuum amorem redigit. Figura communis omnium, vox eadem, et cum caetera animantium genera corporum formis potissimum inter se differant, uni homini indita vis rationis, quae ita sit illis inter ipsos communis, ut cum nullo sit reliquorum animantium communis. Uni huic animanti sermo datus, praecipuus necessitudinum conciliator: Insita sunt communiter disciplinarum ac virtutum semina, ingenium mite placidumque, et ad mutuam benevolentiam propensum, ut per se iuvet amari, et iucundum sit de aliis vel gratis bene mereri, nisi quis pravis cupiditatibus, ceu Circes pharmacis, corruptus, ex homine degenerarit in belluam.

[1] I will add what may seem even more wondrous: the impious spirits, through whom the concord of the heaven-dwellers and of men was first torn asunder, and today is being broken, nevertheless have a compact among themselves, and they uphold that their Tyranny, of whatever sort it be, by consensus: only men, whom unanimity most of all befitted, and for whom above all there is need of it, neither does nature—so powerful and efficacious in other matters—conciliate; nor does institution join; nor do so many commodities destined to proceed from consensus agglutinate; nor, finally, do the sense and experience of so great evils reduce them into mutual love. The figure common to all, the same voice, and whereas the other kinds of living beings differ among themselves chiefly by the forms of bodies, to man alone has been implanted the force of reason, which is so common among them with one another that it is common with none of the remaining living beings. To this living creature alone discourse has been given, the chief conciliator of relationships: the seeds of disciplines and of virtues are commonly implanted, a mild and placid nature, and a propension toward mutual benevolence, so that in itself it delights to be loved, and it is pleasant to deserve well of others even gratis, unless someone, corrupted by depraved desires, as by the drugs of Circe, degenerates from a man into a beast.

Hinc est, videlicet, quod vulgus, quidquid ad mutuam benevolentiam pertinet, humanum appellat, ut humanitatis vocabulum non iam naturam nobis declaret, sed mores hominis natura dignos. Addidit lacrymas, exorabilis ingenii documentum, [IV] quo si quid forte inciderit offensae, et amicitiae serenitatem nubecula aliqua obfuscarit, facile redeant in gratiam. En, quot rationibus natura concordiam docuit?

From this, namely, it comes that the common people call whatever pertains to mutual benevolence “human,” so that the vocabulary of humanity no longer declares for us nature, but the morals of a man worthy of nature. She added tears, a document of an exorable disposition, [4] by which, if perchance any offense has occurred and some little cloudlet has obscured the serenity of friendship, they may easily return into favor. Behold, by how many reasons has nature taught concord?

Nec his tamen contenta mutuae benevolentiae lenociniis, amicitiam homini non solum iucundam esse voluit, verum etiam necessariam. Eoque tum corporum, tum animorum dotes ita partita est, ut nemo sit omnium tam instructus, quin infimorum etiam officio nonnumquam adiuvetur: nec eadem attribuit omnibus, nec paria, ut haec inaequalitas mutuis amicitiis aequaretur.

Nor yet content with these enticements of mutual benevolence, she wished friendship to be for man not only pleasant, but even necessary. And to that end she has so portioned the endowments both of bodies and of souls, that there is no one among all so equipped as not to be sometimes helped by the service even of the lowest; nor has she attributed the same things to all, nor equal things, in order that this inequality might be equalized by mutual friendships.

Aliis in regionibus alia proveniunt, quo vel usus ipse mutua doceret commercia. Caeteris animantibus sua tribuit arma praesidiaque, quibus sese tuerentur, unum hominem produxit inermem, atque imbecillum, nec prorsus aliter tutum, quam foedere mutuaque necessitudine. Civitates reperit necessitas, et ipsarum inter se societatem docuit necessitas, quo ferarum ac praedonum vim cunctis viribus propellerent.

In different regions different things come forth, so that use itself might teach mutual commerce. To the other living creatures it assigned their own arms and protections, by which they might defend themselves; it brought forth man alone unarmed and weak, and in no wise safe except by covenant and mutual necessity. Necessity discovered cities, and necessity taught a society of these among themselves, in order that they might repel the force of wild beasts and brigands with all their powers.

Adeo nihil est in rebus humanis, quod ipsum sibi sufficiat. In ipsis statim vitae primordiis perisset hominum genus, [] nisi conditum propagasset coniugalis concordia: nec enim nasceretur homo, et mox natus interiret, atque in ipso vitae limine vitam amitteret, nisi obstetricum amica manus, nisi nutricum amica pietas, succurreret infantulo. Atque in hunc usum vehementissimos illos pietatis igniculos insevit, ut parentes etiam illud ament, quod nondum viderunt.

To such a degree there is nothing in human affairs that suffices to itself. In the very beginnings of life the human race would have perished at once, [] unless conjugal concord had propagated what was founded: for man would not be born, and soon after being born he would perish, and on the very threshold of life he would lose life, unless the friendly hand of the midwives, unless the friendly piety of the nurses, came to the aid of the little infant. And for this use he has sown those most vehement sparks of piety, that parents might love even that which they have not yet seen.

Adiecit mutuum liberorum erga parentes pietatem, ut illorum imbecillitas horum praesidiis vicissim sublevaretur, fieretque illa cunctis quidem ex aequo plausibilis, sed Graecis aptissime dicta antipelargosis. Accedunt huc cognationum et affinitatum vincula. Accedit in nonnullis ingeniorum, studiorum formaeque similitudo, certissima benevolentiae conciliatrix, in multis arcanus quidam animorum sensus, ac mirus ad mutuum amorem stimulus, quem veteres admirati Numini seu Genio adscribebant.

He added the reciprocal piety of children toward parents, that the weakness of the former might in turn be supported by the protections of the latter, and that this might be commendable to all equally, but by the Greeks most aptly called antipelargosis. To this are added the bonds of kinships and of affinity. There is added, in some, a similarity of talents, pursuits, and form, a most certain conciliator of benevolence; and in many, a certain secret sense of souls, and a wondrous stimulus to mutual love, which the ancients, marveling, used to ascribe to a Numen or to a Genius.

Tot argumentis natura docuit pacem concordiamque, tot illecebris ad eam invitat, tot laqueis trahit, tot rebus compellit. Et post haec quaenam ista tam ad nocendum efficax Erinnys, his omnibus disruptis, disiectis, discussis, insatiabilem pugnandi furiam insevit humanis pectoribus? [V] Nisi primum admirationem, deinde sensum etiam mali adimeret adsuetudo, quis crederet humana mente praeditos istos, qui sic iugibus dissidiis, litibus, bellis inter sese certant, rixantur, tumultuantur?

By so many arguments nature has taught peace and concord; by so many allurements she invites to it, by so many snares she draws, by so many means she compels. And after these things, what Erinys is this so efficacious for harming, that, all these having been torn, scattered, and dashed apart, has sown an insatiable fury of fighting in human breasts? [V] Unless custom first took away admiration, then even the sense of the evil, who would believe those to be endowed with a human mind, who thus in perpetual dissensions, litigations, and wars among themselves contend, wrangle, and raise tumults?

Postremo rapinis, sanguine, caedibus, ruinis, sacra profanaque miscent omnia: nec ulla tam sancta foedera, quae illos in mutuam perniciem debacchantes queant dirimere. Ut nihil etiam accesserit, satis erat commune hominis vocabulum, ut inter homines conveniret.

At last, with rapines, blood, slaughters, ruins, they commingle all things sacred and profane: nor are there any covenants so sacred as could, while they rave to mutual perdition, sever them. Even if nothing else had been added, the common appellation “man” would have sufficed, that among men there should be agreement.

Sed esto, nihil apud homines profecerit natura, quae plurimum valet et in belluis, itane nihil et apud Christianos valuit Christus? Parum efficax sit doctrina naturae, quae maximam vim habet in his quoque quae sensu vacant: caeterum cum hac multo praestantior sit doctrina Christi, cur ea se profitentibus non persuadet id quod unum omnium maxime suadet, nempe pacem mutuamque benevolentiam, aut saltem hanc tam impiam efferamque belligerandi insaniam dedocet? Cum hominis vocabulum audio, mox accurro velut ad animal mihi proprie natum, confidens fore ut illic liceat acquiescere: cura Christianorum audio titulum, magis etiam advolo, apud hos certe regnaturam etiam me sperans.

But be it so, that nature has effected nothing among men, which yet has very great power even in beasts—has Christ likewise availed nothing among Christians? Let the doctrine of nature be of little efficacy, which has the greatest force even in those things that lack sense; but since the doctrine of Christ is much more excellent than this, why does it not persuade those who profess it of that which, above all, it most urges, namely, peace and mutual benevolence, or at least unteach this so impious and feral insanity of belligerency? When I hear the name of man, I straightway run up, as to an animal properly born for me, confident that there it will be permitted to rest: when I hear the title of Christians, I fly thither even more, hoping that among these I shall surely even reign.

Sed hic quoque pudet ac piget dicere: Fora, basilicae, curiae, templa sic undique litibus perstrepunt, ut nusquam apud Ethnicos aeque. [VI] Adeo ut cum bona pars humanae calamitatis sit Advocatorum turba, tamen haec etiam ad litigantium undas paucitas sit, ac solitudo. Civitatem adspicio, spes illico oboritur, inter hos saltem convenire, quos eadem cingunt moenia, eaedem moderantur leges, et velut una vectos navi commune continet periculum.

But here too it is shameful and irksome to say: the forums, basilicas, curiae, temples thus on every side resound with lawsuits, that nowhere among the Ethnics equally. [6] To such a degree that, whereas the throng of Advocates is a good part of human calamity, yet even this, in comparison with the waves of litigants, is paucity and solitude. I look upon a city, hope straightway arises, that at least among these there may be concord—those whom the same walls gird, the same laws govern, and whom, as if borne in one ship, a common peril holds together.

Sed, o me miseram! quam hic quoque dissidiis omnia vitiata comperio, adeo ut vix domum ullam reperire liceat, in qua mihi sit dies aliquot locus. Sed plebem omitto, quae maris ritu, suis aestibus rapitur, in Principum aulas, velut in portum quemdam me recipio.

But, O wretched me! how here too I find all things vitiated by dissensions, to such a degree that it is scarcely permitted to find any house in which there is room for me for several days. But I pass over the plebs, who, after the fashion of the sea, is swept away by its own tides; into the halls of Princes, as into a certain harbor, I withdraw myself.

Erit, inquam, certe apud hos locus paci, plus hi sapiunt quam vulgus, ut qui sint plebis animus, atque oculus populi. Tum eius vices gerunt, qui doctor est et Princeps concordiae, a quo quidem cum omnibus, tum his praecipue sum commendata. Et omnia bene pollicentur.

There will be, I say, surely among these a place for peace; these men are wiser than the common crowd, as being the soul of the plebs and the eye of the people. Then they carry out the functions of him who is a doctor and Princeps of concord, by whom indeed I have been commended to all, yet especially to these. And they promise all things well.

Video blandas consalutationes, amicos complexus, hilares compotationes, caeteraque officia humanitatis. At, o rem indignam, apud hos nec umbram verae concordiae licuit cernere. Fucata fictaque omnia, [VI] factionibus apertis, clanculariis dissidiis ac simultatibus corrupta sunt universa.

I see blandishing mutual salutations, friendly embraces, cheerful compotations, and the other offices of humanity. But, O unworthy thing, among these it was permitted to discern not even the shadow of true concord. All things are painted-over and feigned, [6] by open factions and by clandestine dissensions and rivalries the whole is corrupted.

Denique adeo apud hos non esse sedem paci comperio, ut hinc potius omnium bellorum fontes ac seminaria. Quo me posthac conferam infelix, posteaquam toties fefellit spes? At Principes fortasse magni sunt potius quam eruditi, magisque ducuntur cupiditatibus, quam recto animi iudicio.

Finally I discover that there is no seat for peace among these men, but rather that from here spring the fountains and seedbeds of all wars. Whither shall I henceforth betake myself, unhappy as I am, after hope has so often deceived? But perhaps the Princes are great rather than erudite, and are led more by desires than by the right judgment of mind.

Ad eruditorum greges confugiam, Bonae litterae reddunt homines, Philosophia plusquam homines, Theologia reddit divos. Apud hos certe dabitur conquiescere, tot circumactae ambagibus. Verum, proh dolor!

I will flee to the flocks of the erudite, Good Letters make men, Philosophy makes more-than-men, Theology makes them divine. Among these surely it will be granted to come to rest, after being driven around by so many windings. But, alas!

en hic quoque bellorum aliud genus, minus quidem cruentum, sed tamen non minus insanum. Schola cum schola dissidet, et ceu rerum veritas loco commutetur, ita quaedam scita non traiiciunt mare, quaedam non superant Alpes, quaedam non tranant Rhenum, immo in eadem Academia cum Rhetore bellum est Dialectico, cum Iureconsulto dissidet Theologus. Atque adeo in eodem professionis genere, cum Thomista pugnat Scotista, cum Reali Nominalis, cum Peripatetico Platonicus, adeo ut ne in minutissimis quidem rebus inter hos conveniat, ac saepenumero de lana caprina atrocissime digladientur, donec disputationis calor ab argumentis ad convitia, a convitiis ad pugnos incrudescat, et si res pugionibus aut lanceis non agitur, stylis veneno tinctis sese confodiunt, dentata charta dilacerant invicem, alter in alterius famam letalia linguarum vibrant spicula.

Behold here too another kind of wars, less indeed bloody, yet nonetheless no less insane. School is at variance with school, and as if the truth of things were changed by place, certain decrees do not cross the sea, certain ones do not surmount the Alps, certain ones do not swim the Rhine; nay, in the same Academy the Rhetorician is at war with the Dialectician, the Theologian is at odds with the Jurisconsult. And indeed within the same genre of profession, the Scotist fights the Thomist, the Nominalist the Realist, the Platonist the Peripatetic, so that not even in the most minute matters is there agreement among them, and very often they fence most savagely about goat’s wool, until the heat of disputation grows harsher, from arguments to revilings, from revilings to fists; and if the affair is not conducted with daggers or lances, they stab one another with styli dipped in poison, with toothed paper they tear each other to pieces, the one against the other’s reputation brandishing the lethal darts of tongues.

[VII] Quo me vertam, toties experta mihi data verba? Quid superest, nisi una veluti sacra ancora Religio? Huius professio licet sit Christianorum omnium communis, tamen eam isti peculiariter profitentur titulo, cultu, cerimoniis, qui vulgo Sacerdotum cognomento commendantur.

[7] Where am I to turn, I who have so often experienced empty words? What remains, save Religion alone, as a kind of sacred anchor? Although the profession of this is common to all Christians, yet those in particular profess it by title, cult, and ceremonies, who are commonly commended by the by-name of Priests.

Hos itaque procul intuenti cuncta spem faciunt, portum mihi paratum esse. Arrident vestes candidae, meoque colore insignes, video cruces pacis symbola, audio dulcissimum illud fratris cognomen, eximiae caritatis argumentum, audio salutationes pacis, laeto omine felices, cerno rerum omnium communionem, coniunctum collegium, templum idem, leges easdem, conventus quotidianos. Quis hic non confidat paci locum fore?

Thus, to me looking at these men from afar, all things create hope that a harbor has been prepared for me. The white vestments smile, distinguished by my own color; I see crosses, symbols of peace; I hear that sweetest surname “brother,” an argument of exceptional charity; I hear salutations of peace, happy with a glad omen; I discern the communion of all things, a conjoined college, the same temple, the same laws, daily assemblies. Who here would not be confident that there will be a place for peace?

Sed, o rem indignam, nusquam fere collegio convenit cum Episcopo, parum hoc, nisi et ipsi inter sese factionibus scinderentur. Quotusquisque Sacerdos est, cui non sit cum aliquo Sacerdote lis? Paulus rem non ferendam censet, quod Christianus litiget adversus Christianum, et Sacerdos cum Sacerdote, Episcopus cum Episcopo certat?

But, O unworthy thing, almost nowhere does the college agree with the Bishop; and this is too little, unless they themselves also are torn among themselves by factions. How few Priests are there who do not have a suit with some Priest? Paul judges it a thing not to be borne, that a Christian should litigate against a Christian, and Priest with Priest, Bishop with Bishop contend?

Verum his quoque forsitan ignoscat aliquis, quod longo iam usu propemodum in profanorum consortium abierunt, posteaquam eadem cum illis coeperunt possidere. Age fruantur ii sane suo iure, quod ceu praescriptione sibi vindicant. Unum hominum genus superest, qui sic adstricti sunt religioni, ut etiam si cupiant, [VII] nullo pacto queant excutere, non magis profecto, quam testudo domum.

But perhaps someone may forgive these also, because by long usage they have now almost gone off into the consortium of the profane, after they began to possess the same things with them. Come now, let those indeed enjoy their own right, which they vindicate to themselves as if by prescription. One kind of men remains, who are so adstrict to religion, that even if they should desire it, [7] by no means can they shake it off, no more indeed than a tortoise its home.

Sperarem apud hos mihi fore locum, nisi toties frustrata spes me prorsus desperare docuisset. Et tamen ne quid intentatum relinquam, experiar. Quaeris exitum?

I would hope among these that there would be a place for me, if so many times a frustrated hope had not taught me to despair utterly. And yet, lest I leave anything unattempted, I will try. You ask the issue?

A nullis resilii magis. Nam, quid sperem, ubi religio cum religione dissidet? Tot factiones sunt, quot sunt sodalitia, Dominicales dissident cum Minoritis, Benedictini cum Bernardinis, tot nomina, tot cultus, tot cerimoniae studio diversae, ne quid omnino conveniret, sua cuique placent, aliena damnat et odit quisque.

I shrink back from none more. For what should I hope, where religion is at odds with religion? There are as many factions as there are sodalities; the Dominicans dissent from the Minorites, the Benedictines from the Bernardines; so many names, so many cults, so many ceremonies diverse by zeal, so that nothing at all might agree: each is pleased with his own, and each condemns and hates what is another’s.

Quin idem sodalitium factionibus scinditur, Observantes insectantur Coletas, utrique tertium genus, quod a conventu cognomen habet, cum nihil inter istos conveniat. Iam ut par est, omnibus rebus diffisa, optabam vel in uno quopiam Monasteriolo latitare, quod vere tranquillum esset. Invita dicam, quod utinam non esset verissimum, nullum adhuc reperi, quod non intestinis odiis ac iurgiis esset infectum.

Nay, the very sodality is rent by factions: the Observants hound the Colettans, and both assail a third kind, which has its cognomen from the convent, since nothing is agreed among these parties. Now, as is to be expected, distrustful of all things, I was wishing to lie hidden even in some little monastery that might be truly tranquil. Reluctant I say it—would that it were not most true—I have thus far found none that was not infected with intestine hatreds and quarrels.

Pudor sit recensere, quam nihili de nugis tricisque quantas cieant pugnas viri senes, barba pallioque verendi, postremo, ut sibi videntur, impense tum eruditi, tum sancti. Arridebat spes nonnulla, fore, ut alicubi inter tot coniugia qualiscumque daretur locus. Quid enim non pollicetur, domus communis, fortuna communis, lectus communis, liberi communes?

Let it be a shame to recount how, over trifles and quibbles worth nothing, what great battles are stirred up by old men—men to be revered for their beard and cloak, and finally, as they seem to themselves, exceedingly both erudite and holy. Some small hope smiled that somewhere among so many marriages some sort of place would be granted. For what does it not promise—a common house, a common fortune, a common bed, common children?

[VIII] Denique corporum ipsorum ius mutuum, ut unum potius hominem credas e duobus conflatum, quam duos? Huc quoque sceleratissima illa Eris irrepsit, totque vinculis copulatos dirimit dissidiis animorum. Et tamen inter hos citius contingat locus, quam inter eos, qui tot titulis, tot insignibus, tot cerimoniis absolutam caritatem profitentur.

[8] Finally, the mutual right of the bodies themselves is such that you would sooner believe one man fused from two, rather than two. Here too that most wicked Eris has crept in, and she sunders those coupled by so many bonds by dissensions of minds. And yet among these a place would more quickly be found than among those who with so many titles, so many insignia, so many ceremonies profess absolute charity.

Tandem illud in votis esse coepit, ut saltem in unius hominis pectore daretur locus. Ne id quidem contigit, idem homo secum pugnat, Ratio belligeratur cum affectibus, et insuper affectus cura affectu conflictatur, dura alio vocat pietas, alio trahit cupiditas: rursum aliud suadet libido, aliud ira, aliud ambitio, aliud avaritia. Et huiusmodi cum sint, non pudet tamen illos appellari Christianos, cum modis omnibus dissideant ab eo, quod Christo praecipuum est ac peculiare.

At last this began to be among the vows: that at least in the breast of one man a place might be granted. Not even that came to pass: the same man fights with himself; Reason wages war with the affections, and moreover affection, through care, clashes with affection; piety calls to a hard path in one direction, cupidity draws in another: again libido urges one thing, anger another, ambition another, avarice another. And though such as these they are, yet they are not ashamed to be called Christians, while in every way they disagree from that which is preeminent and peculiar to Christ.

Universam eius vitam contemplare, quid aliud est quam concordiae mutuique amoris doctrina? Quid aliud inculcant eius praecepta, quid parabolae, nisi pacem, nisi caritatem mutuam? Egregius ille vates Esaias, cum coelesti afflatus spiritu, Christum illum rerum omnium conciliatorem venturum annunciaret, num satrapam pollicetur?

Contemplate his whole life: what else is it than a doctrine of concord and of mutual love? What else do his precepts inculcate, what the parables, if not peace, if not mutual charity? That distinguished seer Isaiah, when, inspired by the heavenly Spirit, he announced that Christ, the reconciler of all things, would come—does he promise a satrap?

num urbium eversorem, num bellatorem, num triumphatorem? Nequaquam. Quid igitur?

Surely not an overthrower of cities, surely not a warrior, surely not a triumphator? By no means. What then?

Principem Pacis. Siquidem cura omnium optimum Principem intelligi vellet, ab ea re denotavit, quam omnium optimam iudicasset. Neque mirum ita visum Esaiae, [VIII] cum Silius Ethnicus Poeta hunc in modum de me scripserit:

The Prince of Peace. Since indeed, in the interest of all, he wished the best Prince to be understood, he denoted him by that thing which he had judged the best of all. Nor is it a wonder that it so seemed to Esaias, [8] since Silius the Gentile Poet has written in this manner about me:

Pax optima rerum, Quas homini natura dedit.

Peace, the best of things, Which nature gave to man.

Concinit huic mysticus ille Citharoedus: Et factus est, inquiens, in pace locus eius. In pace dixit, non in tentoriis, non in castris. Princeps est pacis, pacem amat, offenditur dissidio.

To this the mystical Citharoedus sings in concert: “And his place was made in peace,” he says. In peace, he said, not in tents, not in camps. He is the Prince of peace, he loves peace, he is offended by dissension.

Rursum Esaias: Opus iustitiae pacem appellat, idem sentiens, ni fallor, quod sensit Paulus ille, et ipse e Saulo turbulento redditus tranquillus, et pacis doctor, cum caritatem caeteris omnibus arcani spiritus dotibus anteponens, quo pectore, qua facundia meum encomium detonuit Corinthiis? Cur enim non glorier sic laudari a viro tam laudato? Is alias Deum pacis appellat, alias pacem Dei vocat, palam indicans, haec duo sic inter sese cohaerere, ut ibi pax esse non possit, ubi Deus non adsit: nec illic esse Deus possit, ubi pax non adsit.

Again Isaiah: he calls peace the work of justice, thinking the same, if I am not mistaken, as that Paul sensed—he who himself, from turbulent Saul, was rendered tranquil, and a doctor of peace—who, preferring charity to all the other gifts of the arcane Spirit, with what heart, with what eloquence did he thunder out my encomium to the Corinthians? For why should I not glory to be thus praised by so praised a man? He at one time calls God the God of peace, at another calls peace the peace of God, openly indicating that these two so cohere with one another that peace cannot be there where God is not present, nor can God be there where peace is not present.

Itidem et pacis Angelos in divinis libris vocatos legimus, pios ac Dei ministros, ut per se liqueat, quos belli Angelos oporteat accipi. Audite strenui bellatores, videte sub cuius signis militetis, nimirum, illius, qui primus dissidium sevit inter Deum et hominem. Quidquid calamitatum sentit mortalitas, huic dissidio debet acceptum ferre.

Likewise we read in the divine books Angels of peace so called, pious and ministers of God, so that it is plain in itself whom one ought to take as Angels of war. Hear, strenuous warriors; see under whose standards you serve as soldiers—namely, of him who first sowed dissension between God and man. Whatever calamities mortality feels, it ought to attribute to this dissension.

Frivolum est enim quod argutantur quidam, [IX] in arcanis litteris Deum exercituum, et Deum ultionum dici. Permultum enim interest inter Iudaeorum Deum, et Christianorum Deum, etiamsi suapte natura unus et idem Deus est. Aut si nobis quoque placent tituli veteres, age sit exercituum Deus, modo acies intelligas virtutum concentum, quarum praesidio vitia demoliuntur homines pii.

For frivolous is the quibbling of certain people, [9] that in the arcane letters God is called the God of hosts and the God of vengeance. For there is very much difference between the God of the Jews and the God of the Christians, although by his own nature he is one and the same God. Or if the ancient titles please us too, come, let him be the God of hosts, provided that you understand the battle-lines as the concert of virtues, by whose protection pious men demolish vices.

Sit ultionum Deus, modo vindictam accipias, vitiorum correctionem, ut cruentas strages, quibus Hebraeorum libri referti sunt, non ad laniandos homines, sed ad impios affectus e pectore profligandos referas. Sed ut quod institutum erat, persequamur, quoties absolutam felicitatem significant arcanae litterae, pacis nomine id declarant. Velut Esaias: Sedebit, inquit, populus meus in pulcritudine pacis.

Let Him be a God of avengings, provided that you take vengeance as the correction of vices, so that the bloody slaughters with which the books of the Hebrews are filled you refer not to the lacerating of men, but to impious affections to be routed from the breast. But, that we may pursue what had been instituted, whenever the arcane letters signify absolute felicity, they declare it by the name of peace. As Isaiah says: “My people will sit in the beauty of peace.”

Et alius: Pax, inquit, super Israel. Rursum, Esaias admiratur pedes annunciantium pacem, annunciantium bona.

And another: Peace, he says, upon Israel. Again, Esaias admires the feet of those announcing peace, those announcing good things.

Quisquis Christum annunciat, pacem annunciat. Quisquis bellum praedicat, illum praedicat, qui Christi dissimillimus est. Age iam, quae res Dei Filium pellexit in terras, nisi ut mundum Patri reconciliaret?

Whoever announces Christ, announces peace. Whoever preaches war, preaches him who is most dissimilar to Christ. Come now, what was it that drew the Son of God onto the earth, except that he might reconcile the world to the Father?

ut homines inter se mutua et indissolubili caritate conglutinaret? postremo, ut ipsum hominem sibi faceret amicum? [IX] Mea igitur gratia legatus erat, meum agebat negotium.

to cement men among themselves with mutual and indissoluble charity? finally, to make the human being himself his friend? [9] Therefore, for my sake he was a legate; he was conducting my business.

Atque ob id Solomonem sui typum ferre voluit, qui nobis geirehnopoios, id est, pacificus, dicitur. Quantumuis magnus erat David, tamen, quia bellator erat, quia sanguine fuerat inquinatus, non sinitur exstruere domum Domini, non meretur hac parte gerere typum Christi pacifici. Iam illud interim perpende, bellator, si profanant bella, Numinis iussu suscepta gestaque, quid facient quae suasit ambitio, quae ira, quae furor?

And on account of this he wished Solomon to bear his own type, who is called among us eirenopoios, that is, pacific. However great David was, yet, because he was a warrior, because he had been stained with blood, he is not permitted to build the house of the Lord; he does not merit in this respect to bear the type of the pacific Christ. Now weigh this meanwhile, warrior: if wars, undertaken and carried out by the command of the Divinity, profane, what will those do which ambition has urged on, which anger, which fury?

Si pium Regem polluit effusus sanguis Ethnicorum, quid faciet tam ingens effusio sanguinis Christiani? Obsecro te Christiane Princeps, si modo vere Christianus es, contemplare tui Principis imaginem, observa quomodo regnum suum inierit, quomodo progressus sit, quomodo hinc decesserit, et mox intelliges quomodo abs te geri velit, nimirum, ut summa curarum tuarum pax sit, et concordia. Nato iam Christo, num bellicis tubis insonant Angeli?

If the outpoured blood of Pagans defiled the pious King, what will so great an outpouring of Christian blood do? I beseech you, Christian Prince, if indeed you are truly Christian, contemplate the image of your Prince; observe how he entered upon his reign, how he advanced, how he departed hence, and you will soon understand how he wishes it to be conducted by you—namely, that peace and concord be the summit of your cares. Now that Christ is born, do the Angels resound with warlike trumpets?

Clangorem tubarum audiere Iudaei, quibus bellare permissum est. Haec congruebant auspicia, quibus fas erat odisse inimicos: At genti pacificae longe aliam cantionem canunt pacis Angeli. Num classicum canunt?

The Jews heard the clangor of the trumpets, to whom it was permitted to wage war. These auspices were congruent for those to whom it was right to hate their enemies; but to a pacific people the Angels of peace sing a far different song. Do they sound the battle-clarion?

Num victorias, triumphos, trophaeaque pollicentur? Minime. Quid tandem?

Do they promise victories, triumphs, and trophies? By no means. What then, pray?

pacem annunciant, congruentes cum Prophetarum oraculis, et annunciant non iis, [X] qui caedes spirant ac bella, qui feroces ad arma gestiunt, sed qui bona voluntate propensi sint ad concordiam. Praetexant quae velint suo morbo mortales, ni bellum amarent, non sic iugibus bellis inter se conflictarentur. Age Christus ipse iam adultus, quid aliud docuit, quid aliud expressit, quam pacem?

they announce peace, congruent with the oracles of the Prophets, and they announce it not to those, [10] who breathe slaughter and wars, who, ferocious, are eager for arms, but to those who with good will are inclined to concord. Let mortals put forward whatever pretexts they will from their own malady; if they did not love war, they would not thus with perpetual wars be clashing among themselves. Come now, Christ himself already adult—what else did he teach, what else did he express, than peace?

Pacis omine suos subinde salutat, Pax vobis, eamque salutandi formam suis praescribit, velut unice dignam Christianis. Atque huius praecepti non immemores Apostoli, pacem praefantur in suis Epistolis, pacem optant iis, quos unice diligunt. Rem praeclaram optat, qui salutem optat, sed felicitatis summam precatur, quisquis pacem precatur.

He under the auspice of peace greets his own repeatedly, “Peace to you,” and he prescribes that form of saluting to his own, as uniquely worthy of Christians. And the Apostles, not unmindful of this precept, preface peace in their Epistles, they opt for peace for those whom they uniquely love. He opts for a distinguished thing who opts for salvation; but he prays for the summit of felicity, whoever prays for peace.

Hanc ille toties in omni vita commendatam, vide quanta sollicitudine commendet moriturus: Diligatis, inquit, invicem sicut dilexi vos. Ac rursum: Pacem meam do vobis, pacem relinquo vobis. Auditis quid relinquat suis?

This, so often commended by him throughout his whole life—see with what great solicitude he commends it when about to die: “Love one another,” he says, “as I have loved you.” And again: “My peace I give to you, my peace I leave to you.” Do you hear what he leaves to his own?

num equos? num satellitium? num imperium?

Is it horses? Is it a bodyguard? Is it an empire?

num opes? nihil horum. Quid igitur?

wealth? nothing of these. What then?

pacem dat, pacem relinquit: pacem cum amicis, pacem cum inimicis. Iam illud mihi consideres velim, quid a coena mystica, iam imminente mortis tempore, supremis illis precibus flagitarit a Patre. Rem opinor haud vulgarem poposcit, qui se sciebat impetraturum quidquid peteret.

He gives peace, he leaves peace: peace with friends, peace with enemies. Now this I would have you consider, what, after the Mystical Supper, when the time of death was now impending, he earnestly demanded from the Father in those final prayers. I suppose he asked for no common thing, he who knew that he would obtain whatever he should petition.

Pater, inquit, sancte, serva eos in nomine tuo, ut sint unum, sicut et nos. Vide, quaeso, quam insignem concordiam exigat in suis Christus: [X] non dixit, ut sint unanimes, sed ut sint unum: neque id quocumque modo, sed sicuti nos, inquit, unum sumus, qui perfectissima et ineffabili ratione sumus idem: et illud obiter indicans, hac una via servandos esse mortales, si mutuam inter sese pacem aluerint. Porro quod huius mundi Principes insigni quopiam suos notant, quo possint a caeteris dignosci, praesertim in bello: vide qua tandem nota Christus insignierit suos, non alia, videlicet, quam mutuae caritatis.

Father, he says, holy, keep them in your name, that they may be one, just as we are. See, I pray, how remarkable a concord Christ demands in his own: [10] he did not say, that they should be unanimous, but that they should be one; nor that in just any manner, but “as,” he says, “we are one,” we who by a most perfect and ineffable rationale are the same; and indicating this by the way, that by this one path mortals are to be preserved, if they shall have fostered mutual peace among themselves. Furthermore, whereas the Princes of this world mark their own with some insignia, by which they can be distinguished from the rest, especially in war: see with what token at length Christ has marked his own—no other, namely, than mutual charity.

Hoc, inquiens, argumento cognoscent homines vos esse meos discipulos, non si sic aut sic vestiamini, non si his aut his vestamini cibis, non si tantum ieiunetis, non si tantum Psalmorum exhauseritis, sed si dilexeritis invicem, neque id sane vulgari modo, sed quemadmodum ego dilexi vos. Innumera sunt Philosophorum praecepta, varia sunt Moysi, plurima Regum edicta, unicum est, inquit, praceptum meum, ut ametis invicem. Idem orandi formam suis praescribens, nonne in ipso statim initio mire admonet concordiae Christianae?

By this, says he, argument men will recognize you to be my disciples, not if you are clothed thus or thus, not if you are fed with these or those foods, not if you fast so much, not if you have so drained the Psalms, but if you love one another—and that not, to be sure, in a vulgar way, but as I have loved you. The precepts of the Philosophers are innumerable, those of Moses are various, the edicts of Kings are very many; my single precept, says he, is that you love one another. The same one, prescribing to his own the form of praying, does he not at once in the very beginning wondrously admonish of Christian concord?

Pater, inquit, noster. Unius est precatio, una communis omnium est postulatio, una domus, eademque familia sunt omnes, ab uno patre pendent omnes, et qui convenit eos iugibus bellis inter sese conflictari? Quo ore compellas communem patrem, si in fratris tui viscera ferrum stringis?

“Father,” he says, “our.” It is the supplication of one; one petition common to all; one house, and all are the same family; all depend upon one Father—and how is it fitting that they conflict among themselves with perpetual wars? With what mouth will you address the common Father, if you draw iron against your brother’s viscera?

Iam quoniam unum hoc voluit altissime insidere suorum animis, quot symbolis, quot parabolis, quot praeceptis concordiae studium inculcavit? Se pastorem vocat, suos oves. [XI] Et, obsecro, quis umquam vidit oves pugnantes cum ovibus?

Now, since he wished this one thing to settle most deeply into the minds of his own, by how many symbols, by how many parables, by how many precepts did he inculcate the zeal for concord? He calls himself a shepherd, his own, sheep. [11] And, I beseech, who ever saw sheep fighting with sheep?

Aut quid faciunt lupi, si grex ipse semet invicem lacerat? Cum se vitis stirpem vocat, suos vero palmites, quid aliud quam expressit unanimitatem? Portentum videatur piaculis procurandum, si in eadem vite palmes cum palmite bellet: et ostentum non est, si Christianus pugnet cum Christiano?

Or what have the wolves to do, if the flock itself lacerates itself one against another? When he calls himself the vine-stock, and his own, indeed, the branches, what else did he express than unanimity? Let it be deemed a portent to be dealt with by piacular rites, if on the same vine a branch should wage war with a branch: and is it not an omen, if a Christian fights with a Christian?

Postremo si quid omnino Christianis sacrosanctum est, certe sacrosanctum esse debet, ac penitus animis illorum insidere, quae Christus extremis illis mandatis tradidit, veluti testamentum condens, ac filiis ea commendans, quae cuperet illis numquam venire in oblivionem. At quid aliud in his docet, mandat, praecipit, orat, nisi mutuum inter ipsos amorem? Quid illa sacrosancti panis, et calicis philotesii communio, nisi novam quamdam et indissolubilem concordiam sanxit?

Finally, if anything at all is sacrosanct for Christians, surely sacrosanct and to sink deeply into their minds ought to be those things which Christ in those last commands handed down, as it were composing a testament, and commending to his sons the things which he would desire never to come into oblivion for them. But what else in these does he teach, mandate, prescribe, beseech, except mutual love among themselves? What did that communion of the sacrosanct bread and of the cup of philotesis (friendship) sanction, except a certain new and indissoluble concord?

Caeterum quando sciebat non posse constare pacem, ubi de magistratu, de gloria, de opibus, de vindicta certamen est, ideo penitus affectus eiusmodi revellit ex animis suorum, vetat in totum ne malo resistant, iubet ut de male merentibus bene mereantur si possint, bene precentur male precantibus. Et Christiani sibi videntur, qui ob quantumuis levem iniuriolam, magnam orbis partem in bellum pertrahunt? [XI] Praecipit ut qui in suo populo sit Princeps, is ministrum agat, nec alia re praecellat aliis, nisi quod melior sit, et pluribus prosit.

Moreover, since he knew that peace cannot stand where there is contention about the magistracy, about glory, about opulence, about vindicta, therefore he utterly tore such affections up by the roots from the souls of his own: he altogether forbids that they resist evil; he bids that they should do well by the ill‑deserving, if they can, and pray good for those who imprecate. And do they seem to themselves Christians, who for any, however light, little injury drag a great part of the world into war? [11] He prescribes that whoever is a Prince among his own people should act as a minister, and excel others in no other respect except that he is better and profits more persons.

Et non pudet quosdam ob pusillam accessiunculam, regni pomoeriis addendam, tantos ciere tumultus? Docet avium et liliorum ritu in diem vivere. Vetat sollicitudinem in posterum diem extendere, vult totos e coelo pendere, divites omnes excludit e regno coelorum: et non verentur quidam ob pecuniolam non exsolutam, fortasse nec debitam, tantum humani sanguinis effundere?

And are some not ashamed, on account of a puny little accession to be added to the kingdom’s boundaries, to stir up such great tumults? He teaches to live for the day after the manner of the birds and the lilies. He forbids extending solicitude into the following day, he wills that they depend wholly upon heaven, he excludes all the rich from the kingdom of heaven: and do some not fear, on account of a little money not paid, perhaps not even owed, to pour out so much human blood?

Atque his temporibus hae vel iustissimae suscipiendi belli causae videntur. Profecto haud aliud agit Christus, iubens ut unum quiddam a se discant, miti esse animo, minimeque feroci. Cum iubet relinqui donarium ad aram, nec prius offerri, quam cum fratre reditum sit in gratiam, nonne palam docet rebus omnibus anteponendam esse concordiam, nec ullam victimam esse Deo gratam, nisi commendante me? Respuebat Deus Iudaicum munus, fortassis haedum, aut ovem, quod a dissidentibus offerretur: et Christiani sic inter sese belligerantes, sacrosanctam illam victimam audent offerre?

And in these times these seem even the most just causes for undertaking war. Indeed Christ does nothing else, bidding that they learn one particular thing from himself: to be mild in spirit, and in no way ferocious. When he commands that the donary be left at the altar, and not be offered before there has been a return into favor with one’s brother, does he not plainly teach that concord is to be preferred before all things, and that no victim is pleasing to God, unless commended by me? God rejected the Judaic gift—perhaps a kid or a sheep—because it was being offered by those at variance: and do Christians, thus warring among themselves, dare to offer that sacrosanct victim?

Iam cum se gallinae pullos sub alas aggreganti facit adsimilem, quam apto symbolo depinxit concordiam? [XII] Ille congregator est, et qui convertit Christianos esse milvios? Eodem pertinet, quod lapis dictus est angularis, utrumque parietem committens et continens: et qui convenit, ut huius vicarii totum orbem ad arma commoveant, regnaque regnis committant?

Now when he makes himself like to a hen gathering her chicks under her wings, with how apt a symbol did he portray concord? [12] He is a gatherer; and is he the one who converts Christians into kites? To the same point pertains that he is called a corner-stone, joining and holding together both walls: and how is it fitting that the vicars of this one should stir the whole world to arms, and set kingdoms against kingdoms?

Summum illum conciliatorem habent Principem, ut iactant, et nullis rationibus ipsi sibi possunt reconciliari. Conciliavit ille Pilatum et Herodem, et suos in concordiam redigere non potest? Petrum adhuc semiIudaeum, qui in praesenti capitis discrimine, Dominum ac Praeceptorem tueri parabat, obiurgat ipse qui defendebatur, gladiumque iubet recondere: et Christianis ob levissimas causas numquam non expromptus districtusque est gladius, idque in Christianos.

They have, as they boast, that supreme conciliator for a Prince, and by no reasons can they reconcile themselves with themselves. He reconciled Pilate and Herod, and cannot bring his own back into concord? Peter, still semi-Jewish, who, in immediate capital peril, was preparing to defend the Lord and Preceptor, is rebuked by the very one who was being defended, and is ordered to sheathe the sword: and for the most trivial causes among Christians the sword is never not at the ready and drawn—and that against Christians.

An ille se gladii praesidio defensum velit, qui moriens deprecatur pro necis auctoribus? Omnes Christianorum litterae, sive Vetus legas Testamentum, sive Novum, nihil aliud quam pacem et unanimitatem crepant, et omnis Christianorum vita nihil aliud quam bella tractat? Quaenam est haec plus quam ferina feritas, quae tot rebus nec vinci potest, nec leniri?

Would he wish to have himself defended by the protection of the sword, who, dying, makes intercession for the authors of his murder? Do all the writings of Christians—whether you read the Old Testament or the New—cry out nothing but peace and unanimity, and is the whole life of Christians occupied with nothing but wars? What is this more-than-bestial ferocity, which by so many things can be neither overcome nor softened?

Quin potius aut Christianorum titulo gloriari desinant, aut Christi doctrinam exprimant concordia. Quousque vita pugnabit cum nomine? Insignite quantumlibet aedes vestesque crucis imagine, non agnoscet Christus symbolum, nisi quod ipse praescripsit, videlicet, concordiae.

Rather, let them either cease to glory in the title of Christians, or express the doctrine of Christ by concord. How long will life war with the name? Emblazon your shrines and garments with the image of the cross as much as you please, Christ will not recognize the symbol, except that which he himself prescribed, namely, that of concord.

Congregati vident euntem in coelum, congregati iubentur operiri spiritum coelestem. Et inter congregatos se semper versaturum promiserat, ne quis speraret usquam in bellis adesse Christum. [XII] Iam igneus ille spiritus, quid aliud est quam caritas?

Gathered, they see him going into heaven, gathered, they are ordered to wait for the celestial Spirit. And he had promised that he would always be present among those gathered, lest anyone should hope that Christ is anywhere present in wars. [12] Now that fiery Spirit, what else is it than charity?

Nihil igne communius, citra dispendium ullum ignis igni accenditur. Vis autem cognoscere spiritum illum concordiae parentem esse? exitum vide.

Nothing is more common than fire; without any loss fire is kindled from fire. Do you wish, moreover, to recognize that that spirit is the parent of concord? See the outcome.

Erat, inquit, cunctis cor unum, et anima una.

There was, he says, one heart for all, and one soul.

Tolle spiritum e corpore, continuo dilabitur omnis illa membrorum compago. Tolle pacem, et perit omnis Christianae vitae societas. Tot hodie sacramentis infundi coelestem spiritum affirmant Theologi.

Remove the spirit from the body, immediately the whole structure of the members slips apart. Remove peace, and the whole society of Christian life perishes. Theologians affirm that today by so many sacraments the celestial spirit is infused.

Si verum praedicant, ubi peculiaris spiritus illius effectus, cor unum et anima una? Sin fabulae sunt, cur tantam honoris hisce rebus defertur? Atque haec sane dixerim, quo magis Christianos suorum morum pudeat, non quo sacramentis aliquid detraham.

If they truly preach, where is the peculiar effect of that Spirit—one heart and one soul? But if they are fables, why is so great an honor bestowed upon these things? And I would assuredly say these things, to the end that Christians may be the more ashamed of their own morals, not that I detract anything from the sacraments.

Nam quod populum Christianum Ecclesiam vocari placuit, quid aliud quam unanimitatis admonet? Qui convenit castris et Ecclesiae? Haec aggregationem sonat, illa dissidium: si pars Ecclesiae gloriaris esse, quid tibi cum bellis?

For in that it has pleased that the Christian people be called the Church, what else does it admonish but unanimity? What accord is there between the camp and the Church? This sounds like aggregation, that like dissension: if you boast that you are a part of the Church, what have you to do with wars?

si ab Ecclesia semotus es, quid tibi cum Christo? Si eadem omnes habet domus, si communem habetis Principem, si eidem militatis omnes, si sacramentis iisdem estis initiati, [XIII] si iisdem gaudetis donativis, si iisdem alimini stipendiis, si commune petitur praemium, quid ita inter vos tumultuamini? Videmus inter impios istos commilitones, qui mercede ad caedis peragendae ministerium conducti veniunt, tantam esse concordiam, non ob aliud, nisi quod sub iisdem militant signis, et pietatem profitentes tot res non conglutinant?

if you are removed from the Church, what have you to do with Christ? If the same house holds you all, if you have a common Prince, if you all serve as soldiers for the same One, if you have been initiated by the same sacraments, [13] if you rejoice in the same donatives, if you are sustained by the same stipends, if a common reward is sought, why then do you raise a tumult among yourselves? We see among those impious fellow-soldiers, who come hired for pay to the service of carrying through slaughter, so great a concord, for no other reason except that they soldier under the same standards; and do not so many things cement together those professing piety?

Itane nihil agitur tot Sacramentis? Baptismus communis omnium, per hunc Christo renascimur, et exsecti mundo Christi membris inserimur. Quid autem tam idem esse potest, quam eiusdem corporis membra?

Is then nothing accomplished by so many Sacraments? Baptism is common to all; through this we are reborn unto Christ, and, excised from the world, we are inserted into the members of Christ. What, moreover, can be so identical as the members of the same body?

Ab hoc igitur, neque servus est quisquam, neque liber, neque Barbarus, neque Graecus, neque vir, neque foemina, sed omnes idem in Christo sunt, qui omnia redigit in concordiam. Scythas ita iungit paululum sanguinis utrimque gustati e calice, ut pro amico nihil cunctentur et mortem oppetere, Ethnicis etiam sancta est amicitia, quam mensa communis conciliavit: et Christianos coelestis ille panis, ac mysticus ille calix non continet in amicitia, quam ipse sanxit Christus, quam illi quotidie renovant, ac repraesentant sacrificiis? Si nihil illic egit Christus, quorsum opus hodie tot cerimoniis?

Therefore, from him, no one is slave nor free, nor Barbarian nor Greek, nor man nor woman, but all are the same in Christ, who reduces all things into concord. A little blood, tasted by both sides from a chalice, so joins Scythians that they hesitate at nothing—even to meet death—for a friend; even among pagans friendship is sacred, which a common table has conciliated: and does not that celestial bread and that mystical chalice contain Christians in the friendship which Christ himself sanctioned, which they daily renew and re-present by sacrifices? If Christ did nothing there, to what purpose is there today the need of so many ceremonies?

si rem seriam egit, cur sic a vobis negligitur, quasi rem ludicram ac scenicam egerit? Audet quisquam ad sacram illam mensam amicitiae symbolum, [XIII] audet ad pacis convivium accedere, qui bellum destinat in Christianos, et eos parat perdere, pro quibus servandis mortuus est Christus, eorum haurire sanguinem, pro quibus suum sanguinem fudit Christus? O pectora plus quam adamantina, in rebus tam multis consortium est, et in vita tam inexplicabile dissidium?

if he accomplished a serious matter, why is it thus neglected by you, as though he had performed a ludic and scenic affair? does anyone dare to approach that sacred table, the symbol of friendship, [13] does anyone dare to come to the banquet of peace, who destines war against Christians, and prepares to destroy those for whose being kept safe Christ died, to drink up the blood of those for whom Christ poured out his own blood? O hearts more than adamantine, is there fellowship in so many things, and in life so inexplicable a dissension?

Eadem nascendi lex omnibus, eadem senescendi moriendique necessitas. Eumdem generis Principem habent omnes, eumdem religionis auctorem, eodem omnes redempti sanguine, iisdem omnes initiati sacris, iisdem aluntur Sacramentis, quidquid ex his redit muneris, ab eodem proficiscitur fonte, et ex aequo commune est omnibus. Eadem omnium Ecclesia, denique praemium idem omnium.

The same law of being born for all, the same necessity of growing old and of dying. All have the same Prince of the race, the same author of religion, all redeemed by the same blood, all initiated in the same sacred rites, nourished by the same Sacraments; whatever of gift returns from these proceeds from the same fountain, and is in equal measure common to all. The Church of all is the same, and finally the same reward for all.

Quin coelestis illa Hierusalem, ad quam suspirant vere Christiani, a pacis visione nomen habet, cuius interim Ecclesia typum sustinet. Et qui fit, ut haec tantopere discrepet ab exemplari? Adeo nihil promovit tot viis solers natura, nihil ipse Christus profecit tot praeceptis, tot mysteriis, tot symbolis?

Indeed that celestial Jerusalem, for which true Christians sigh, has its name from the vision of peace, whose type the Church meanwhile sustains. And how does it come about that this differs so greatly from the exemplar? Has skillful nature advanced nothing by so many ways, has Christ himself achieved nothing by so many precepts, so many mysteries, so many symbols?

Vel ipsa mala conciliant et malos, iuxta proverbium: Christianos inter se, nec bona, nec mala ulla conciliant. Quid humana vita fragilius, quid brevius? quot ea morbis, quot casibus obnoxia?

Even the very evils conciliate even the wicked, according to the proverb: Christians, among themselves, are conciliated by neither good things nor any evils. What is more fragile than human life, what briefer? To how many diseases, to how many contingencies is it liable?

[XI] Et tamen cum plus habeat ex sese malorum quam ut ferri possit, tamen maximam malorum partem ipsi sibi accersunt dementes. Tanta caecitas humanos animos occupat, ut nihil horum perspiciant. Sic praecipites aguntur, ut omnia naturae Christique vincula, omnia foedera rumpant, dissecent, diffringant.

[11] And yet, although it has more evils from itself than can be borne, nevertheless the mad call down upon themselves the greatest share of the evils. So great a blindness occupies human minds that they perceive none of these things. Thus they are driven headlong, to the point that they rupture all the bonds of nature and of Christ, all covenants they dissect and fracture.

Pugnant passim atque assidue, tumultuandi nec modus, nec finis. Colliditur gens cum gente, civitas cum civitate, factio cum factione, Princeps cum Principe, et ob duorum homuncionum, qui mox velut ephemera sint interituri, seu stultitiam, seu ambitionem, res humanae sursum deorsum miscentur.

They fight everywhere and continually; of tumult-making there is neither measure nor end. Nation collides with nation, city with city, faction with faction, Prince with Prince; and on account of two little men, who soon, like ephemera, will perish—whether through stupidity or through ambition—human affairs are tossed up and down into confusion.

Missas faciam veterum bellorum tragoedias. Repetamus decem ab hinc annis acta, ubi non gentium crudelissime pugnatum est terra marique? Quae regio non Christiano sanguine commaduit?

I will pass over the tragedies of ancient wars. Let us recall the deeds of 10 years past: where has it not been fought most cruelly by the nations, on land and sea? What region has not been drenched with Christian blood?

Quod flumen, quod mare, non humano cruore tinctum est? Et, o pudor, pugnant immanius, quam Iudaei, quam Ethnici, quam ferae. Quidquid bellorum Iudaeis gestum est adversus Allophylos, id Christianis gerendum erat adversus vitia, quibus nunc cum vitiis convenit, cum hominibus bellum est.

What river, what sea, has not been stained with human blood? And, O shame, they fight more monstrously than Jews, than Gentiles, than beasts. Whatever wars were waged by the Jews against the Allophyls (Philistines), that ought to have been waged by Christians against vices; whereas now there is concord with vices, but with men there is war.

Et tamen Iudaeos divina iussio ducebat ad pugnam. Christianos, si, praetextibus detractis, rem vere aestimes, [XIV] transversos rapit ambitio, agit ira pessimus consultor, pertrahit habendi numquam satiata cupiditas. Atque his fere cum exteris res erat, Christianis cum Turcis foedus est, inter ipsos bellum.

And yet a divine injunction was leading the Jews to battle. Christians, if, with pretexts stripped off, you assess the matter truly, [14] ambition snatches them off-course, anger, the worst counselor, drives them, the cupidity of having, never sated, drags them along. And in these matters it was for the most part with foreigners; for Christians there is a treaty with the Turks, among themselves a war.

Iam Ethnicos Tyrannos fere gloriae sitis ad bellum exstimulabat, atque hi tamen sic Barbaras atque efferas nationes subigebant, ut vinci expediret, et victor de victis bene mereri studeret. Dabant operam, ut quam fieri posset, incruenta esset victoria, quo simul et victori honesta fama praemium esset, et victis solatium victoris benignitas.

By now Gentile tyrants were almost being goaded to war by a thirst for glory; and yet even so they used to subdue barbarous and savage nations in such a way that it was expedient to be conquered, and the victor strove to merit well of the conquered. They took pains that, so far as could be done, the victory might be bloodless, so that at once both for the victor honorable fame might be the reward, and for the vanquished the kindness of the victor a consolation.

At pudet meminisse, quam pudendis, quam frivolis de causis, Christiani Principes orbem ad arma concitent. Hic obsoletum ac putrem aliquem titulum, aut reperit, aut commentus est. Quasi vero ita magni referat, quis regnum administret, modo publicis commodis reste consulatur.

But it is a shame to remember, for how shameful, how frivolous causes, Christian Princes incite the world to arms. This one either finds, or has fabricated, some obsolete and rotten title. As if indeed it mattered so greatly who administers the kingdom, provided that the public interests be rightly consulted.

Ille causatur omissum, nescio quid, in foedere centum capitum. Hic illi privatim infensus est, ob sponsam interceptam, aut scomma liberius dictum. Et quod est omnium sceleratissimum, sunt qui tyrannica arte, quod populi concordia potestatem suam labefactari sentiant, dissidio stabiliri, subornent qui data opera bellum excitent, quo simul et coniunctos dirimant, et infelicem populum licentius expilent: [X] id procurant scelestissimi quidam, qui populi malis aluntur, et quibus pacis tempore non multum est quod agant in Republica.

That one alleges that some I-know-not-what was omitted in a treaty of one hundred chapters. This man is privately hostile to that man, on account of a fiancée carried off, or a jest spoken too freely. And, what is most criminal of all, there are those who by tyrannical art—since they perceive that their power is undermined by the concord of the people and stabilized by dissension—suborn men who, with deliberate effort, may kindle war, whereby at once they divide those who were conjoined, and more licentiously plunder the unhappy people: [10] this is contrived by certain most-wicked men, who are fed by the evils of the people, and for whom, in a time of peace, there is not much to do in the Republic.

Quae Tartarea furia venenum hoc in pectus Christianum potuit immittere? Quis hanc Tyrannidem docuit Christicolas, quam nec Dionysius ullus, nec Mezentius ullus, nec Phalaris ullus novit? Belluae verius quam homines, et sola tyrannide nobiles, nec usquam cordati nisi ad nocendum, nec umquam concordes, nisi ad opprimendam Rempublicam.

What Tartarean Fury could have injected this poison into the Christian breast? Who taught the Christ-worshippers this Tyranny, which no Dionysius, no Mezentius, no Phalaris ever knew? Beasts rather than men, and noble only by tyranny, nowhere prudent except for harming, never in concord except to oppress the Commonwealth.

Et haec qui gerunt, pro Christianis habentur, audent humano sanguine undique polluti, ad sacras aedes, ad sacras aras accedere. O pestes, in extremas insulas deportandas! Si Christiani corporis unius membra sunt, cur non gratulatur quisque alienae felicitati?

And those who do these things are regarded as Christians; they dare, polluted on every side with human blood, to approach the sacred shrines, the sacred altars. O plagues, to be deported to the farthest islands! If they are members of one Christian body, why does not each man congratulate another’s felicity?

Nunc prope iusta movendi belli causa videtur, regnum finitimum, rebus omnibus paulo florentius. Etenim si verum fateri volumus, quid aliud commovit, et hodie commovet tam multos ad armis lacessendum Franciae regnum, nisi quod est unum omnium florentissimum? Nullum latius patet, nusquam Senatus augustior, nusquam Academia celebrior, nusquam concordea maior, et ob hoc ipsum potestas summa.

Now a nearly just cause for setting war in motion seems to be a neighboring kingdom, somewhat more flourishing in all things. For indeed, if we wish to confess the truth, what else has moved, and today moves, so many to challenge with arms the kingdom of France, except that it is the one most flourishing of all? None extends more widely, nowhere a more august Senate, nowhere a more celebrated Academy, nowhere greater concord, and on account of this very thing the supreme power.

Nusquam aeque florent leges, nusquam illibatior religio, nec Iudaeorum commercio corrupta, velut apud Italos, nec Turcarum aut Maranorum vicinia infecta, quemadmodum apud Hispanos et Hungaros. Germania, ne quid dicam de Bohemis, in tot Regulos dissecta est, ac regni ne species quidem ulla. Sola Francia ceu flos illibatus Christianae ditionis, et velut arx quaedam tutissima, si qua fors tempestas ingruat, tot modis impetitur, tot artibus incessitur, nec ob aliud, nisi cuius gratia conveniebat gratulari, si qua vena Christianae mentis esset in istis.

Nowhere do the laws flourish equally; nowhere is religion more unsullied, nor corrupted by commerce with the Jews, as among the Italians, nor infected by the vicinity of the Turks or the Maranos, as among the Spaniards and Hungarians. Germany—so as to say nothing of the Bohemians—is cut up into so many princelings, and there is not even any semblance of a kingdom. France alone, as the unsullied flower of Christian dominion, and as a certain most secure citadel, should any chance storm come on, is attacked in so many ways, is assailed by so many arts, and for no other cause, save that for which it was fitting to offer congratulations, if there were any vein of Christian spirit in those men.

Atque his tam impiis factis praetexitur titulus pius, sic sternunt viam ad propagandum imperium Christi. O rem monstrosam, parum consultum putant Reipublicae Christianae, nisi pulcerrimam ac felicissimam ditionis Christianae partem subverterint.

And over these so impious deeds a pious title is draped; thus they pave the way for propagating the empire of Christ. O monstrous thing, they think it scant provision for the Christian Republic unless they have subverted the fairest and most fortunate part of the Christian dominion.

Quid quod in his tractandis feras etiam ipsas feritate praecedunt? [XV] Non omnes pugnant belluae, nec ferarum, nisi in diversum genus conflictatio est, quemadmodum et ante diximus, saepius inculcandum, quo magis inhaereat animis. Vipera non mordet viperam, nec lynx lyncem discerpit.

What of the fact that, in handling these matters, they outstrip even the very wild beasts in ferocity? [15] Not all beasts do battle, nor is there conflict among wild creatures unless it is against a different kind, as we also said before—something to be more often inculcated, that it may adhere the more to minds. A viper does not bite a viper, nor does a lynx tear a lynx.

Ac rursum illae cum pugnant, suis pugnant armis, illas armavit natura: homines inermes natos, o Deum immortalem! qualibus armis armat ira? Tartareis machinis impetunt Christiani Christianos.

And again, those, when they fight, fight with their own arms; nature has armed them: men born unarmed, O immortal God! with what arms does anger arm? With Tartarean engines Christians assail Christians.

Quis enim credat bombardas hominis inventum esse? Nec ille tam densis agminibus in mutuum exitium ruunt. Quis umquam vidit decem leones cum decem tauris congredi?

For who would believe that bombards are an invention of man? Nor do they rush in such dense ranks to mutual destruction. Who ever saw ten lions engage with ten bulls?

At quoties viginti millia Christianorum cum totidem Christianis ferro decertant? Tanti est laedere, tanti est haurire sanguinem fratrum. Nec illis fere bellum est, nisi cum fames, aut cura sobolis in rabiem agit.

But how often do twenty thousand Christians with just as many Christians fight it out with iron? So great a thing it is to wound, so great to drain the blood of brothers. Nor do they for the most part have war, unless hunger, or the care for offspring, drives into rabies.

At Christianis quae tam levis iniuria est, ut non videatur idonea bellandi occasio? Si faceret ista plebes, utcumque praetexi poterat inscitia. Si iuvenes, excusari poterat aetatis imperitia.

But for Christians, what injury is so slight that it does not seem a suitable occasion for waging war? If the plebs were doing these things, ignorance could somehow be pleaded as a pretext. If the youths, the inexperience of age could be excused.

Si profani, nonnihil elevaret atrocitatem facti personae qualitas. Nunc ab iis potissimum videmus oriri bellorum semina, quorum consilio moderationeque populi motus componi conveniebat. Contemtum illud et ignobile vulgus condit egregias urbes, conditas civiliter administrat, administrando locupletat.

If they were profane, the quality of the person would somewhat lighten the atrocity of the deed. Now we see the seeds of wars arise most of all from those whose counsel and moderation ought to compose the movements of the people. That despised and ignoble common crowd founds excellent cities, administers those founded civilly, and by administering enriches them.

In has irrepunt satrapae, et ceu fuci, quod aliena partum est industria, surripiunt, et quod a plurimis bene congestum est, a paucis male dissipatur, quod recte conditum, crudelissime diruitur. [XVI] Quod si prisca non meminerunt, repetat qui volet, secum hisce duodecim annis gesta bella, causas expendat, comperiet omnia Principum gratia suscepta, magno populi malo gesta, cum ne tantillum quidem ad populum attineret.

Into these creep satraps, and, like drones, they pilfer what has been brought forth by another’s industry, and what has been well heaped up by very many is ill dissipated by a few, what has been rightly founded is most cruelly demolished. [16] But if they do not remember things of old, let whoever will recall with himself the wars waged in these twelve years, let him weigh the causes; he will find that all were undertaken for the favor of princes, carried out to the great harm of the people, when not even the least whit pertained to the people.

Iam quod olim foedum habebatur apud Ethnicos, caniciem galea premere, ut inquit ille, id apud Christianos laudi ducitur. Turpe senex miles Nasoni, et istis magnifica res est bellator septuagenarius. Imo ne Sacerdotes quidem ipsos pudet, quos olim Deus nec in sanguinaria illa et inclementi lege Moysi, voluit ullo sanguine pollui: non pudet Theologos Christianae vitae magistros, non pudet absolutae religionis Professores, non pudet Episcopos, non pudet Cardinales et Christi Vicarios, eius rei auctores ac faces esse, quam Christus tantopere detestatus est.

Now that which once was held foul among the Pagans—to press gray hairs beneath a helmet, as he says—that among Christians is counted for praise. “An old soldier is a disgrace,” to Naso; and for these men a magnificent thing is a seventy-year-old warrior. Nay, not even the Priests themselves are ashamed—whom God once did not will to be stained with any blood, not even under that bloody and inclement Law of Moses; it does not shame the Theologians, teachers of Christian life; it does not shame the Professors of absolute religion; it does not shame the Bishops; it does not shame the Cardinals and the Vicars of Christ, to be the authors and torches of that matter which Christ so greatly detested.

Qui convenit mitrae et galeae? Quid pedo cum gladio? Quid Evangelico codici cum clypeo?

What concord is there between the miter and the helmet? What has the crozier to do with the sword? What has the Evangelical codex to do with the shield?

Qui convenit pacis omine salutare populum, et orbem ad turbulentissimas pugnas concitare? pacem dare lingua, re bellum immittere? Tun eodem ore quo Christum pacificum praedicas, bellum laudas, eademque tuba Deum canis et Satanam?

How is it consistent to salute the people with the omen of peace, and to incite the world to the most turbulent battles? to give peace with the tongue, but in deed to let loose war? Do you then with the same mouth with which you preach Christ the pacific, praise war, and with the same trumpet sing God and Satan?

Tun apud concionem sacram, cuculla tectus, ad caedem incitas simplicem populum, qui ex ore tuo doctrinam exspectabat Evangelicam? Tun Apostolorum occupans locum, pugnantia doces cum Apostolorum praeceptis? An non vereris, ne quod de Christi praeconibus dictum est; [XVI] Quam speciosi pedes nunciantium pacem, nunciantium bona, nunciantium salutem: in diversum vertatur; Quam foeda lingua Sacerdotum, adhortantium ad bellum, incitantium ad mala, provocantium ad perniciem?

Do you then, in a sacred congregation, cowl-covered, incite the simple people to slaughter, who from your mouth expected Evangelical doctrine? Do you then, occupying the place of the Apostles, teach things that are at odds with the precepts of the Apostles? Are you not afraid lest that which was said of the heralds of Christ; [16] How beautiful the feet of those announcing peace, announcing good things, announcing salvation: be turned into the opposite; How foul the tongue of priests, exhorting to war, inciting to evils, provoking to perdition?

Apud Romanos adhuc impie pios, qui Pontificium Maximum iniret, ex more confirmabat iureiurando, se manus ab omni sanguine puras servaturum, adeo ut ne laesus quidam ulcisceretur. Atque huius sacramenti fidem constanter praestitit Titus Vespasianus, Imperator Ethnicus, idque laudi datur a Scriptore Ethnico. At, o prorsus sublatam e rebus humanis frontem!

Among the Romans, still impiously pious, whoever entered upon the office of Pontifex Maximus, according to custom would confirm by an oath that he would keep his hands pure from all blood, to such a degree that not even if he were injured would he avenge himself. And Titus Vespasian, a pagan Emperor, steadfastly fulfilled the good faith of this sacrament (oath), and this is reckoned to his praise by a pagan writer. But, O, that all sense of shame has been utterly removed from human affairs!

apud Christianos Deo dicati Sacerdotes, et qui his quoque sanctius aliquid prae se ferunt Monachi, ad caedes, ad strages inflammant Principum ac plebis animos. Et Evangelii tubam Martis tubam faciunt, obliti dignitatis suae sursum ac deorsum cursitant, nihil non tum faciunt, tum patiuntur, dum bellum excitent: et per hos Principes alioqui fortassis quieturi, ad pugnam inflammantur, quorum auctoritate tumultuantes sedari conveniebat. Immo quod est prodigiosius, belligerantur ipsi, idque earum rerum gratia, quas et apud impios contemsere Philosophi, quarumque contemtus proprius ac peculiaris est viris Apostolicis.

among Christians, priests dedicated to God, and monks who put before themselves something even more sanctified than these, inflame the minds of princes and of the plebs to slaughters, to massacres. And they make the trumpet of the Gospel a trumpet of Mars; forgetful of their dignity, they run up and down, leaving nothing undone—now doing everything, now suffering everything—while they rouse war: and through these men, princes who otherwise perhaps would have kept quiet are inflamed to fight, by whose authority those making tumults ought to have been calmed. Nay, what is more prodigious, they themselves wage war, and that for the sake of those things which even among the impious the philosophers despised, and whose contempt is proper and peculiar to apostolic men.

[XVII] Ante paucos annos, cum fatali quodam morbo mundus ad arma raperetur, Evangelici praecones, hoc est, Minores ac Dominicani quidam e suggesto sacro classicum canebant, et ultro ad furiam propensos magis accendebant. Apud Britannos animabant in Gallos, apud Gallos animabant in Britannos. Omnes ad bellum instigabant.

[17] A few years ago, when by a certain fatal malady the world was being swept to arms, evangelical heralds—that is, certain Minorites and Dominicans—from the sacred pulpit were sounding the clarion, and of their own accord were further inflaming those already inclined to fury. Among the Britons they were rousing against the Gauls, among the Gauls they were rousing against the Britons. They were inciting all to war.

Ad pacem nemo provocabat, praeter unum aut alterum, quibus pene capitale fuit me vel nominasse. Cursitabant ultro citroque sacrosancti Praesules, et dignitatis et professionis suae obliti, publicum orbis morbum opera sua exacerbantes, tum hinc Iulium Pontificem Romanum, hinc Reges ad maturandum bellum instigantes, perinde quasi non satis ipsi sua sponte insanirent, et tamen hanc manifestariam insaniam magnificis titulis praeteximus. Huc patrum leges, huc piorum hominum scripta, huc arcanae Scripturae verba impudentissime detorquemus, ne dicam impie.

To peace no one was summoning, except one or another, for whom it was almost a capital crime that I even named them. The sacrosanct Prelates were running to and fro, forgetful of both their dignity and their profession, exacerbating by their efforts the public disease of the world, and from this side egging on Julius the Roman Pontiff, from that side the Kings, to mature the war—just as if they themselves were not insane enough of their own accord—and yet we cloak this manifest insanity with magnificent titles. To this end we most impudently twist the laws of the Fathers, the writings of pious men, the words of the arcane Scripture—not to say impiously.

Imo iam eo prope rediit res, ut stultum et impium sit adversus bellum hiscere, et id laudare quod in primis ore Christi laudatum est. Parum consulere populo, parum favere Principi videtur, qui suaserit rem omnium saluberrimam, et ab omnium pestilentissima dehortetur. Iam ipsa castra sequuntur Sacrifici, praesunt in castris Episcopi, et relictis Ecclesiis suis, Bellonae rem agunt.

Nay, the matter has now almost come to this point, that it is foolish and impious to open one’s mouth against war, and to praise that which was above all praised by the mouth of Christ. He seems to consult too little for the people, to favor the Prince too little, who should recommend the most salubrious thing of all and dissuade from the most pestilent of all. Now the very camps are followed by Sacrificers, Bishops preside in the camps, and, their Churches left behind, they do Bellona’s business.

[XVII] Imo gignit iam bellum Sacerdotes, gignit Episcopos, gignit Cardinales, quibus Campi Legatus, honorificus titulus, et Apostolorum successoribus dignus habetur. Quo minus mirum, et Martem spirant, quos Mars genuit. Et quo malum sit insanabilius, tantam impietatem pietatis specie praetexunt.

[17] Nay, war now begets Priests, begets Bishops, begets Cardinals, for whom the Camp‑Legate—an honorific title—is held as worthy even for the successors of the Apostles. Hence it is the less a marvel that those whom Mars begot breathe Mars. And, that the evil may be the more incurable, they pretext so great impiety with the semblance of piety.

Vexilla crucem habent. Miles impius, et nummis aliquot ad lanienam ac caedem conductus, crucis insigne praefert, et belli symbolum est, quod solum dedocere bellum poterat. Quid tibi cum cruce, scelerate miles?

The standards have the cross. The impious soldier, hired for some coins to butchery and slaughter, bears before him the insignia of the cross, and that is the symbol of war, which alone could unteach war. What have you to do with the cross, wicked soldier?

Istis animis, istis factis, dracones, tigrides, ac lupi conveniebant. Istud signum eius est, qui non pugnando, sed moriendo vicit, qui servavit, non perdidit, quodque cum primis admonere te poterat, cum quibus hostibus tibi res sit, si modo Christianus es, et qua ratione vincendum sit. Tu salutis insigne gestas, ad fratris perniciem properans, et cruce perdis eum, qui cruce servatus est?

With such spirits, with such deeds, dragons, tigers, and wolves were fitting. That sign is of him who conquered not by fighting but by dying, who saved, not lost, and which especially could admonish you with what enemies you have to do—if only you are a Christian—and by what method victory is to be won. You bear the insignia of salvation, hastening to a brother’s perdition, and with the cross do you destroy him who was saved by the cross?

Quid quod ab arcanis illis et adorandis sacris, nain haec quoque pertrahuntur in castra, in quibus inprimis summa Christianorum concordia repraesentatur, curritur in aciem, dirum ferrum in fratris viscera stringitur, et facinoris omnium sceleratissimi, quo non aliud esse potest impiis spiritibus gratius, Christum faciunt spectatorem, si tamen illic dignatur adesse Christus. [XVIII] Denique quod est omnium absurdissimum, in utrisque castris, in utraque acie crucis signum relucet, in utrisque sacra peraguntur. Quid hoc monstri est?

What of the fact that from those arcane and to-be-adored sacred rites—for these too are dragged into the camps, in which above all the highest concord of Christians is represented—they rush into the battle-line, the dire steel is drawn into a brother’s entrails, and, in the crime most wicked of all, than which nothing can be more pleasing to impious spirits, they make Christ a spectator—if indeed Christ deigns to be present there? [18] Finally, what is most absurd of all, in both camps, in both battle-lines the sign of the cross re-shines, in both the sacred rites are performed. What monstrosity is this?

pugnat crux cum cruce, Christus adversus Christum belligeratur? Hoc signum Christiani nominis hostes terrere solet. Cur nunc oppugnant, quod adorant?

Does the cross fight with the cross; is Christ waging war against Christ? This sign is wont to terrify the enemies of the Christian name. Why do they now attack what they adore?

homines non una digni cruce, sed vera. Quaeso, quid in hisce sacris orat miles, Pater noster? Os durum, audes eum appellare Patrem, qui fratris tui iugulum petis?

men worthy not of a single cross, but of the true one. I ask, what does the soldier pray in these sacred rites, “Our Father”? Hard mouth, do you dare to call him Father, you who seek your brother’s jugular?

Sanctificetur nomen tuum. Qui magis dehonestari poterat nomen Dei, quam istiusmodi inter vos tumultibus? Adveniat regnum tuum.

May your name be sanctified. How could the name of God be more dishonored than by tumults of this kind among you? May your kingdom come.

Sic oras, qui tanto sanguine tyrannidem tuam moliris? Fiat voluntas tua, quemadmodum in coelo, ita et in terra. Pacem vult ille, et tu bellum paras?

Thus you pray, you who contrive your tyranny with so much bloodshed? May your will be done, as in heaven, so also on earth. He wills peace, and you prepare war?

Panem quotidianum a communi Patre petis, qui fraternas exuris segetes, et tibi quoque mavis perire, quam illi prodesse? Iam quonam ore dices illud? Et dimitte nobis debita nostra, sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris, qui ad parricidium festinas?

Do you ask for daily bread from the common Father, you who burn up your brothers’ grain-fields, and prefer even to perish yourself rather than to benefit him? With what mouth will you say that now? And forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors, you who are hastening to parricide?

Deprecaris periculum tentationis, qui tuo periculo fratrem in periculum pertrahis? A malo liberari postulas, cuius instinctu summum malum fratri machinaris?

Do you deprecate the peril of temptation, you who, to your own peril, drag your brother into peril? Do you petition to be delivered from evil, at whose instigation you machinate the highest evil for your brother?

Plato negat appellandum bellum, quod Graeci moveant adversus Graecos. Seditio est, inquit. [XVIII] Et istis sanctum etiam bellum est, quod ob quamlibet causam tali milite, talibus armis cum Christiano gerit Christianus?

Plato denies that it should be called war, what the Greeks move against Greeks. “It is sedition,” he says. [18] And for such people, is even that a holy war, which, for whatever cause, a Christian wages against a Christian with such soldiery and such arms?

Ethnicorum leges, culeo insutum in profluentem abiiciunt, qui ferrum fraterno sanguine imbuerit. An minus fratres sunt, quos Christus copulavit, quam quos sanguinis propinquitas? Et tamen hic praemium est parricidio.

The laws of the pagans cast, sewn into a sack, into the flowing current the man who has steeped iron with a brother’s blood. Are they less brothers whom Christ has coupled than those whom the propinquity of blood has made such? And yet here parricide has a reward.

O miseram bellantium sortem. Qui vincit, parricida est: qui vincitur, perit, nihilo secius parricidio obnoxius, quod parricidium conatus est. Et post haec exsecrantur Turcas velut impios, et a Christo alienos, quasi vero cum haec agunt, ipsi Christiani sint, aut quasi Turcis ullum spectaculum exhiberi possit iucundius, quam si conspiciant illos mutuis telis sese confodientes.

O the wretched lot of belligerents. He who conquers is a parricide; he who is conquered perishes, nonetheless no less liable to parricide, because he attempted parricide. And after this they execrate the Turks as impious and alien to Christ, as though, when they do these things, they themselves were Christians, or as though any spectacle could be more pleasing to the Turks than if they behold them stabbing one another with mutual weapons.

Immolant, ut aiunt, Turcae Daemonibus, at cum his nulla victima sit acceptior, quam si Christianus mactet Christianum, quaeso, quid aliud facis quam illi? Tum enim gemina fruuntur hostia spiritus impii, cum pariter et qui mactat, et qui mactatur fit victima. Si quis Turcis favet, si quis amicus est Daemonibus, hostias huiusmodi frequenter offerat.

They say the Turks immolate to Demons; but since no victim is more acceptable to them than that a Christian immolate a Christian, I ask, what else are you doing than they? For then the impious spirits enjoy a double victim, when at once both he who slaughters and he who is slaughtered becomes a victim. If anyone favors the Turks, if anyone is a friend to Demons, let him frequently offer victims of this kind.

Sed audio iam dudum, quid excusent homines in suum ipsorum malum ingeniosi. Cogi se queruntur, et invitos ad bellum pertrahi. Detrahe personam istam, abiice fucos, tuum ipsius pectus consule, reperies iram, ambitionem, stultitiam huc pertraxisse, non necessitatem.

But I have long been hearing what men, ingenious to their own harm, put forward in excuse. They complain that they are compelled and dragged to war against their will. Strip off that persona, cast away the pretenses; consult your very own breast, and you will find that anger, ambition, and folly have dragged you hither, not necessity.

Nisi forte hac fini necessitatem metiris, si non per omnia satis fiat animo. [XIX] Ad populum phaleras, Deus fucis non deluditur. Atque interea solennes aguntur supplicationes, magnis clamoribus petitur pax, vociferantur immani boatu, ut pacem nobis dones, te rogamus, audi nos.

Unless perhaps you measure necessity by this boundary, namely, if the spirit is not satisfied in all things. [19] Trappings for the people; God is not deluded by paints and pretenses. And meanwhile solemn supplications are performed, peace is sought with great clamors, they vociferate with immense bellowing, that you grant peace to us, we beg you, hear us.

Nonne iure optimo Deus istis responderit: Quid me ridetis? Rogatis ut depellam, quod ipsi vobis accersitis volentes? Deprecamini, cuius ipsi vobis estis auctores.

Would not God, with the best right, answer these: Why do you mock me? You ask that I drive away what you yourselves willingly summon to yourselves? You deprecate that of which you yourselves are the authors.

Si quaelibet offensa bellum parit, cui tandem non est quod queratur? Inter uxorem et maritum incidunt ad quae sit connivendum, nisi malis dirimi benevolentiam. Quod si quid eiusmodi sit ortum inter Principes, quid opus erat mox ad arma rapi?

If any offense whatsoever begets war, who then is there that has not something to complain of? Between wife and husband there occur matters at which one ought to connive, unless you prefer benevolence to be dissolved. But if anything of this sort has arisen among Princes, what need was there straightway to snatch up arms?

Sunt leges, sunt hommes eruditi, sunt venerandi Abbates, sunt reverendi Episcopi, quorum salubri consilio tumultus rerum componi poterat. Cur non hos potius arbitros faciunt, quos haud possint tam iniquos nancisci, quin minore malo discessuri sint, quam si armis experiantur? Vix ulla tam iniqua pax, quin bello vel aequissimo sit potior.

There are laws, there are erudite men, there are venerable Abbots, there are reverend Bishops, by whose salutary counsel the tumult of affairs could be composed. Why do they not rather make these arbiters, whom they could hardly find so iniquitous that they would not depart with a lesser evil than if they make trial by arms? Scarcely any peace is so unjust but that it is preferable to war, even the most equitable.

Prius expende singula, quae bellum vel postulat, vel adducit, et quantum lucri feceris intelliges. Summa est Romani Pontificis auctoritas. Ast cum Gentes, cum Principes impiis bellis tumultuantur, idque annos aliquot, ubi tum Pontificum auctoritas, ubi potestas Christo proxima?

First weigh each particular which war either demands or brings on, and you will understand how much gain you will have made. The authority of the Roman Pontiff is supreme. But when Nations, when Princes, are in tumult with impious wars, and that for several years, where then is the authority of the Pontiffs, where the power nearest to Christ?

[XIX] Hic certe erat expromenda, nisi ipsi similibus tenerentur cupiditatibus. Vocat Pontifex ad bellum, paretur. Vocat idem ad pacem, cur non obtemperatur itidem?

[19] Here surely it ought to have been brought forth, unless they themselves were held by similar cupidities. The Pontiff calls to war—let obedience be rendered. The same calls to peace—why is obedience not likewise rendered?

Si pacem malunt, cur Iulio bellandi auctori tam alacriter obeditum est, Leoni ad pacem et concordiam provocanti vix quisquam obtemperat? Si vere sacrosancta est Romani Pontificis auctoritas, certe maxime valere par est, quoties ad id provocat, quod unice docuit Christus. Caeterum quos Iulius ad bellum exitiale potuit excitare, cum Leo sanctissimus Pontifex non idem possit, tot modis ad Christianam concordiam provocans, declarant sese, Ecclesiae praetextu, suis servisse cupiditatibus, ne quid dicam acerbius.

If they prefer peace, why was Julius, the author of waging war, obeyed so eagerly, while scarcely anyone obeys Leo when he calls to peace and concord? If the authority of the Roman Pontiff is truly sacrosanct, surely it ought to be most potent whenever he provokes an appeal to that which Christ uniquely taught. Moreover, those whom Julius could rouse to a deadly war—while Leo, the most holy Pontiff, cannot do the same, though he summons in so many ways to Christian concord—declare themselves, under the pretext of the Church, to have served their own desires, lest I say anything more harsh.

Si ex animo taedet bellorum, dabo consilium, quo concordiam tueri possitis. Solida pax haud constat affinitatibus, haud foederibus hominum, ex quibus frequenter exoriri bella videmus. Repurgandi fontes ipsi, unde malum hoc scatet, pravae cupiditates tumultus istos pariunt.

If from the heart you are weary of wars, I will give counsel by which you may be able to guard concord. Solid peace does not consist in affinities, nor in the treaties of men, from which we frequently see wars arise. The very springs themselves must be cleansed, whence this evil gushes forth: perverse cupidities beget these tumults.

Et dum quisque suis inservit adfectibus, interim affligitur Respublica, nec tamen adsequitur hoc ipsum quisque, quod malis rationibus adfectat. Sapiant Principes, et populo sapiant, non sibi, ac vere sapiant, ut maiestatem suam, ut felicitatem, ut opes, ut splendorem his rebus metiantur, quae vere magnos et excellentes faciunt. Sint eo animo erga Rempublicam, quo pater erga familiam.

And while each person is in service to his own affections, meanwhile the Commonwealth is afflicted, nor yet does each one attain this very thing which he aims at by evil means. Let Princes be wise, and be wise for the people, not for themselves; and let them be truly wise, so that they may measure their majesty, their felicity, their wealth, their splendor by those things which truly make men great and excellent. Let them be of that mind toward the Commonwealth which a father is toward his family.

Ita se magnum existimet Rex, si quam optimis imperet: ita felicem, si suos felices reddiderit: [XX] ita sublimem, si quam maxime liberis imperet: ita opulentum, si populum habeat opulentum: ita florentem, si civitates perpetua pace florentes habeat. Atque hunc Principes animum imitentur Proceres ac Magistratus. Omnia Reipublicae commodis metiantur, et hac via rectius suis consuluerint commodis.

Thus let the King esteem himself great, if he rules the best men; thus happy, if he has made his own subjects happy; [20] thus exalted, if he rules men as free as possible; thus opulent, if he has an opulent people; thus flourishing, if he has cities flourishing in perpetual peace. And let the Nobles and the Magistrates imitate this spirit of the Princes. Let them measure everything by the advantages of the Republic, and by this road they will have more rightly looked to their own interests.

Rex qui hoc sit animo, num is facile commovebitur, ut pecuniam a suis extorqueat, quam Barbaro militi numeret? Suos ad famam adiget, ut impios aliquot Duces ditet? Num is suorum vitam tot periculis obiiciet?

A king who is of this mind—will he be easily stirred to extort money from his own people, to pay it to the Barbarian soldier? Will he drive his own into hunger, so that he may enrich some impious dukes? Will he expose the life of his people to so many dangers?

Non, opinor. Hactenus exerceat imperium, ut meminerit se hominem imperare hominibus, liberum liberis, postremo Christianum Christianis. Huic vicissim tantum deferat populus, quatenus ad publicam utilitatem conducit.

No, I suppose. Thus far let him exercise authority: that he remember that he, a man, commands men; a free man, free men; finally, a Christian, Christians. To this one in turn let the people defer only so far as it conduces to the public utility.

Non aliud exiget bonus Princeps. Mali vero cupiditates retundet civium consensus. Adsit utrimque privati commodi ratio.

A good Prince will require nothing else. But the consensus of the citizens will blunt the cupidity of the wicked. Let consideration of private profit be present on both sides.

Plurimum honoris habeatur iis, qui bellum excluserint, qui concordiam restituerint ingenio consiliove suo. Denique qui hoc modis omnibus moliatur, non ut maximam militum ac machinarum vim comparet, sed ut iis non sit opus. Quod pulcerrimum facinus, tot Imperatorum unus Diocletianus animo concepisse legitur.

Let the greatest honor be had for those who have excluded war, who have restored concord by their ingenuity and counsel. Finally, let him endeavor this by every method, not in order to assemble the greatest force of soldiers and machines, but that there be no need of them. Which most beautiful deed, among so many Emperors, only Diocletian is recorded to have conceived in mind.

Quod si bellum vitari non potest, ita geratur, ut summa malorum in eorum capita recidat, qui belli dedere causas. Nunc Principes tuti belligerantur, [XX] ductores hinc crescunt, maxima malorum pars in agricolas ac plebem effunditur, ad quos nec attinet bellum, nec ipsi belli causam ullam dederunt. Ubi Principis sapientia, si haec non perpendit?

But if war cannot be avoided, let it be so waged that the sum of the evils fall back upon the heads of those who have given the causes of the war. Now Princes war in safety, [20] commanders arise hence, the greatest part of the evils is poured out upon the farmers and the plebs, to whom the war does not pertain, nor have they themselves given any cause of the war. Where is the Prince’s wisdom, if it does not weigh these things?

ubi Principis animus, si haec levia ducit? Invenienda ratio, qua fiat ne toties mutentur, ac velut obambulent imperia, quod omnis rerum novatio tumultum gignat, tumultus bellum. Id facile fiet, si Regum liberi intra ditionis fines elocentur, aut si quem libeat finitimis adiungere, spes omnibus successionis praecisa esto.

where is the spirit of the Prince, if he deems these things trivial? A plan must be found, by which it may come about that empires not so often be changed, and, as it were, wander to and fro; since every innovation of affairs begets tumult, and tumult begets war. This will be done easily, if the children of kings are settled within the borders of the dominion, or, if it be pleasing to attach someone to the neighbors, let the hope of succession be cut off for all.

Nec fas sit Principi ditionis portionem ullam vendere aut alienare, perinde quasi privata sint praedia, liberae civitates. Nam liberae sunt quibus Rex imperat, serviunt quos Tyrannus premit. Nunc huiusmodi matrimoniorum vicibus fit, ut apud Hibernos natus, repente imperet Indis, aut qui modo Syris imperabat, subito Rex sit Italiae.

Nor let it be lawful for a Prince to sell or alienate any portion of the dominion, as though free cities were private estates. For they are free whom a King commands; they are in servitude whom a Tyrant presses. Now by the turnings of marriages of this kind it comes about that one born among the Hibernians suddenly commands the Indians, or he who just now was commanding the Syrians is suddenly King of Italy.

Fitque ut neutra regio Principem habeat, dum priorem relinquit, et a posteriore non agnoscitur, nimirum ignotus, alioque mundo natus. Atque interim dum illud parit, dum evincit, dum stabilit, alterum exhaurit proteritque, nonnumquam amittit utrumque, dum utrumque complecti studet, vix alteri administrando idoneus. Semel inter Principes conveniat, quid quisque debeat administrare, ac ditionis fines semel datos, nulla proferat aut contrahat affinitas, nulla convellant foedera.

And it comes about that neither region has a Prince, while he leaves the former and is not acknowledged by the latter—plainly unknown, and born in another world. And meanwhile, while he brings that one to birth, while he overcomes it, while he stabilizes it, he drains and tramples the other; sometimes he loses both, while he strives to embrace both, scarcely fit to administer even one. Let it once be agreed among Princes what each ought to administer, and let no affinity extend or contract the bounds of dominion once assigned, let no treaties tear them up.

[XXI] Ita suam quisque portionem enitetur quam potest ornatissimam reddere: dum in unam omne studium intendet, hanc conabitur rebus optimis locupletatam suis liberis relinquere. Atque hoc sane pacto futurum est, ut ubique floreant omnia. Caeterum inter sese, non affinitatibus, aut factitiis sodalitatibus, sed sincera puraque amicitia copulentur, maximeque simili communique studio bene merendi de rebus humanis.

[21] Thus let each strive to render his own portion as most ornate as he can: while he directs all zeal to the one, he will endeavor to leave this, enriched with the best things, to his children. And indeed in this very way it will come about that everywhere all things flourish. Moreover, among themselves, let them be joined not by affinities or factitious sodalities, but by sincere and pure amity, and most of all by a similar and common zeal to deserve well of human affairs.

Principi vero succedat, vel qui genere proximus, vel qui populi suffragiis maxime iudicabitur idoneus. Caeteris sat sit, inter honestos haberi Proceres.

But let him succeed to the Prince who is either nearest in lineage, or who by the suffrages of the people shall be judged most suitable. For the others, let it be enough to be counted among the honorable Peers.

Regium est nescire privatos adfectus, et omnia publicis commodis aestimare. Adhaec longinquas peregrinationes vitet Princeps, imo pomoeria regni numquam transire velit, memineritque dicti longo seculorum consensu probati, Frons occipitio prior est. Locupletatum se existimet, non si quid aliis ademerit, sed si sua reddiderit meliora.

It is regal not to know private affections, and to estimate all things by public advantages. Moreover, let the Prince avoid long peregrinations—nay, let him wish never to cross the pomeria of the realm—and let him remember the saying approved by the long consensus of ages: the forehead is prior to the occiput. Let him deem himself enriched, not if he has taken anything from others, but if he has rendered his own things better.

Cum de bello agitur, ne adhibeat in consilium iuvenes, quibus ideo bellum placet, quod experti non sunt quantum habeat malorum: neve eos, quibus expedit turbari publicam tranquillitatem, [XXI] quique populi calamitatibus aluntur, ac saginantur: senes cordatos et integros accersat, et quorum pietas patriae spectata sit. Nec temere ad unius aut alterius libidinem bellum moveat, quod semel coeptum, haud facile finitur. Res omnium periculosissima, non nisi totius populi consensu suscipiatur.

When it is a matter of war, let him not bring into counsel youths, to whom therefore war is pleasing because they have not experienced how many evils it contains; nor those for whom it is expedient that public tranquility be disturbed, [21] and who are nourished and fattened on the people’s calamities; let him summon old men, sober‑minded and men of integrity, and those whose piety toward the fatherland has been proven. Nor let him rashly set war in motion at the desire of one or another, for once begun, it is not easily finished. The most perilous affair of all should be undertaken only with the consent of the whole people.

Belli causae statim praecidendae sunt. Ad quaedam connivendum, comitas comitatem invitabit. Nonnumquam emenda pax.

The causes of war are to be cut off at once. In certain matters, one must connive; comity will invite comity. Sometimes peace is to be purchased.

Ea si ratione subduxeris, quid bellum fuerit exhausturum, et quot cives ab exitio serves, parvo empta videbitur, etiamsi magno emeris, quando praeter civium tuorum sanguinem, plus erat bello impendendum. Ineas rationem, quantum malorum vitaris, quantum bonorum tuearis, et impendii non poenitebit.

If by that reckoning you compute what war would be going to exhaust, and how many citizens you save from destruction, it will seem bought for a small price, even if you buy it at a great one, since, besides the blood of your citizens, more was to be expended on war. Enter into an account of how many evils you avoid, how many goods you safeguard, and you will not repent of the expenditure.

Fungantur interim suo officio Praesules, Sacerdotes vere sint Sacerdotes, Monachi professionis suae meminerint, Theologi quod Christo dignum est, doceant. Conspirent omnes adversus bellum, in hoc latrent omnes. Pacem publice privatimque praedicent, efferant, inculcent.

In the meantime let the Prelates discharge their own office, let Priests truly be Priests, let Monks remember their profession, let Theologians teach what is worthy of Christ. Let all conspire against war, at this let all bark. Let them preach peace publicly and privately, extol it, inculcate it.

Tum si minus possint efficere, ne ferro decernatur, certe ne probent, ne intersint, ne rei vel tam sceleratae, vel certe tam suspectae, ipsis auctoribus, honos habeatur. Satis sit in bello caesis, in profano sepulcrum dari. Si qui boni sunt in hoc genere, qui certe paucissimi sunt, non ob haec fraudabuntur suo praemio.

Then, if they should be less able to effect that the issue not be decided by iron, at least let them not approve, let them not be present, lest honor be shown to the very authors of a deed either so criminal, or at least so suspect. Let it suffice that to those slain in war a sepulcher be given in profane ground. If there are any good men in this kind, who certainly are very few, they will not on account of these things be defrauded of their own reward.

[XXII] Caeterum impii, quae maxima turba est, minus sibi placebunt, honore detracto. De his bellis loquor, quae vulgo Christiani cum Christianis, levibus aut iniustis de causis committunt. Nec enim idem sentio de his, qui simplici pioque studio vim incursantium Barbarorum depellunt, et suo periculo publicam tranquillitatem tuentur.

[22] However, the impious, who are the greatest throng, will be less pleased with themselves, the honor taken away. I speak of those wars which Christians commonly wage against Christians, for light or unjust causes. For I do not feel the same about those who, with simple and pious zeal, drive off the force of invading Barbarians, and at their own peril safeguard the public tranquility.

Nunc trophaea sanguine tincta eorum pro quorum salute Christus suum fudit sanguinem, reponuntur in templis, inter Apostolorum ac Martyrum statuas, quasi posthac pium sit futurum, non fieri Martyres, sed facere. Abunde magnum erat, haec in foro, aut armario quopiam reposita servari: in sacras aedes, quas purissimas esse decet, nihil recipi convenit, quod sanguine sit inquinatum. Sed antiquitas in templis reponebat victoriae monumenta.

Now trophies tinged with the blood of those for whose salvation Christ poured out his own blood are being set in temples, among the statues of the Apostles and Martyrs, as if henceforth it would be pious not to be made Martyrs, but to make them. It was abundantly great enough that these be kept, laid up in the forum or stored in some cabinet; into sacred edifices, which it befits to be most pure, it is not fitting that anything be admitted which is defiled with blood. But antiquity used to set up monuments of victory in temples.

Verum, sed in quibus sacrificabatur Daemonibus, non Deo.

True, but in which sacrifices were offered to Demons, not to God.

Sacerdotes Deo sacri nusquam adsint, nisi ad dirimenda bella. In haec si consentiant, si eadem ubique inculcent, plurimum habitura momenti est concors auctoritas. Quod si hic fatalis est humani ingenii morbus, ut prorsus absque bellis durare nequeat, quin potius malum hoc in Turcas effunditur?

Let priests sacred to God be present nowhere, except for the diriment of wars. If they consent to these things, if they inculcate the same everywhere, a concordant authority will have very much of moment. But if this is a fatal disease of the human ingenium (disposition), so that it cannot endure altogether without wars, why is not this evil rather poured out upon the Turks?

Tametsi praestabat et hos doctrina, bene factis, vitaeque innocentia, ad Christi religionem allicere, quam armis adoriri. Attamen si bellum, ut diximus, omnino vitari non potest, illud certe levius sit malum, quam sic impie Christianos inter se committi, collidique. Si mutua caritas illos non adglutinat, certe coniunget utcumque communis hostis, et qualiscumque syncretismus erit, [XXII] ut absit vera concordia.

Although it was preferable to allure these men to the religion of Christ by doctrine, good deeds, and innocence of life, rather than to assail them with arms. Yet if war, as we have said, cannot be wholly avoided, let that certainly be the lighter evil than that Christians be impiously set one against another and made to collide. If mutual charity does not agglutinate them, surely a common enemy will somehow conjoin them, and there will be a syncretism of whatever sort, [22] albeit true concord be absent.

Postremo magna pars pacis est, ex animo velle pacem. Quibus enim pax vere cordi est, hi omnes pacis occasiones arripiunt: quae obstant, aut negligunt, aut amoliuntur, permulta ferunt, dum tantum bonum sit incolume. Nunc ipsi bellorum seminaria quaerunt: quod ad concordiam facit, elevant, aut dissimulant etiam: quod ad bellum tendit, ultro exaggerant, exulcerantque.

Finally, a great part of peace is to will peace from the heart. For those to whom peace is truly at heart seize all occasions of peace; what stands in the way they either neglect or remove, they endure very many things, so long as so great a good remains unharmed. Now they themselves seek the seedbeds of wars; what makes for concord they make light of, or even dissimulate; what tends toward war they of their own accord exaggerate and exulcerate.

Pudet referre, ex cuiusmodi nugis, quantas excitent tragoedias, et ex quam minuta scintillula, quae rerum tempestates exoriantur. Tunc illud iniuriarum agmen venit in mentem, et suum quisque malum sibi exaggerat. At benefactorum interim profunda oblivio, ut iures adfectari bellum.

It shames one to recount from what sort of trifles how great tragedies they rouse, and from how minute a scintilla what tempests of affairs arise. Then that train of injuries comes to mind, and each one exaggerates his own hurt to himself. But meanwhile there is a profound oblivion of benefactions, so that you would swear war is being courted.

Et saepe Principum privatum quiddam est, quod orbem ad arma compellit. At plus quam publicum esse debet, ob quod bellum suscipiatur. Quin ubi nihil subest causae, ipsi dissidiorum causas sibi fingunt, regionum vocabulis ad odiorum alimoniam abutentes: et hunc stultae plebis errorem alunt Magnates, et in suum abutuntur compendium, alunt Sacerdotes quidam.

And often it is some private matter of Princes that compels the world to arms. Yet it ought to be something more than public, on account of which war is undertaken. Indeed, when no cause underlies, they themselves fashion causes of dissensions for themselves, abusing the names of regions for the sustenance of hatreds: and the Magnates nourish this error of the foolish plebs, and abuse it to their own profit; certain Priests nourish it.

Anglus hostis est Gallo, nec ob aliud, nisi quod Gallus est. Scoto Britannus infensus est, nec aliam ob rem, nisi quod Scotus est. Germanus cum Franco dissidet, Hispanus cum utroque.

The Anglo is an enemy to the Gaul, and for no other reason except that he is a Gaul. The Briton is hostile to the Scot, and for no other reason except that he is a Scot. The German is at variance with the Frank, the Spaniard with both.

[XXIII] O pravitatem, disiungit inane loci vocabulum, cur non potius tot res conciliant? Male vis Britannus Gallo. Cur non potius bene vis homo homini?

[23] O pravity, an empty place-name disjoins—why do so many things not rather conciliate? The Briton wishes ill to the Gaul. Why not rather does man wish well to man?

Christianus Christiano? Cur res frivola plus apud istos potest, quam tot naturae nexus? tot Christi vincula?

A Christian against a Christian? Why does a frivolous matter have more power among those men than so many nexuses of nature? so many bonds of Christ?

Locus corpora dirimit, non animos. Separabat olim Rhenus Gallum a Germano, at Rhenus non separat Christianum a Christiano. Pyrenaei montes Hispanos a Gallis seiungunt, at iidem non dirimunt Ecclesiae communionem.

Place divides bodies, not spirits. The Rhine once separated the Gaul from the German, but the Rhine does not separate Christian from Christian. The Pyrenean mountains disjoin the Spaniards from the Gauls, but those same do not sunder the communion of the Church.

Mare dirimit Anglos a Gallis, at non dirimit religionis societatem. Paulus Apostolus indignatur audire inter Christianos has voces: Ego sum Apollo, ego sum Cephae, ego sum Pauli, nec impia cognomina sinit secare Christum omnia conciliantem: et nos commune patriae vocabulum gravem causam iudicamus, cur gens in gentis internecionem tendat? Ne id quidem satis nonnullorum animis bellorum avidis, prave dataque opera dissidiorum ansas quaerunt, ipsam dividunt Galliam, et ea vocabulis distrahunt, quae nec maria, nec montes, nec vera regionum nomina distrahunt.

The sea separates the English from the Gauls, but it does not separate the society of religion. Paul the Apostle is indignant to hear among Christians these voices: I am of Apollo, I am of Cephas, I am of Paul; nor does he permit impious cognomina to cut asunder Christ, the One conciliating all things: and we judge the common appellation of fatherland a grave cause why a nation should aim at the extermination of a nation? Not even that is enough for the minds of certain men, eager for wars; perversely, and with deliberate effort, they seek handles of dissensions, they divide Gaul itself, and they tear it apart by vocables which neither seas, nor mountains, nor the true names of regions tear asunder.

E Gallis Germanos faciunt, ne vel nominis consortio coalescat amicitia. Si in actionibus odiosis, velut divortii, nec litem facile recipit iudex, nec quamlibet admittit probationem, cur isti in re omnium odiosissima quamlibet frivolam causam admittunt? Quin potius id quod res est cogitant, [XXIII] mundum hunc communem esse patriam omnium, si patriae titulus conciliat: ab iisdem maioribus ortos omnes, si facit amicos sanguinis affinitas: Ecclesiam unam esse familiam, ex aequo communem omnibus, si domuss eadem copulat necessitudines, in hanc partem ingeniosos esse par est.

They make Germans out of Gauls, so that not even a consortium of the name may coalesce into friendship. If in odious actions, as of divorce, neither does the judge easily receive the lawsuit, nor does he admit just any probation, why do these men, in the matter most odious of all, admit any frivolous cause? Nay rather, let them think what the case truly is, [23] that this world is the common patria of all, if the title of fatherland conciliates; that all are sprung from the same ancestors, if an affinity of blood makes friends; that the Church is one family, equally common to all, if the same house couples the ties of kinship—on this side it is meet to be ingenious.

Toleras quaedam in socero, non ob aliud nisi quod socer est: et nihil toleras in eo, qui religionis consortio frater est? Multa condonas generis propinquitati, et nihil condonas affinitati religionis? Certe nullum vinculum arctius alligat, quam Christi sodalitas.

You tolerate certain things in a father-in-law, for no other reason than that he is a father-in-law; and you tolerate nothing in him who is a brother by the consortium of religion? You condone many things to the propinquity of lineage, and you condone nothing to the affinity of religion? Surely no bond binds more tightly than the sodality of Christ.

Cur id solum ob oculos obversatur, quod animum exulcerat? Si paci faves, sic cogita potius, in hoc laesit, sed saepe alias profuit, aut alieno impulsu laesit. Postremo, quemadmodum apud Homerum dissidii causas, quod inter Agamemnonem et Achillem intercesserat, in Aten Deam reiiciunt, qui vocant ad concordiam: ita quae excusari non possunt, aliquando fatis imputentur, aut malo cuipiam, si libet, Genio, et in haec odium ab ipsis hominibus transferatur.

Why is that alone ever before your eyes which exulcerates the mind? If you favor peace, consider rather thus: in this he injured, but often otherwise he has profited, or he injured by another’s impulse. Lastly, just as in Homer those who call for concord cast the causes of the dissension that had intervened between Agamemnon and Achilles onto the Goddess Ate, so let the things that cannot be excused sometimes be imputed to the Fates, or, if you please, to some evil Genius, and let the hatred be transferred onto these, away from the men themselves.

Cur magis ad perniciem suam sapiunt, quam ad tuendam felicitatem? Cur ad malum, quam ad bonum sunt oculatiores? Qui paulo cordatiores sunt, expendunt, considerant, circumspiciunt, priusquam privatum quoque negotium aggrediantur.

Why are they more wise toward their own perdition than toward safeguarding felicity? Why are they more sharp-eyed for evil than for good? Those who are a little more prudent weigh, consider, and look around before they even undertake a private business.

Et clausis oculis praecipites in bellum ipsi sese coniiciunt, praesertim cum semel admissum, [XXI] excludi non possit, quin e pusillo fit maximum, ex uno plura, ex incruento cruentum, maxime cum haec procella non unum aut alterum adfligat, sed universos pariter involvat. Quod si vulgus haec parum expendit, certe Principis et Optimatum partes sunt, haec secum reputare. Sacerdotum est ista rationibus omnibus infulcire, volentibus ac nolentibus ingerere.

And with eyes closed they themselves hurl themselves headlong into war, especially since, once admitted, [21] it cannot be excluded, but from a very small it becomes a very great thing, from one come more, from bloodless bloody—most of all since this tempest does not afflict one or another, but involves all alike. But if the common crowd weighs these matters too little, surely it is the part of the Prince and the Optimates to reckon these things with themselves. It is the priests’ task to buttress those points by every argument, to thrust them upon the willing and the unwilling.

Haerebunt tandem si nusquam non audiantur.

They will adhere at length, if they are heard everywhere.

Ad bellum gestis? primum inspice, cuiusmodi res sit pax, cuiusmodi bellum, quid illa bonorum, quid hoc malorum secum vehat, atque ita rationem ineas, num expediat pacem bello permutare. Si res quaedam admirabilis est, regnum undique rebus optimis florens, bene conditis urbibus, bene cultis agris, optimis legibus, honestissimis disciplinis, sanctissimis moribus: cogita tecum, haec felicitas mihi perturbanda est, si bello.

Are you eager for war? first inspect of what sort a thing peace is, of what sort war is, what that carries with it of goods, what this of evils, and thus enter upon a reckoning whether it is expedient to exchange peace for war. If the situation is something admirable, a kingdom flourishing on every side with the best things, with cities well founded, fields well cultivated, the best laws, the most honorable disciplines, the most sacred morals: consider with yourself, this felicity is to be disturbed by me, if by war.

Contra, si quando conspexisti ruinas urbium, dirutos vicos, exusta fana, desolatos agros, et id spectaculum miserandum, ut est, visum est, cogita hunc esse belli fructum. Si grave iudicas sceleratam conductitiorum militum colluviem in tuam regionem inducere, hos civium tuorum malo alere, his inservire, [XXIV] his blandiri, immo horum arbitrio te ipsum ac tuam incolumitatem committere: fac cogites hanc esse belli conditionem. Si abominaris latrocinia, haec docet bellum: si exsecraris parricidium, hoc in bello discitur.

On the contrary, if ever you have beheld the ruins of cities, villages torn down, shrines burned, fields desolated, and that spectacle—piteous as it is—has met your sight, reckon this to be the fruit of war. If you judge it grievous to lead into your region the wicked rabble of conductitious mercenary soldiers, to feed these men to the harm of your citizens, to serve them, [24] to flatter them, nay to commit yourself and your safety to their discretion: make sure you consider this to be the condition of war. If you abominate latrociny, this is what war teaches; if you execrate parricide, this is learned in war.

Nam qui vereatur unum occidere commotus, qui levi auctoramento conductus tot homines iugulat? Si praesentissima Reipublicae pestis est, legum neglectus, silent leges inter arma. Si foedum existimas stuprum, incestum, et his turpiora, horum omnium bellum magister est.

For he who would fear to kill one person when provoked—how is it that, hired for a slight bounty, he slaughters so many men? If the most immediate plague of the Republic is the neglect of the laws, the laws fall silent amid arms. If you deem rape, incest, and things more shameful than these to be foul, of all these war is the teacher.

Si fons omnium malorum est impietas, et religionis neglectus, haec belli procellis prorsus obruitur. Si iudicas pessimum esse Reipublicae statum, cum plurimum possunt qui pessimi sunt, in bello regnant sceleratissimi: et quos in pace suffigas in crucem, horum in bellis primaria est opera. Quis enim melius per devia ducet copias, quam latro exercitatus?

If impiety and the neglect of religion are the fount of all evils, these are utterly overwhelmed by the tempests of war. If you judge the state of the Commonwealth to be worst when those who are worst have the greatest power, in war the most criminal reign; and those whom in peace you would fasten to the cross—these men in wars have the chief task. For who will better lead the troops through byways than a practiced bandit?

Quis fortius diripiet aedes, aut spoliabit templa, quam parietum perfossor, aut sacrilegus? Quis animosius feriet hostem, et hauriet ferro vitalia, quam gladiator, aut parricida? Quis aeque idoneus ad iniiciendum ignem urbibus aut machinis, quam incendiarius?

Who will more mightily sack houses, or despoil temples, than a wall-breaker or a sacrilegist? Who more boldly will strike the enemy, and with steel drain the vitals, than a gladiator or a parricide? Who is equally fit for setting fire to cities or engines of war as an incendiary?

Quis aeque contemnet fluctus, marisque discrimina, ac pirata diutinis praedationibus exercitus? [XX] Vis palam cernere, quam res sit impia bellum, animadverte per quos geritur. Si pio Principi nihil antiquius esse debet, quam suorum incolumitas, huic bellum in primis invisum sit, oportet.

Who will contemn equally the waves and the perils of the sea as a pirate exercised by long depredations? [20] Do you wish openly to discern how impious a thing war is, take note by whom it is carried on. If for a pious prince nothing ought to be more paramount than the safety of his own, to him war ought, above all, to be hateful.

Si Principis felicitas est imperare felici, pacem potissimum amplecti debet. Si praecipue optandum bono Principi, ut imperet quam optimis, bellum detestetur oportet, unde scatet omnis impietatis sentina. Si suas opes esse putat quidquid cives possident, bellum omnibus rationibus vitet, quod ut felicissime cadat, certe facultates omnium atterit, et quod honestis artibus partum est, in immanes quosdam carnifices erogandum.

If a Prince’s felicity is to rule felicitously, he ought above all to embrace peace. If it is especially to be desired for a good Prince that he rule the best men possible, he ought to detest war, whence the bilge of every impiety gushes. If he deems as his own wealth whatever the citizens possess, let him avoid war by every consideration; for, however most felicitously it may turn out, it surely abrades the resources of all, and what has been produced by honest arts is to be disbursed to certain monstrous executioners.

Iam illud etiam atque etiam perpendant, suam cuique blandiri causam, et suam cuique spem arridere, cum illa saepenumero pessima sit, quae commoto videatur aequissima, et haec non raro fallit. Sed finge causam iustissimam, finge exitum belli prosperrimum, rationem fac ineas omnium incommodorum quibus gestum est bellum, et commoditatum quas peperit victoria, et vide num tanti fuerit vincere. Vix umquam victoria contingit incruenta.

Let them now weigh again and again this point too: that each man’s cause flatters him, and each man’s hope smiles upon him, whereas very often that is the worst which, when things are in commotion, seems most equitable; and this not rarely deceives. But suppose the most just cause; suppose the most prosperous outcome of the war; make an account—enter upon a reckoning—of all the incommodities by which the war was waged, and of the commodities which victory has begotten, and see whether it was worth so much to have conquered. Hardly ever does victory befall bloodless.

Iam habes tuos humano sanguine pollutos. Ad haec supputa morum, publicaeque disciplinae iacturam, nullo compendio sarciendam. Exhauris tuum fiscum, expilas populum, oneras bonos, ad facinus excitas improbos, neque vero confecto bello, [XXV] protinus et belli reliquiae sopitae sunt.

Already you have your own men polluted with human blood. To these things, reckon also the loss of morals and of public discipline, a loss to be patched by no saving. You exhaust your treasury, you plunder the people, you burden the good, you incite the wicked to crime, nor indeed, when the war has been brought to an end, are the remnants of war forthwith lulled to sleep [25].

Obsolescunt artes, includuntur negociatorum commercia. Ut hostem includas, prius temet ipsum a tot rationibus cogeris excludere. Ante bellum omnes finitimae regiones tuae erant, pax enim rerum commerciis facit omnia communia.

The arts grow obsolete, the commerce of merchants is shut in. That you may enclose the enemy, you are first compelled to exclude yourself from so many means. Before the war all the neighboring regions were yours, for peace, by the commerce of things, makes all things common.

Vide quantam rem egeris, nunc vix tua est, quae maxime tua est ditio. Ut oppidulum excindas, quot machinis, quot tentoriis opus est? Imitatitiam urbem facias oportet, ut veram evertas, at minoris aliud verum oppidum exstrui poterat.

See how great a thing you have done: now scarcely is that realm yours which is most yours. To raze a little town, how many machines, how many tents are needed? You must make an imitative city in order to overturn the real one, yet for a smaller price another true town could have been built.

Ne liceat hosti prodire ex oppido, tu exsul a patria sub dio dormis. Minoris constaturum erat, aedificare nova moenia, quam aedificata machinis demoliri. Ut ne computem hic, quod pecuniarum effluit inter exigentium, recipientium, ac Ducum digitos, quae sane pars est non minima.

So that the enemy may not be allowed to go forth from the town, you, an exile from your fatherland, sleep under the open sky. It would have cost less to build new walls than to demolish the ones built by means of engines. Not to reckon here how much of the monies flows away between the fingers of the exactors, the receivers, and the commanders, which indeed is no small part.

Quod si horum singula ad verum calculum revoces, ni compereris decima impendiorum parte pacem redimi potuisse, patiar aequo animo me profligari undique. Sed parum excelsi animi tibi videare, si quid remittas iniuriarum: imo nullum est certius argumentum humilis animi, minimeque Regii, quam ulcisci. Maiestati tuae nonnihil decedere putas, si cum finitimo Principe agens, [XXVI] et fortasse cognato, aut affini, fortassis alias bene de te merito, de tuo iure decedas aliquantulum.

But if you recall each of these things to a true calculation, unless you find that peace could have been redeemed with a tenth part of the expenditures, I will suffer with even mind to be defeated on every side. Yet you may seem to yourself too little of an exalted spirit, if you remit anything of the injuries: nay, there is no surer argument of a low spirit, and least of all Royal, than to take vengeance. You think that something is deducted from your Majesty, if, dealing with a neighboring Prince, [26] and perhaps a cognate or an affine, perhaps otherwise well deserving of you, you should cede a little from your right.

At quanto humilius deiicis maiestatem tuam, dum Barbaris cohortibus, et infimae sceleratorum feci, numquam explendae, auro subinde litare cogeris, dum ad Cares vilissimos simul ac nocentissimos blandus ac supplex mittis legatos, dum tuum ipsius caput, dum tuorum fortunas illorum credis fidei, quibus nihil est neque pensi, neque sancti? Quod si quid iniquitatis videbitur habere pax, cave sic cogites, hoc perdo, sed tanti pacem emo.

But by how much more humbly you cast down your majesty, while you are compelled repeatedly to propitiate with gold barbarian cohorts and the lowest dregs of criminals, never to be sated; while to the Carians, both the vilest and the most guilty, fawning and as a suppliant you send legates; while you entrust your very own head, and the fortunes of your people, to the faith of those men for whom nothing is of weight and nothing sacred? And if peace will seem to have anything of iniquity, beware of thinking thus: I lose this, but I purchase peace at such a price.

At dixerit argutior aliquis, Facile donarim, si res ad me privatim pertineat. Princeps sum, negotium publicum, velim nolim, ago. Non facile bellum suscipiet, qui nihil nisi publicum spectat.

But some more shrewd person will say, I would easily grant it, if the matter pertained to me privately. I am a prince; I transact public business, willing or unwilling. He will not easily undertake war who regards nothing except the public interest.

Atqui contra videmus omnes fere belli causas ex his rebus nasci, quae nihil ad populum pertineant. Vis hanc aut illam ditionis partem vindicare, quid istud ad populi negotium? Vis ulcisci qui filiae renunciavit, quid hoc ad Rempublicam?

And yet, on the contrary, we see almost all the causes of war arise from those matters which pertain nothing to the people. You wish to vindicate this or that part of dominion—what is that to the people’s business? You wish to take vengeance on the man who broke off his engagement to your daughter—what is this to the Commonwealth?

Haec expendere, haec perspicere, vere sapientis, vereque magni est Principis. Quis umquam aut latius imperavit, aut splendidius Octavio Augusto? At is cupiebat etiam deponere imperium, si quem vidisset Reipublicae magis salutarem Principem.

To weigh these things, to see them through, is the part of a truly wise man, and truly of a great Princeps. Who ever either wielded a wider imperium, or more splendidly, than Octavian Augustus? And yet he even wished to lay down the imperium, if he had seen a Princeps more salutary for the Republic.

[XXVI] Merito laudata est ab egregiis auctoribus vox illa cuiusdam Imperatoris, Pereant, inquit, filii mei, si quis alius melius sit Reipublicae consulturus. Hos animos Reipublicae praestiterunt homines impii, quod ad Christi religionem attinet: et Christiani Principes usque adeo vilem ducunt populum Christianum, ut gravissimo orbis incendio privatas suas cupiditates vel ulcisci velint, vel explere?

[26] Deservedly has that utterance of a certain Emperor been praised by distinguished authors, “Let my sons perish,” he says, “if anyone else would consult better for the Commonwealth.” Such spirits for the Commonwealth have impious men displayed; and—as concerns the religion of Christ—do Christian Princes to such a degree reckon the Christian people vile, that by the most grievous conflagration of the world they are willing either to avenge their private cupidities or to satisfy them?

Iam audio quosdam ita tergiversantes, ut negent se tutos esse posse, nisi vim improborum acriter propellant. Cur igitur inter innumeros Imperatores Romanos, soli Antonini, Pius et Philosophus, petiti non sunt? Nisi quod nemo tutius regnat, quam qui paratus est et deponere utpote quod Reipublicae gerat, non sibi.

Already I hear some prevaricating in such a way as to deny that they can be safe unless they vigorously repel the force of the wicked. Why then, among the innumerable Roman Emperors, were the Antonines alone—the Pious and the Philosopher—not attacked? If not because no one reigns more securely than he who is prepared even to lay it down, inasmuch as he administers it for the Republic, not for himself.

Quod si nihil vos movet, neque naturae sensus, neque pietatis respectus, neque tanta calamitas, certe Christiani nominis probrum animos vestros in concordiam redigat. Quota mundi portio tenetur a Christianis? Atque haec tamen est illa civitas in edito monte sita, spectaculum facta Deo et hominibus.

If nothing moves you—neither the sense of nature, nor the regard of piety, nor so great a calamity—at least let the reproach of the Christian name bring your minds back into concord. What portion of the world is held by Christians? And yet this is that city set on a lofty mountain, made a spectacle to God and to men.

At quid sentire putandum est, quid loqui, quae probra in Christum evomere Christiani nominis hostes, ubi vident Christianos sic inter sese concertare, levioribus de causis quam Ethnici, crudelius quam impii, machinis tetrioribus quam ipsi? Quorum inventum est bombarda? Nonne Christianorum?

But what are we to suppose the enemies of the Christian name feel, what they say, what reproaches they vomit forth against Christ, when they see Christians thus contend among themselves, for lighter causes than the Ethnics, more cruelly than the impious, with machines more foul than they themselves? Whose invention is the bombard? Is it not the Christians’?

Et quo res sit indignior, his induuntur Apostolorum nomina, [XXVII] insculpuntur Divorum imagines. O crudelis irrisio. Paulus ille pacis hortator perpetuus, Tartaream machinam torquet in Christianum?

And that the matter may be the more unworthy, upon these are put the names of the Apostles, [27] the images of the Saints are insculpted. O cruel derision. Is that Paul, the perpetual exhorter of peace, turning a Tartarean machine upon a Christian?

Si cupimus Turcas ad Christi religionem adducere, prius ipsi simus Christiani. Numquam hoc illi credent, si quod est, perspiciant nusquam magis saevire, quam apud Christianos, id quod Christus unum omnium maxime detestatus est. Et quod Homerus Ethnicus demiratur in Ethnicis, quum suavium etiam rerum, ut somni, cibi, potus, choreae, musices satietas sit, belli infelicis nullam esse satietatem: id apud eos verissimum est, quibus ipsum etiam belli vocabulum abominandum esse oportuit.

If we desire to lead the Turks to the religion of Christ, first let us ourselves be Christians. They will never believe this, if they perceive, as is the case, that that which Christ above all things most detested rages nowhere more than among Christians. And what Homer, an Ethnic, marvels at among the Ethnics—that even of pleasant things, such as sleep, food, drink, dancing, music, there is satiety, but of ill-fated war there is no satiety—this is most true among those for whom even the very name of war ought to have been abominable.

Roma furiosa quondam illa bellatrix, tamen Iani sui templum aliquoties vidit clausum. Et qui convenit apud vos nullas esse bellandi ferias? Quonam ore praedicabitis eis Christum, pacis auctorem, ipsi perpetuis dissidiis inter vos tumultuantes?

Rome, once that furious female warrior, nevertheless saw the temple of her Janus closed several times. And how does it comport among you that there are no holidays from warring? With what mouth will you preach to them Christ, the author of peace, you yourselves tumultuating among yourselves with perpetual dissensions?

Iam quos putatis animos addit Turcis vestra discordia? Nihil enim facilius quam vincere dissidentes. Vultis illis esse formidabiles?

Now what spirits do you think your discord adds to the Turks? For nothing is easier than to conquer the dissenting. Do you wish to be formidable to them?

Concordes estote. Cur ultro vobis et praesentis vitae iucunditatem invidetis, et a futura felicitate vultis excidere? [XXVII] Multis malis per se obnoxia est vita mortalium, magnam molestiae partem adimet concordia, dum mutuis officiis alius alium aut consolatur, aut iuvat.

Be of one accord. Why, moreover, do you of your own accord begrudge yourselves both the pleasantness of the present life, and wish to fall away from future felicity? [27] The life of mortals is by itself subject to many evils; concord will remove a great part of the trouble, while by mutual offices one man either consoles another, or helps.

Si quid boni obtinget, id tum suavius tum communius reddet concordia, dum amicus impertit amico, et benevolus benevolo gratulatur. Quam frivola sunt, quamque mox peritura pro quibus inter vos tumultus est. Mors omnibus imminet, non minus Regibus quam plebeiis.

If anything good shall befall, concord will then render it both sweeter and more shared, while a friend imparts to a friend, and a benevolent man congratulates a benevolent man. How frivolous are the things, and how soon to perish, on account of which there is tumult among you. Death is imminent for all, no less for Kings than for plebeians.

Quos tumultus ciet animalculum, mox fumi in morem evaniturum? In foribus adest aeternitas. Quorsum attinet, pro rebus istis umbraticis perinde moliri, quasi vita haec esset immortalis?

What tumults does an animalcule, soon to vanish in the manner of smoke, stir up? Eternity stands at the doors. To what end is it to labor for those umbratile things all the same, as if this life were immortal?

O miseros, qui felicem illam piorum vitam non credunt, aut non sperant: impudentes qui sibi pollicentur e bellis ad eam iter esse, cum illa nihil sit aliud quam ineffabilis quaedam felicium animorum communio, cura iam ad plenum continget, quod Christus tam enixe rogaverat Patrem coelestem, ut sic inter se iungerentur illi, quemadmodum ipse Patri iunctus est. Ad hanc summam concordiam qui possitis esse idonei, nisi eam interim pro virili meditemini? Ut non subito ex spurco helluone fit Angelus, ita non subito ex bellatore sanguinario, martyrum et virginum socius.

O wretched are they who do not believe in, or do not hope for, that felicitous life of the pious; shameless are they who promise themselves that from wars there is a way to it, whereas it is nothing else than a certain ineffable communion of happy souls—where the concern will now to the full be realized, namely what Christ had so earnestly entreated the heavenly Father: that they might be joined among themselves thus, just as he himself is joined to the Father. How can you be fit for this highest concord, unless in the meantime you meditate and rehearse it to the best of your virile power? As an Angel is not made suddenly out of a foul glutton, so neither is a companion of martyrs and virgins made suddenly out of a bloodstained warrior.

Eia satis iam superque fusum est Christiani, si parum est humani sanguinis, satis in mutua debacchatum exitia, satis hactenus Furiis Orcoque litatum, satis diu quae Turcarum pascat oculos, acta est fabula. Saltem aliquando post nimium diu toleratas bellorum miserias resipiscite. [XXVIII] Quidquid hactenus insanitum est, fatis imputetur: placeat Christianis, quae quondam profanis placuit, superiorum malorum oblivio.

Come now, enough now and more than enough of Christian blood has been poured out—if human blood is too little—enough has run riot into mutual destructions, enough thus far has been sacrificed to the Furies and to Orcus, long enough the play that feeds the eyes of the Turks has been acted. At least at some point, after the too-long-endured miseries of wars, come to your senses. [28] Whatever madness there has been thus far, let it be imputed to the Fates: let that which once pleased the profane please Christians—oblivion of former evils.

Posthac communibus consiliis in pacis studium incumbite, et sic incumbite, ut non stupeis, sed solidis atque adamantinis vinculis coeat, numquam dirumpenda.

Thereafter, by common counsels, bend yourselves to the zeal for peace, and so apply yourselves that it may cohere not with tow-cords, but with solid and adamantine bonds, never to be torn asunder.

Vos appello, Principes, de quorum nutu potissimum pendent res mortalium, qui Christi Principis imaginem inter mortales geritis, agnoscite Regis vestri vocem ad pacem vocantis, existimate totum orbem diutinis fessum malis, hoc a vobis flagitare. Si quid cui dolet etiamnum, aequum est hoc publicae omnium felicitati donare. Maius est negotium, quam ut levibus causis debeat retardari.

I address you, Princes, on whose nod the affairs of mortals chiefly depend, who bear among mortals the image of Christ the Prince: recognize the voice of your King calling to peace; reckon that the whole world, weary with long-continued evils, demands this from you. If anything still pains anyone, it is equitable to remit it for the public felicity of all. The business is greater than that it ought to be delayed by slight causes.

Appello vos, Sacerdotes, Deo sacri, hoc studiis omnibus exprimite, quod Deo gratissimum esse scitis: hoc depellite, quod illi maxime invisum. Appello vos, Theologi, pacis Evangelium praedicate, hanc semper popularibus auribus occinite. Appello vos, Episcopi, aliique dignitate Ecclesiastica praeminentes, ad pacem aeternis vinculis adstringendam vestra valeat auctoritas.

I appeal to you, Priests, sacred to God, express by every endeavor this which you know to be most pleasing to God; drive away this, which is most hateful to him. I appeal to you, Theologians, preach the Evangel of peace, sing this continually to popular ears. I appeal to you, Bishops, and others preeminent in Ecclesiastical dignity, let your authority avail to bind peace with eternal bonds.

Appello vos, Primates et Magistratus, ut sapientiae Regum, ut pietati Pontificum vestra voluntas sit adiutrix. Vos appello promiscue, quicumque Christiano nomine censemini, consentientibus animis in hoc conspirate. Hic ostendite quantum valeat adversus potentum tyrannidem multitudinis concordia.

I appeal to you, Primates and Magistrates, that your will be an auxiliary to the wisdom of Kings, to the piety of Pontiffs. I appeal to you indiscriminately, whoever are reckoned under the Christian name, with consenting minds conspire in this. Here show how much the concord of the multitude avails against the tyranny of the powerful.

Huc pariter omnes omnia sua consilia conferant. Iungat aeterna concordia, quos tam multis rebus coniunxit natura, pluribus Christus. [XXVIII] Communibus studiis agant omnes, quod ad omnium ex aequo felicitatem pertinet.

Let all alike here confer all their counsels. Let eternal concord join those whom nature has conjoined in so many matters, and by more, Christ. [28] Let all with common endeavors pursue that which pertains to the felicity of all equally.

Huc invitant omnia, primum ipse naturae sensus, atque ipsa, ut ita dicam, humanitas. Deinde totius humanae felicitatis Princeps et Auctor Christus. Ad haec tam multa pacis commoda, tot belli calamitates.

Hither everything invites, first the very sense of nature, and humanity itself, so to speak. Next, Christ, the Prince and Author of all human felicity. To these, so many advantages of peace, so many calamities of war.

Vocant huc ipsi Principum animi, iam velut adflante Deo, ad concordiam propensi. En pacificus ille placidusque Leo, signum omnibus extulit, ad pacem invitans, vereque Christi vicarium agens. Si vere oves estis, sequimini pastorem.

The very spirits of princes call hither, now, as though with God breathing upon them, inclined toward concord. Behold that pacific and placid Leo has borne aloft the sign for all, inviting to peace, and truly acting as the vicar of Christ. If you are truly sheep, follow the shepherd.

Si filii, audite patrem. Vocat ille non titulo tantum Christianissimus Galliarum Rex Franciscus, qui pacem nec emere gravatur, nec usquam suae maiestatis habet rationem, modo publicae paci consulat: hoc denique vere splendidum ac Regium esse docens, de genere humano quam optime mereri. Vocat huc clarissimus Princeps Carolus, incorruptae indolis adolescens.

If you are sons, listen to the father. He calls— not in title only— the Most Christian King of the Gauls, Francis, who does not scruple even to buy peace, nor anywhere has regard for his own majesty, provided he look to the public peace: teaching, finally, that this is truly splendid and Regal, to deserve as well as possible of the human race. Hither calls the most illustrious Prince Charles, an adolescent of incorrupt disposition.

Nec abhorret Caesar Maximilianus, nec detrectat inclytus Angliae Rex Henricus. Tantorum Principum exemplum, caeteros libenter imitari par est. Maxima plebis pars bellum detestatur, pacem orat.

Nor does Caesar Maximilian shrink, nor does the renowned King of England Henry refuse. It is fitting that the others willingly imitate the example of such great Princes. The greatest part of the plebs detests war, prays for peace.

Pauculi quidam modo, quorum impia felicitas a publica pendet infelicitate, bellum optant. Quorum improbitas, ut plus valeat, quam bonorum omnium voluntas, aequum sit nec ne, vos ipsi expendite. Videtis hactenus, nihil actum foederibus, nihil promotum affinitatibus, nihil vi, nihil ulciscendo.

Only a few, certain ones whose impious felicity hangs upon the public infelicity, opt for war. Whether it be equitable or not that their depravity should prevail more than the will of all good men, weigh it yourselves. You see thus far: nothing accomplished by treaties, nothing promoted by affinities, nothing by force, nothing by avenging.

Nunc contra periculum facite, quid possit placabilitas, quid beneficentia. Bellum e bello seritur, ultio trahit ultionem. Nunc gratia gratiam pariat, et beneficium beneficio invitetur, isque regalior videatur, qui plus de suo iure concesserit.

Now, against the peril, make trial of what placability can do, what beneficence can do. War is sown from war, vengeance draws vengeance. Now let favor beget favor, and let a benefit be invited by a benefit, and let him seem the more regal who has conceded more of his own right.

Non successit quod humanis studiis gestum est: at fortunabit ipse Christus pia consilia, quae se auctore et auspice viderit suscipi. Aderit dexter, adspirabit, favebitque faventibus ei rei, cui favit ipse plurimum, privatos adfectus publica vincat utilitas. [XXIX] Quamquam dum huic consulitur, et sua cuique fortuna melior reddetur: Principibus regnum erit augustius, si piis ac felicibus imperent, ut legibus regnent magis quam armis: Proceribus maior veriorque dignitas, Sacerdotibus otium tranquillius: populo quies uberior, et ubertas quietior: nomen Christianum formidabilius crucis hostibus.

What has been done by human endeavors has not succeeded: but Christ himself will prosper the pious counsels which he shall have seen to be undertaken with himself as author and auspice. He will be present propitious, he will breathe upon, and he will favor those who favor that matter to which he himself has most favored, let public utility overcome private affections. [29] And yet, while this is being cared for, each one’s own fortune also will be rendered better: for princes the realm will be more august, if they command the pious and the prosperous, so that they may reign by laws more than by arms: for the nobles a greater and truer dignity, for priests a more tranquil leisure: for the people a richer rest, and a quieter abundance: the Christian name more formidable to the enemies of the cross.

Denique singuli singulis, et omnes omnibus cari simul et iucundi eritis, super omnia Christo grati, cui placuisse summa felicitas est. Dixi.

Finally, individuals will be dear to individuals, and all to all, at once dear and delightful, and above all you will be pleasing to Christ, to have pleased whom is the highest felicity. I have spoken.