09890 LO/L €

|

Goldwin Smith.

ae . . .
ieee! : , 4
— :

ao
’
.
’
«
.
~

THE WORKS:

FRANCIS BACON,
Lord Chancellor of England.

A NEW EDITION:

BY

BASIL MONTAGU, ESQ.

VOL. XV.
<<
\\ a 1
2 eee
LONDON: pie

WILLIAM PICKERING.
MDCCCXXXIV.

ttingham, Tooks Court,
- Chancery Lane.

pee a,

ee ee ee ee

pI a ee ee ae ee ene ee ee a ee

THIS VOLUME CONTAINS THE FOLLOWING
TRANSLATIONS.

I. TRANSLATION INTO ENGLISH.

Page
Ie the dheory: of the-Kirmament +.: 5605. 2.6. ves rf
2. Thoughts concerning the Interpretation of Nature 16
3. The Fable of Cupid..... ceerraies es eee ae 44
4. Inquiry respecting Light ......scssecsccceces 82
5. Aphorisms respecting the Helps of the Mind .... 87
6. The Interpretation of Nature ............ yee Oo
7. Phenomena of the Universe...... Gicicte te eee 122
8. The Intellectual Globe....... ecko se 150
9. The Ebb and Flow of the Sea.........--see0. 192
10. The Alphabet of Nature .........cecesccccees 207
11. Catalogue of Bodies attractive and not attractive. 211
12. Ormmamentee Rationale ..........cecceccerees 213
13. Inquisition of the Conversion of Bodies ........ 215
14. Translation of Latin Letters ....00..seeeeeeees 217
15. Of the Interpretation of Nature ...........-.-- 220
16. The Masculine Birth of Time .............-.. 223
17. History of Sound ..... Oar: Die Gee eee 225
II. TRansLation nto Latin.
The Essays ...cccscsscccccscccscsescerrecs 251
ENDER ou. Suse lage ON oie Serer ee . 381

WO exe b

: oe
ee

THE

THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT.

Bur as so many foiling inconveniences are found to
spring up on all sides, it should be deemed satisfactory
if any thing can be avouched less revolting.

Let us, therefore, construct a scheme of the universe,
according to that measure of history hitherto known to us,
reserving for our future judgment all new lights, after
history, and through history, our philosophy, by induction,
may have reached a maturer age. But we will, in the
outset, premise some points that have reference to the
matter composing the heavenly bodies, whence their mo-
tion and formation may be better understood ; afterwards
setting forth our thoughts and ideas of that motion itself,
the chief subject under discussion.

Nature then, in the separating of matter, seems to have
drawn an impassable bar between the rare and dense, and to
have assigned the globe of the earth to the order of the
dense; but every thing, from the very surface of the earth,
and its waters, to the utmost extremity of the firmament, to
that of:the rare or volatile, as it were, to twin classes of first
principles, not indeed of equal but of suitable portions.
Nor indeed does either the water clinging to the clouds, or
the wind pent up in the earth, disarrange this natural and
appropriate position of things: but this difference, be-
tween rare or volatile, and dense or tangible, is entirely
primordial or essential, and is what the system of the uni-
verse chiefly has recourse to. It proceeds from a state
of things the most simple possible—this is from the abun-
dance and scarceness of matter, in proportion to its exten-
sion. _What belong to the order of subtile or volatile, as

VOL. XV. B

2 THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT.

found here among us, (we are speaking of those bodies
that are simple and perfect, not of such as are compounded
and imperfectly mixed,) are clearly those two bodies, air
and flame. But these are to be propounded as bodies
utterly heterogeneous, not, as is commonly supposed, that
flame is nothing else than air set on fire. To these cor-
respond, in the higher regions, the etherial and sidereal
nature, as, in the inferior, water and oil, and in the still
deeper parts, mercury and sulphur, and generally crude
and fat bodies, or, in other words, bodies that have a
repugnance to, and such as are susceptible of, flame; (for
salts are of a compounded nature, consisting of crude
and at the same time also of inflammable parts). It is
now to be seen by what compact these two great families
of things, air and flame, shall have occupied by far the
greater part of the universe, and what are those parts they
hold in the system. In air nearest to the earth, flame
lives but a momentary life, and utterly perishes. But
after the air has begun to be more depurate from the
effluvie of the earth and well rarified, the nature of
flame through various* adventures explores its way, and
tries to take its station in the air, and after a time ac-
quires some duration, not from succession, as with us,
but in identity ;+ which takes place for a time in some of
the feebler comets, which are in a manner of an inter-
mediate nature between a successive and a fixed flame; the
flamy nature however is not fixed or established, before its
arrival at the body of the moon. There the flame lays
down its extinguishable part, and protects itself on all
sides, but yet it is a flame, weak without vigour, and
having little of radiation of that kind; that is, neither
vivid from its own nature, nor much excited by a contrary
one; neither is it sincere, but, from its composition with an
etherial substance, such as is there met with, it is stained
and mixed up. And in the region of Mercury flame has
not very plentifully established itself, since, by the accu-
mulation of its whole amount, it is able to form only a
small planet, and that withal labouring and struggling, like
an ignis fatuus, with a great and highly disturbed diversity

* Per varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum, Virg. Aen. iii, 208. ‘ Per
varios casus tentat et experitur,’ may be translated ‘ after various adventurous
efforts tries,’ or, ‘ adventurous through many casualties tries.’

+ Identitus : quavis actio repetita,

THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT. 3

of fluctuating motions, and not bearing to be separated but
for a small distance from the guardian protection of the
sun. Moreover, after we arrive at the region of Venus,
the flamy nature begins to gain strength and to wax
brighter, and to be collected into a globe of a tolerable
size; nevertheless she also is the handmaid of the sun,
and shudders with an abhorrence of any greater recession |
from him. But in the region of the sun, flame is set, as it
were, on a throne, the mean being among the flames of
the planets, for there it is stronger and more glittering
than the flames of the fixed stars, on account of the
greater restraining * influence shed all around, and the
closest possible union. But flame in the region of Mars is
observed to be likewise powerful, denoting by its splendor
the sun’s vicinity, yet existing of its own proper virtue,
and admitting of a separation from the sun to the extent
of the whole diameter of the firmament. In the region of
Jupiter, however, flame, laying aside, in a gradual man-
ner, this emulation, appears more serene and clear, not so
much from its proper nature, (as the planet Venus, she being
more sparkling,) but from being less moved and excited by
the nature spread around him;+ in which region it is
probable that takes place, which Galileo devised, to wit,
that the firmament there begins to be studded with stars,
although from their minuteness invisible, But again, in
the region of Saturn the nature of flame seems to become
somewhat languid and faint, as being both farther removed
from an alliance with the sun, and exhausted by the neigh-
bouring constellated firmament. Lastly, a flamy and
sidereal nature having overpowered the ztherial nature,
gives a constellated firmament composed of an etherial
and sidereal nature, as the globe of the earth is of con-
tinent and waters scattered up and down on this side and
that side, the etherial substance being however overruled,
subdued, and assimilated, so as to thoroughly endure and
become subservient to the sidereal. Wherefore, from the
earth, to the summit of the firmament are found three

* Antiperistasin: aepisaoce signifies, generally, ‘ circumstance :’ but in
Athen. 1. 5. it also denotes ‘circuitus’: ai 62 rij¢ mepisdcewe Spat roy
doO poy Exoor odcat, porte, que in circuitu erant, viginti, &c.; therefore the
illustrious author may mean by ‘antiperistasis’ the attractive influence of the
sun opposed to, and which detains [cohibet] the planets in their orbits.

+ Or, ‘from the nature spread around him being less,” &c. according as
uritata and exasperata are taken in the nominative or ablative case.

4 THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT.

genera of regions, and, as it were, three stages, as relate
to the region in which flame ig extinguished, the region in
which flame disperses itself; moreover, to quibble about
contiguity and continuity in soft and flowing bodies, would
be an utter vulearism. Nevertheless that point should be
understood, namely, that nature is accustomed to advance
to spaces by gradual steps, then, of a sudden, by leaps,
and to alternate this sort of process, otherwise no fabric
could be formed did she always proceed by insensible de-
grees; for what a jump as respects the expansion of matter
is there from water to air, even ever so dense or clouded,
and yet these bodies, so different in their nature, are joined
together in position and superficies without any medium or
interposing distance: nor is it a less leap as to a substan-
tial nature, from the region of the air to the region of the
moon; in like manner, a prodigious one from the firma-
ment. Wherefore if any one shall have taken for con-
tinuous and contiguous, not from the manner of their
annexation, but from the diversity of the bodies con-
nected, those three regions we have spoken of, they can
only be held for contiguous in their limits.

But now it is time to notice, in a clear and explicit
manner, the amount and nature of what this our theory,
relating to the substance matters of a system, may estab-
lish, as also of what it may give the negative to, in order
that it may be maintained or overthrown. It denies that
vulgar opinion, that flame is air ignited, by affirming that
those two bodies, air and flame, are clearly heterogeneous,
like water and oil, sulphur and mercury. It negatives
that vacuum coacervatum held by Gilbert, to obtain among
the scattered spheres, but affirms that the spaces are filled
either with aerial or a flamy nature. It denies that the
moon is an aqueous, or a dense, or a solid body, but affirms
that it is of a flamy nature, though it be gentle withal and
weak, being indeed the first rudiment and the last sedi-
ment of ccelestial flame; since flame, (according to its
density), no less than air and liquids, admits of innu-
merable degrees. It establishes that flame, justly and
freely posited, becomes fixed and subsists, no less than air
and water; nor is it a momentary thing, and only suc-
cessive in its bulk, by renewal and feeding, as is the case
here with us. It maintains that flame has a natural ten-
dency to go and collect itself into globes, after the manner
of an earthy nature, but not at all like air and water,

THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT. 5)

which are gathered together in orbs and the interstices of
globes, but never into perfect globes. It avers that the
same flamy nature in the proper place, (that is) in the
constellated firmament, is dispersed in infinite round
atoms, but yet in such sort that that twofold principle
of pure air and constellation be not put off, nor yet flame
extended to the heaven of heavens. It affirms that stars
are real flames, but that the actions of flame in the heavens
should in no wise be wrested into a comparison with the
actions of flame with us, most of which operate by ca-
sualty. It affirms that the ether interspersed among
stars, and the stars themselves, have respective relations
to air and flame, but sublimated and rectified. And thus
with respect to the substance of the constitution or system
of the universe, some such ideas as these have suggested
themselves to our mind.

We must now speak of the motions of the heavenly
bodies, on account of which we have adduced these pre-
mises. It appears reasonable to suppose that rest is not
excluded from nature as to any whole (for we are not
now discoursing of small parts). This (waiving logical
and mathematical subtleties) is mainly evident from the
fact, that the inciting causes, and the- velocities of the
heavenly motions, gradually slacken themselves, as tending
to ultimate cessation, and because that even the heavenly
bodies partake of rest, hard by the poles, and because,
if immobility be excluded the system, it is dissolved and
dissipated. But, if there be a certain accumulation and
mass of matter of an immoveable nature, there seems no
further room to doubt that it is the globe of the earth; for
a dense and close cementing of matter disposes toward
a languid and reluctant motion; as, on the contrary, a
loose unfolding of it towards a brisk and ready one. And
not without reason did Telesius, (who revived the phi-
losophy and discussions of Parmenides in a treatise on
the principle of cold), introduce into nature, not indeed a
co-essentiality and coupling (which was his wish), but,
however, an affinity and agreement, to wit, on one side, of
hot, shining, rare, and immoveable, and, on the opposite
part, of cold, dark, dense, and immoveable, by placing
the site of the first harmony in the heavens, of the second
on the earth. But, if rest and immobility be conceded,
it seems fit that we also suppose a motion without limit and
to the uttermost moveable, especially in natures opposed to

6 FHEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT.

each other. This motion is commonly rotatory, such as
is generally found in the heavenly bodies; for motion in
a circle has no termination, and seems to flow from a
natural desire of the body, which moves, only that it
may move, and follow itself, and seek its own embraces,
and excite its.nature, and enjoy it, and exercise itself in
its proper operation; whereas a motion in a right line
may seem a finite journeying, and a movement to a boun-
dary of cessation or rest, and that it may attain some-
thing, and then quietly lay down its motion. Wherefore
respecting that rotatory motion, which motion is true and —
perennial, and commonly supposed peculiar to the heavenly
bodies, we must inquire how it equips itself in the outset,
and by what rate of conduct it incites and checks itself,
and what the nature may be of those influences which
really act upon it. In our progress of unfolding these
things, we will refer to computations and tables, that
beautiful mathematical dogma (that all motions are res-
trained to circles, perfect, or eccentric, or concentric), and
that high flown dictum (that the earth is, in respect of the
firmament, like a point of no magnitude), and many more
feigned discoveries of astronomers. But first we will
divide the heavenly motions: some are cosmici, others
ad invicem. Those we call cosmict, which the heavenly
bodies acquire from the consent not only of the heavens
but of the universe: those ‘ad invicem, in which some
heavenly bodies depend on others: and this is a true
and necessary division. On the supposition, then, of the
earth standing still (for that at present appears to us the
truer hypothesis), it is manifest that the heavens are car-
ried round by a diurnal motion, the measure of which
motion is the space of twenty-four hours, or thereabouts ;
and, consequently, the revolution is from east to west,
upon certain points, (which they call poles,) south and
north: moreover the heavens are not whirled round move-
able poles, nor, back again, are the points different from
those stated; and this motion verily seems in harmony
with universal nature, and therefore sole, except as far as
it admits both of decrements and declinations; accord-
ing to which decrements and declinations this motion
shoots through every thing moveable, and pervades all
space, from the constellated firmament even to the very
bowels and inmost recesses of the earth; not by any
‘snatched or harassing course, but by perpetual consent;

THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT. 7

and that motion in the constellated firmament is perfect
and entire, as well as to a just measure of time, as by a
full restoration of place; but, inasmuch as that motion
recedes from the summit of the heavens, insomuch does
it become more imperfect, with reference to its slowness as
well as its aberration from a circular motion, And, first,
we must speak distinctly of that slowness. We aftirm,
that the diurnal motion of Saturn is too slow to carry it
round, and restore it to the same point in twenty-four
hours; but that the starry firmament is carried on quicker,
and outstrips Saturn by such an excess, as, in as many
days as complete thirty years, would agree with a whole
circuit of the heavens. The same is to be said of the rest
of the planets, according to the difference of the periodic
time of each planet; so that the diurnal motion of the
starry firmament (in that same period, without any regard
to the magnitude of the circle) is nearly by one hour
swifter, than the diurnal motion of the moon; for, if the
moon could complete its revolution in twenty-four days,
then that excess would be one whole hour; wherefore
that much talked of motion, in an opposite and contrary
direction from west to east, which is attributed as pecu-
liar to the planets, is not true, but only apparent, from the
outstripping of the starry firmament toward the west, and
the leaving behind of the planets toward the east, which
being granted, it is evident that the velocity of that cos-
mical motion, by an unperturbed law of nature, as it des-
cends, decreases, so that the nearer each planet approaches
the earth, the slower it moves ; whereas the received opi-
nion overthrows and turns upside down that law; and by
attributing a motion of their own to the planets, falls into
the absurdity, that the planets, the nearer they are to the
earth (which is, naturally, the place of rest), in that ratio
have their celerity increased; which astronomers, in the
most trifling and unsuccessful manner, attempt to excuse,
by a relaxation of the force of the primum mobile. But
if, it seem to any one a matter of wonder, that, in spaces
so vast as interpose between the starry firmament and the
moon, that motion should gradually decrease by portions
so small, by less, to wit, than one hour, which is the
twenty-fourth part of the diurnal motion; it subsides when
we consider that each planet, the nearer it is to the earth,
completes lesser circles, revolving in a shorter circuit; so
that, the decrement of the size of the circle being added to the

8 THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT.

decrement of the periodic time, that motion is perceived te
decrease in a marked manner. Up to this time we have
spoken of the velocity, absolutely and apart, as if the planets,
placed, for example, in the plane of the equator, or of any of
its parallels, were simply overtaken by the starry firmament,
and by one another, but yet in that selfsame circle; for
this would be a mere leaving behind without any respect to
obliquity. But it is manifest, that the planets not only
hasten on their course with unequal relative speed, but
do not return to the same point of a circle, but decline
towards the south and the north, the limits of which
declination are the tropics; which declination has produced
a circle oblique to us, and its different polarity; after the
same manner, that that inequality of velocity has caused
the motion of an opposite action. Nor really is there
need of this figment in the nature of things, since by
introducing spiral lines (the thing that comes nearest to
sense and fact) the matter in dispute may be settled,
and those points be safe and sound. Besides (which is
the sum and substance of the matter) these spirals are
nothing else than deviations from a perfectly circular mo-
tion, which the planets cannot bear; for in proportion as
the substances degenerate in purity and expansion, so also
do their motions. But it happens, that as in point of cele-
rity the higher planets are carried on quicker, and the
inferior slower; so, also, that the superior planets form
spires that approximate * and more nearly resemble cir-
cles, but the inferior curves more disjoined and eccentric ;
for, by descending more and more, there is a perpetual
departure both from that prime state of velocity and that

erfect circular motion, by a law of nature no where
interrupted. In this however the planets agree, (as bodies
retaining much of a common nature, though in other
respects differing,) that they have the same limits of decli-
nation. For neither doth Saturn return within the tropics,
nor does the moon stray beyond the tropics (and yet we
must not dismiss from our consideration what has been
handed down and remarked by some upon the wanderings
of the planet Venus), but all the planets, whether superior

* Propiores, if not misprinted for propriores, must respect the foci of the
ellipses ; which explains ‘ disjunctas: ”’ but, if the illustrious author did write
propiores, why did he afterwards tautologize by saying ‘‘ quaque circulos propius
referant ?”

THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT. 9

or inferior, after their arrival at the tropics, turn themselves,
and recommence a course back again, weary of a lesser
spiral range, such as they would have to undergo, if they
did approach nearer the Poles; and dreading that loss of
motion as destructive of their nature. For howsoever it
may be, in the starry firmament, both the stars near the
poles, and those about the equinoctial, preserve their ranks
and positions, reduced into order, one by another, with
steadfastness and consummate uniformity ; nevertheless the
planets seem to be of that mixed nature, that they admit
not willingly an ampler circuit, nor bear at all a shorter.
Furthermore, these doctrines concerning the heavenly mo-
tions seem to us somewhat preferable to forced and opposite
motions, and of a different polarity of the Zodiac, and an
inverted order of velocity, and such like, which in no way
agree with the nature of things, though they may in a
manner accord with calculations. Neither have eminent
astronomers been blind to these matters, but, wrapped up
in their craft, and reveries of perfect circles, catching at
subtleties and the evil results of a fashionable philosophy,
they have disdained to follow nature. Truly, however, is
that despotic decretal against nature of wise men more mis-
chievous, than the very simplicity and utter credulity of
the uninformed, when any one, for instance, looks with
scorn at truth, because it is manifest: And yet huge is
that evil, and most widely extended, that the human intel-
lect, whenever it finds itself unequal to subjects, has a pre-
dilection to soar above them.

But now we must inquire whether that one and sim-
ple motion in a circle, and in a spiral curve, from east
to west, upon certain south and north poles, cease and ter-
minate with the heavens, or it also be conveyed down to
things beneath. For it would not be ingenuous in us to
feign here in this nether region such aphorism as they sup-
pose with respect to the heavens. Wherefore, if in these
regions be also found that motion, it will appear that, even
in the heavens, it is of like kind, according to a nature
common or cosmical, with that we experience. In the first
place then it is plainly evident, that it is not confined to the
limits of the heavens. But the demonstrations and proofs of
this matter we have fully laid down in our anticipation res-
pecting the flowing and ebbing of the sea; therefore, to that
we refer; and this being supposed and taken for granted,
we will proceed to the rest of the heavenly motions. But

LO THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT.

these we have said are not cosmical, but reciprocal. There
are four kinds of motions visible in the heavens, besides that
which we have called cosmical, which is a diurnal motion in
curves within the tropics. For either the stars are raised
higher, and again depressed lower, as they may be farther
from and nearer to the earth ; or they bend and wind them-
selves through the latitude of the Sadia, by running out
more to the south, or more to the north, and by traversing
what they call the dragons ;* or they vary from an incited
and also an acquisitive motion + (for we join together these
two), advancing sometimes quicker, sometimes slower,
sometimes progressively, sometimes retrogressively, some-
times even stopping and staying; or at a certain distance
from the sun, they are more or less bound together and
drawn round each other. We will recount the causes and
natures of these only, generally touching the heads of each ;
for our present undertaking requires that to be done in this
place. But in order to this, and to secure beforehand, as
well as to open the way, we must frankly declare our sen-
timents upon some of the maxims of philosophers, as also
upon certain hypotheses of astronomers, as well as their
observations during several ages, out of which materials
they built up their mysteries; all which things appear to
us to be full of error and confusion. Wherefore there are
axioms, or rather certain conceits, which, received by phi-
losophers, and transferred to astronomy, and unfortunately
being credited, have corrupted the science. Our rejection
of them will be simple, as well.as our judgment upon them;
for it is not suitable to waste precious time on silly refuta-
tions. The first of these is, that all things above the moon
inclusively are incorruptible; and in no degree or form
whatever do they undergo new beginnings or changes; of
which it has been said elsewhere, that it is a fond and silly
saying. Indeed, from this source proceeds that prodigious
evil, that, on the appearance of every irregularity astro-

* The twelve signs of the Zodiac, I presume ; so called, because most of them
resemble some living creature ; thus Eurip. in Oreste has Apaxoyvrwdne, “ dra-
conibus, seu anguibus plenus ;’’ or it may mean the two Nodes, which comes to
the same thing, represented by the head and the tail of the Dragon ; for the as-
cending Node and Dragon’s head have the same character to denote each (2) ;
so likewise the descending Node and Dragon’s tail (2).

+ Consecution, used by Newton ; does it mean “ picked up on its revolution,”
‘or an orderly accompanying, &c. ; a relative motion; or a train of consequential
motion, incitatio referring to original ?

THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT. eo Tk

nomers shape new and, as they suppose, corrected theories,
and adapt causes eternal and invariable to things more fre-
quently, as it were, fortuitous.

The second is that those turbulent actions of compres-
sion, expansion, resistence, and yielding, which seem to be
produced by a certain softness and hardness of bodies,
taken for elementary qualities, are not compatible with the
heavens, which is doubtless of the fifth and least elemen-
tary essence. But this assertion is a presumptuous and
arbitrary reprobation of things and sense. For wheresoever
any body in nature is in a state of rest, there also is a reluc-
tance to change, and that in proportion to the size of the
body. But wherever are natural bodies, and a local motion,
there will take place either repulsion, or a yielding, or a
resolution of motion ;* for those things which have been
named compactness, looseness of parts, resistance, a giving
way, with many others, are what matter universally under-
goes every where. Yet, however, from this source have
come down to us all that multiplicity of orbits capriciously
jumbled together, which, nevertheless, they are pleased to
say are so distinctly interlineated, and which move and
turn within each other so evenly and glibly, that, notwith-
standing their intricacy, there is no entangling or vibration ;
all which are visionary and a palpable mockery of facts.

A third is, that to each individual body appertains a
peculiar and appropriate motion ; and if more motions are
observable, all, except one, are extrinsic, and derived from
some other moving body. Nothing falser than this can be
conceived, since all bodies, from the manifold consent of
things, are endued with even many motions, some denoting
their nature, others waxing weaker and weaker, others even
lying hid until they be drawn forth; but there are no
special or proper motions of things, except the exact mea-
sures and ratios of common motions. And hence again
has been presented to us that primum mobile severed and
made distinct, and heavens on heavens, and newfangled
mansions contained in them, that they may suffice for the
performances of so many different motions.

* Sectio means, classically, a confiscation of goods, division of spoil, &c. so,
_possibly, here it may mean dissipation of motion ; if the illustrious author uses it
here for secutio (a sequor) then it means an “‘ orderly following” (consequentia
exakodovOnotc) ; but such a word in such a sense is utierly unclassical.

12 THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT.

The fourth is, that all heavenly motions are distributed
through perfect circles ; which is.a very cumbrous doctrine,
and has produced to us those monsters of eccentric curves
and epicycles ; whereas, however, had they consulted nature,
a regulated and uniform motion belongs to a perfect circle ;
but a motion, regulated indeed, but of different forms, such
as is found in many of the heavenly bodies, is the property
of other lines; and with good reason Gilbert ridicules these,
because it is not likely that nature should have formed
wheels, which, for example, contain one or two miles in
circumference, in order that a ball of a finger’s breadth
should be sustained: for of so little magnitude does the
body of a planet appear to be, compared with those circles
round which they pretend it is to be carried.

The fifth is, that stars are parts of their sphere, as if
fixed therein by a nail. But this is most clearly a reverie
of those who deal in mathematics, not in nature, and are
so stupidly intent on the motion of bodies, that they en-
tirely forget their substances. For that fastening is a par-
ticular disposition of compact and consistent things, which
have firm cohesions, because of the pressures of the parts.
But it is utterly to be unlooked for, if it be applied to soft
or liquid substances.

The sixth is that a star is a denser part of its sphere of
action ; for the stars are not only not parts, but neither are
they denser; for they are not homogeneous with ether, and
that in degree only, but they are entirely heterogeneous,
and differ in substance; and, besides, that substance, as to
density, is rarer, and more expanded than an ethereal one.
Over and above these there are many other conceits of
equal whimsicality ; but these shall suffice for the subject
now under discussion. Again, these observations have
been made on the fanciful dicta of philosophy respecting
the heavens. But as to what respects the hypotheses of
astronomers, the refutation of them is generally without
any use; for neither are they asserted for truths, nor is
it impossible that, although they may vary and be con-
tradictory in themselves, the phenomena should equally
be preserved and harmonize. Therefore, if you please,
between astronomy and philosophy, as if linked together
by an expedient and legitimate bond, be so circumspect a
mediator, that, on the one hand, astronomy may have her
previous hypotheses, which are best adapted to ,expedite
calculations; on the other, philosophy, such as approach
nearest to the truth of nature; and so that the hypotheses

THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT. 13

of astronomy may not prejudice the truth of a thing, and
that the decisions of philosophy may be such as may easily
be explained with regard to the phenomena of astronomy.
And so much for hypotheses.

Now as to astronomical observations, which are assidu-
ously accumulated, and continually are pouring down like
water from the sky, I have a great wish to admonish men
on that head; lest, haply, that be true of them, which
is so elegantly fabled of the fly in AXsop, that sitting
on the harness of a chariot, contending for victory at the
Olympic games, cried out, “ see what dust I excite!” Just
so, any petty observation, vacillating, at one time, in the
instrument, at this, in the eye, and at that, in a calculation,
and which possibly may be a reality, on account of some
true change in the heavens, calls into existence new firma-
ments, new spheres, and new circles. And we do not make
these remarks in order that any relaxation in the taking of
observations or the study of history should take place, both
which we are of opinion should by all means be stimulated
and intently prosecuted; but only that, in rejecting or
changing hypotheses, the highest prudence and a mature
gravity of judgment be displayed.

Wherefore, having now laid open the road as to the
motions themselves, we will say a few words also as to
their nature. We have already said, then, that there are
four kinds of motions of the higher order in the heavens:
an ascending and descending motion through the whole
expanse of the heavens; a motion, to the breadth of the
Zodiac, stretching out towards south and north: a mo-
tion in the course of the Zodiac, quick, slow, progressive,
retrograde, stable; and the motion of elongation from the
sun. And let not any one object, that that second motion
of the breadth of the Zodiac or of the signs* thereof may
be referred to that great cosmical motion, since there is
an inclination by turns towards the south and the north;
which as well as the curves themselves from one tropic
to the other are alike, except that the latter motion is
merely curvilinear, but the former hath also many turn-
ings, and lies inmost at much less distances.+ For neither
hath this point escaped our consideration. But assuredly
the constant and perpetual motion of the sun in the ecliptic,
considered apart from all latitude and exclusively of the

* See note on “‘ dracones,” page 10.
t+ “ Te sinuoso in pectore fixi.”’—Pers, 5, 27, .

14 THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT.

siens of the Zodiac, which same sun does yet communicate
with the rest of the planets, as to their paths within the
tropics, does not allow us to entertain this opinion. Where-
fore we must seek for different sources of this and of the
other three motions. And these are the points, with regard
to the heavenly motions, which appear to us to be fraught
with a less degree of inconvenience. But we must see
what they may be found to deny, and what to affirm. They
deny that the earth revolves. ‘They deny that there are in
the heavens two motions from the east to different points
of the west; and they affirm one, that outstrips and conse-
quently leaves behind others. They deny any oblique circle
and its different polarity, and they affirm spiral curves.
They deny a primum mobile separated and forced asunder ;
and they affirm a cosmical consent, as it were the common
bond of the system. They affirm that a diurnal motion is
found not in the sky or heavens, but in the air, in waters,
even in what are placed on the superficies of the earth, as
far as relates to their turning round. They affirm that
that close following and cosmical rolling in fluids is their
whirling tendency to become consistent, till at length they
reach a state of perfect rest. They deny that the stars are
fixed like knots in a board. They deny that eccentric
circles, epicycles, and such like crafty devices are realities.
They affirm that a magnetic motion, or one having a power
to collect matter together, is in full vigour in the stars, by
which fire elicits fire, and elevates it. They affirm that, in
the firmament of the planets, the bodies of the planets move
and revolve quicker than the rest of the heavens in which
they are placed, which certainly revolves, but slower. They
affirm from that inequality the waves, the undulations, the
flowings and ebbings of the ethereal atmosphere of the
planets; and from them that various motions are drawn
forth. They affirm a necessity in the planets of revolving
quicker or slower, according as they may be placed higher
or lower in the heavens, and that roa the consent of the
universe. But at the same time they affirm the languor,
resulting from an incitement in their course beyond what
nature has prescribed, in the planets both of the greater
and lesser orbit. They affirm the following after the sun,
from the defective nature of weaker flames, of Venus and
Mercury; since even the moving stars, the attendants of
Jupiter, have been discovered by Galileus. But these are
matters of which we, standing as it were in the threshold

THEORY OF THE FIRMAMENT. 15

of natural history, and of philosophy, take a prospective
view—subjects which, probably, the inquirer will be better
qualified to prove, in proportion to the depth of his re-
searches into natural history. But again, however, do we
enter our protest against this fetter of intellect. In these,
as in other matters, we are sure of the correctness of our
career, though we be not so persuaded as to the station we
are entitled to hold in it. But we have mentioned these
topics during our intellectual journey lest any one should
suppose, that from a wavering judgment, or a destitution of
talent to maintain the position, we had a preference for
advocating negative questions.

Wherefore we will retain, as the heavenly natures are
wont to do (since our treatise is of them), a dignified con-
stancy.

16

THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS

OF
FRANCIS BACON, OF VERULAM,

CONCERNING THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE, OR
THE INVENTION OF THINGS AND OF WORKS.

Francis Bacon thought in thismanner. The knowledge
whereof mankind is now possessed does not extend to cer-
tainty and magnitude of works. Physicians pronounce
many diseases incurable, and often make mistakes, and fail
in the treatment of the rest. Alchymists wax old and die
in the embraces of hope. The works of magicians are
transitory and barren. The mechanical arts take but little
light from philosophy, and do but spin on slowly the little
threads of their own experience. Chance is, without doubt,
a beneficial discoverer of inventions ; but one that scatters
her favours among men in distant ages and periods. So
he saw well, that the inventions of man, which we possess,
must be counted very imperfect and immature; and that,
in the present state of the sciences, are not now to be ex-
pected, except in a great length of time; and that those
which human industry has hitherto produced cannot be
ascribed to philosophy.

He thought also, that in this narrowness of man’s power,
that is most deplorable at present, and ominous for the
future; that men, contrary to their real interest, strive to
rescue ignorance from shame, and to satisfy themselves in
this poverty. For the physician, besides the cautels of
practice (in which there are no small means of defending
the credit of his art), calls in what is, as it were, a general
cautel of art, by turning into a reproach upon nature the
weakness of his art; and, what art does not reach, that he
discharges from art upon nature, as an impossibility ;
neither can art be condemned, when itself judges. That
philosophy also, out of which the knowledge of physic,
which now is in use, is hewn, itself receives and cherishes
certain positions and opinions, which, if they be well
weighed, induce this persuasion, that nothing arduous or
powerful in nature is to be expected from art, and the hand
of man. Hence that opinion, that “ the heat of the sun or
star, and the heat of a fire differ in kind :” and that other,”

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 17

that “composition is the work of man, but mixture is the
work of nature alone” and the like; which, if they be
carefully examined, all tend to an envious circumscription
of human power, and a voluntary and artificial despair,
which rejects not only the auguries of hope, but the chances
of experiment, and cuts away all the incitements and nerves
of industry ; while they are solicitous, only, that their art
be thought perfect, and labour for a most worthless vain-
glory; namely, to have it believed that all is impossible
that is not already found. But the Alchymist, to relieve
his art, throws the blame on his own errors, accusing him-
self, either of not fully understanding the terms of the art
and its authors, which makes him attend to the whispers
of tradition and oral evidence; or else of failing in the true
proportions, and scruples, and moments of practice ; which
makes him renew infinitely his trials, under what he sup-
poses more favourable prospects. And, meantime, when
in the mazy labyrinth of experiment, he lights upon certain
inventions, either new in appearance or of some utility,
he feeds his mind with such foretastes, and displays and
magnifies them above their value, and supplies the rest in
hopes. The magician, when he finds something, as he
conceives, above nature effected, and is convinced that a
breach is once made in nature, gives his imagination wings,
and scarcely allows that the matter admits of degrees of
greater or less; wherefore he assures himself of arriving at
the highest power; not seeing that they are but subjects of
a certain and almost definite kind, wherein magic and
superstition, in all ages and countries, have had power and
played. The mechanical person, if he chances to add a
higher finish or more elegant ornament to previous inven-
tions, or to compound, and bring together into one, separate
observations ; or to couple things more commodiously and
naturally with their use ; or to produce the work in greater
or less mass and volume than has usually been the case ;
ranks himself at length among inventors. So he saw well,
that men came to sneer at the invention of new things
and arts as a vain attempt, and not to be relied on; or to
believe that important inventions are indeed extant, but
confined among a few, in the strictest silence and mystery;
or else that they descend to account those little industries
and additions, inventions. All which turns to the averting
of men’s minds from just and constant labour, and from the
working of inventions, noble and worthy of the human
race.
VOL, XV. c

18 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

He thought also, when men did set before themselves the
variety and exquisite perfection of works supplied for human
life by the mechanical arts; they are apt rather to admire
the provisions of man, than to apprehend his want; not
considering that the original observations of man and ope-
rations of nature, which are, as it were, the breath and life
of all that variety, are not many nor deeply fetched ; and
that the rest belongs to man’s patience, and the subtle and
ruled motion of his hand or instruments; and that in this
the shop is very like the library, which exhibits such a
variety of books, in which, if one carefully examine, he will
find nothing but infinite iterations of the same thing, varied
in the form and mode of treatment, but preoccupied in in-
vention. So he saw plainly, that opinion of abundance
was one of the causes of want; and that both works and
doctrines appear many, but are, when examined, few.

He thought also that those doctrines which we have, are
presented with a kind of ambition and pretension, and
come before us dressed up and in form, as if each art were
in every branch perfect and finished. For it is reduced
into such methods and divisions, as seem to embrace and
include all treatises that can possibly bear on that subject.
And however weakly the parts are filled, and destitute of
any living seeds of things; yet they carry the show and
reason of a total; and it is brought to this, that a few
writings of some received authors, yet not the best chosen,
go for the very art in its perfection. Whereas the earliest
searches for truth in better faith, and with more fortunate
event, used to throw into aphorisms or sentences short,
scattered, and unconfined by method, the knowledge which
it was their object to gather from the consideration of things,
and to store up for use; which, as they showed simple
representations of things discovered, and evident spaces and
vacancies for things not discovered, were less fallacious ;
and invited men’s talents and thoughts alike to criticism
and invention. But now sciences are exhibited in such
forms, as to claim belief, not solicit judgment, and check
with a sullen authority the generous springings of inven-
tion: so that every succession and devolution of philosophy
bears the character of master and disciple, not of inventor
and continuer; whence it necessarily follows that sciences
continue in their own steps, and never stir from their ground.
This has been done for many ages, so that what is positive
is fixed, and that which is question is kept question, and
remains wholly in the same state. And, therefore, he saw

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 19

plainly, that columns against proceeding further are firmly
and, as it were, fatally pitched; and that it is no marvel,
that that is not obtained, for which men feel neither hope
nor desire.

He thought also, that what is said of men’s despondency
or self-conceit, as far as concerns most of the pursuers of
science, is too deeply fetched, for far the greater part is
otherwise occupied. They seek knowledge either for de-
light and satisfaction, or for profit and professional emolu-
ment, or for support and ornament of the reputation: and
if these are proposed as the ends of sciences, so far will
men be from wishing that the mass of knowledge receive
an increase, that, in that stock which is at hand, they will
seek no more than what they can turn to use in the matter
before them. And if any one among so many seeks know-
ledge with an honest zeal and for its own sake, yet he will
be found to hunt rather after variety than truth. And if
he be a severer inquisitor of truth, yet that very truth will
be such as will rather explain more subtly things already
uttered, than kindle any new light. And if his heart is so
large, that he propounds to himself further discovery, he
will doubtless be most taken with that light which dis-
plays in the distance specious contemplations, not that
which shows important works and inventions close at hand.
So he saw plainly that we return to this point, that it is by
no means wonderful that the course is not finished, when
men turn aside to these lesser matters: and much more
when, as far as he can see, the mark itself has never been
set up and fixed for any man. But the mark is no other,
than that mankind be continually enriched with new works
and. powers.

He thought also, that among these difficulties of the
sciences, the case of natural philosophy has been the
hardest of all: inasmuch as it has had but a trifling share
of men’s labour, has been readily deserted, and never cul-
tivated and matured in any high degree. For since the
Christian faith has grown up and been received, the
greatest number of wits have been employed upon divinity,
and in this subject the highest rewards we been offered
to men’s studies, and aids of every kind most plentifully
supplied. And before-time, likewise, the greatest part of
the labours of philosophers was consumed in moral philo-
sophy, which was almost in the place of divinity to the
heathens. And in both times a great part of the best wits
betook themselves to public business, especially in the time

20 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

of the greatness of the Romans, who by reason of their
large empire needed the service of the most. But the time
among the Grecians, in which natural philosophy seemed
most to flourish, was but a short space, and that also
abused and thrown away in disputing, and affecting new
opinions. But from that time to this, no one can be
named, who has made it his business to cultivate natural
philosophy, and consumed his life in its pursuit; so that
this science has not for ages possessed any whole man,
unless perchance one may instance some monk studying in
a cloister, or some gentleman in the country, and that will
be found very rare. But it has become a kind of passage
and bridge to other arts, and this venerable mother of the
sciences is turned into their handmaid, and made to serve
physic and practical mathematics, or to season a little,
young and unripe wits, like a kind of priming, that they
may take a second wash in a kindlier and better manner.
So he saw plainly, that, from the small number, and hurry,
and rawness of its followers, natural philosophy is left
destitute. And soon after, he saw also that this had a
very great influence on the general state of knowledge:
for all the arts and sciences, when torn up from this root,
may perhaps be polished and moulded to use, but will
grow no further.

He thought also, how prejudicial and every way hard an
adversary natural philosophy has in superstition and the
immoderate and blind zeal of religion. For he found that
some of the Grecians who first propounded the natural
causes of thunder and storm, to men unused to such specu-
lations, were condemned, on that ground, for impiety: and
that the cosmographers, who, by most certain proofs, which
no man in his senses would now dispute, asserted the
spherical figure of the earth, and consequently the exist-
ence of Antipodes; were not much better treated, but in-
cluded in the same sentence, not indeed affecting life, but
character, on the accusation of some of the ancient fathers °
of the Christian church. And the case of natural history
is now much worse, in regard of the boldness of the school-
men and their dependencies, who having, as far as they
can, reduced divinity into method, and given it the form of
an art; have attempted moreover to incorporate the con-
tentions and turbulent philosophy of Aristotle into the body
of their religion. And it has the same tendency that, in
our time, no opinions or arguments are found to have more
success, than those which celebrate with great pomp and

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 21

solemnity the union, as if it were a lawful one, between di-
vinity and philosophy, that is faith and sense; and while
they tickle men’s minds with an agreeable variety, are
meantime making an unhallowed conjunction of divine and
human matters. And, truly, if one observes carefully, as
great danger threatens natural philosophy from this kind
of hollow and ill assorted league, as from avowed hostility.
For, in a treaty and confederation of this nature, only the
received maxims of philosophy are included; but every
thing of advancement or improvement is most rigorously
and obstinately shut out. In fine, with respect to augmenta~-
tions, and what may be called the new shores and tracts of
philosophy, all from the side of religion is full of grovelling
suspicion, and impotent disdain. Thus some in their sim-
plicity fear that any deeper inquisition into nature may
penetrate perchance beyond the allowed and sanctioned
limit of sobriety, improperly applying what is said of the
secrets of God, many of which remain closed under the
divine signet, to the secrets of nature which are guarded by
no interdict. Others, with greater cunning, conceive that
if men are ignorant of second causes, each particular may
be more easily referred to the wand of the deity, which they
think is of the highest interest to religion; though this is
no other than seeking to flatter God with a lie. Others
tremble for the precedent, lest the shifting and changes of
philosophy end with attacking religion. Others, lastly,
seem in fear that, in the inquisition of nature, something
may be found to shake religion. Both which opinions savour
of a sort of incredulity and worldly policy, but the last
cannot even be brought into doubt or question without im-
piety! From which it was sufficiently clear, that in opinions
of this kind there is much weakness, and not a little envy
and bitterness. For natural philosophy is, next to the di-
vine word, the most certain remedy of superstition, and the
most wholesome food of faith ; and is, therefore, rightly
considered the truest and loveliest handmaid of religion ;
the one displaying the will of God, the other his power.
So that he was not wrong who said: “ Ye do err, not
knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of God,” joining in
an intimate union, information of his will, and meditation
on his power. But, though this is most certain, it still re-
mains among the most effectual hindrances to natural
philosophy, that all which is pronounced by blind zeal and
superstition is considered out of the reach of dispute.

He thought also, that, in the orders and customs of

a2 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

schools, colleges, and such conventual bodies, all is found
to be adverse to the further progress of the sciences. For
much the greater part are professors, and in the receipt of
emoluments. And the lectures and exercises are so arranged
that nothing out of the common routine can easily arise in
any one’s mind. But if a man chance to use the liberty of
inquiry and judgment, he will soon find himself left in a great
solitude. And if ever he can bear this, he will yet find
that, in achieving his fortune, this industry and magnani-
mity will be much hindrance to him. For in places of this
kind men’s studies are almost confined to the writings of
certain authors; from which, if any one disagrees, or pro-
pounds matter of argument, he is immediately set down as
a turbulent person and an innovator. Though; if one judge
fairly, there is a great difference between the govern-
ment of civil affairs and the arts; for the danger is not
alike of new light, and of new notion. It is true that in
civil affairs change, though for the better, is suspected from
fear of disorder ; since governments rest on authority, con-
sent, credit, opinion, not on demonstration and truth in ab-
stract. But in the arts and sciences, as in mines, all sides
should resound with new works and further progress. And
it is so in right reason. But in real life, he saw that the
government and administration of the knowledge, which
is in use, presses cruelly, and checks the increase and growth
of science.

He thought also, that, even in the opinion and common
feeling of men, much appears on all sides that denies a fair
opening to the increase of knowledge. For most men, un-
just to the present times, hang upon antiquity, and believe
that if we, who now live had had the office of first attempt-
ing what was sought for and discovered by the ancients,
we should not have come up to their works by a great
space. And in like manner they believe that if a man even
now, relying upon his own powers, attempt to begin anew
an inquisition, the end will be, that he will either come to
the very conclusion that was approved of by antiquity ;
or else to some one, which, having been long ago decided
upon and rejected by antiquity, deservedly fell into oblivion.
Others, altogether slighting the powers of human nature
at both periods, ancient and modern, fall into a fanciful and
superstitious belief that the elements of the sciences ema-
nated from spiritual beings, and that new inventions in the
same manner may receive assistance from their authority
and concurrence. Others of more sober and chastened

INTERPRETATION OF.NATURE. 23

imagination, but greater diffidence, openly despair of any
increase of knowledge, from reflecting on the obscurity of
nature, the shortness of life, the uncertainty of the senses,
the weakness of the judgment, and the difficulties and un-
bounded variety of experiments. So that such swelling
hopes, as promise more than we now have, are the offspring
of a weak and unripened mind, and will no doubt have
their beginning in exultation, their middle course in diffi-
culty, and their end in confusion; and there is as little
hope of the reward as of the accomplishment; for know-
ledges evidently breed and expand in great and excellent
wits, but the estimation and price of them is in the multi-
tude, or in the inclinations of princes and great persons
meanly learned. So that the projection of sciences and the
judgment upon them are not in the same; whence it comes
that those inventions only succeed which are accommo-
dated to popular reason and common sense ; as happened
in the case of Democritus’ theory of atoms, which being a
little too remote was treated with ridicule. Hence sublime
views of nature, which, almost like religion, must enter the
senses of men with difficulty, may be now and then con-
ceived, but (unless proved and recommended by evident
and exceeding utility, which hitherto has not been the case)
are generally in a short time blown and extinguished by
the winds of common opinions ; so that time, like a river,
is wont to bring down to us what is light and blown up,
while it sinks and drowns that which is solid and grave.
So he saw well that the hindrances of an improved state
of the sciences were, not only external and adventitious,
but innate also and drawn from our very senses.
Moreover, he thought that the vagueness and irregular
form of words mocks the understanding and, as it were,
attacks it; for words are like coins which represent the
image and authority of the people; for they always com-
pound and classify according to popular notions and ac-
ceptation which are for the most part erroneous and very
confused ; so that even infants in learning to speak, are
compelled to suck in and swallow a pernicious system of
error. And though the wise and learned endeavour by
various contrivances to deliver themselves from this bon-
dage, by making new words which is harsh, and by insert-
ing definitions which is troublesome, they cannot, with all
their strength, throw off the yoke; so that innumerable con-
troversies, even in the most acute discussions, are raised
about words, and, what is much worse, that depraved

24 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

coinage of words reflects its rays and impressions into the
mind itself, and is thus not only a hindrance in discourse,
but injurious also to the judgment and understanding. So
he saw well, that, among the internal causes of error, he
must place this as one serious and pernicious import.

He thought also that, beside the usual difficulties of the
sciences and knowledge, natural philosophy, particularly
the active and operative, had its peculiar drawbacks and
impediments. For it has been notably hurt and discre-
dited by some of its professors, light and vain men, who,
partly from credulity, partly from craft, have loaded the
human race with promises, offering prolongation of life,
delay of infirmity, relief from pain, supply of natural de-
fects, deceptions of the senses, the binding or inciting of
the affections, illuminations of the mental powers, ecsta-
cies, transmuting of substances, unlimited multiplication
of motions, ‘impressions on the air and changes of it,
divination of future events, representations of distant oc-
currences, revelation of mysteries, and many other things.
Now, in considering these liberal givers, we shall not be
far wrong if we pass a judgment like this: that there is
as much difference in philosophy, between their triflings
and the true arts, as there is in history between the
wars of Julius Cesar or Alexander, and those of Amadis
de Gaul or Arthur of Britain. For it is evident that
those renowned generals achieved more in reality than
the other shadowy heroes are pretended to have done, but
by means and ways of action not at all fabulous or super-
natural. So that it is not just to deny credit to true his-
tory, because it is sometimes wounded and injured by
fabulous stories. For Ixion of a cloud begat the Centaurs,
yet still, of the real Juno, Jove begat Hebe and Vulcan, that
is the lovely and divine virtues of nature and art. But
though this is true, and it shows great ignorance to be
incredulous without distinction ; yet he saw well that the
access to truth was formerly shut up, or at least narrowed
by fables of this kind, and that the ignominy of vanity
even now abates all greatness of mind.

He thought also that there is found in the mind of man
a certain affection, naturally bred and fortified by some
men’s opinion and doctrine, which has checked and pre-
vented the true proceeding of natural philosophy, that is
the active and operative kind. This is a rotten and perni-
cious idea or estimation, that the majesty of man’s mind
suffers diminution if it be long and deeply conversant with
experiences and particulars subject to sense, and bound in

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 25

matter: especially as such things usually appear laborious
to search, ignoble to meditate, harsh to deliver, illiberal to
practise, infinite in number, and contemptible in their mi-
nuteness; and, though such qualities as these no ways
accommodate to the glory of the arts. And this opinion or
state of mind received much strength from another wild and
unfounded opinion, which held that truth is innate in the
mind of man, and not introduced from without, and that
the senses rather excite than inform the understanding.
Neither has this error, and (to describe it truly) delusion
of mind, been any ways corrected by those who have given
to sense the due, that is, the first place. Nay more, even
these by their example and practice, deserting altogether
natural history and actual experience, rested only upon
agitation of wit, and grovelled without ceasing among the
darkest idols of the understanding, under the specious name
of contemplation and reason. So he saw well that this
rejection and divorce of particulars has thrown the human
family into total disorder.

He thought also, that we should not make our conjecture
from the hindrances we meet with ; only, since it is possible
that the fortune of mankind may overcome these difficul-
ties and burst the barriers. Hence we must consider and
examine closely the nature of that philosophy which is
received, and whatever other, from ancient times, has been
cast upon our shores, like the spars of a sunken vessel.
And he found that the natural philosophy which we have
from the Greeks is to be accounted a kind of childhood of
science ; and that its properties are those which belong to
boys, that is, it is forward to chatter, but immature and un-
qualified for generation.

Aristotle, by commion consent the chief of that philo-
sophy, without ever meddling with the observation of
nature, has been unprofitably employed on stale opinions,
and on their comparison, opposition, and reduction. Nor
is it reasonable to hope for any thing solid from one
who has made up the world itself of categories. For
it is of little concern whether we lay down that matter,
form and privation, or substance, quality, and relation, are
the real principles: but we had best pass by those contro-
versies ; for it would be inconsistent to set about a formal
confutation, when we neither agree about the principles,
nor the modes of demonstration ; and again, to lash with
ridicule one who has obtained an authority almost dictato-
rial in philosophy, would have more levity than suits the
dignity of the subject, and be moreover arrogant. He has

26 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

certainly corrupted natural philosophy with logical subtle-
ties, which were his own creation, as he himself too loudly
boasts.

But to leave him, Plato was, without doubt, a man of
loftier genius, and one who aimed also at the knowledge
of forms, and used induction universally, not for princi-
ples only; but with reasoning futile on both sides, since
he pursued and accepted vague inductions and abstract
forms. And if we consider with attention the writings and
habits of this philosopher, we shall find that he took no
great interest in natural philosophy, at least so far only as
to vindicate his own name and character as a philosopher,
or give by its intermixture a certain majesty to his moral
and political doctrines. And he adulterated nature as much
with theology, as Aristotle with logic; and, to say the
truth, approached as near to the province of the poet as the
other to that of the sophist. Now we can draw the doc-
trines of these two from the very fountain head, their works
having survived. .

There is a different estimate to be made of the rest,
namely, Pythagoras, Empedocles, Heraclitus, Anaxagoras,
Democritus, Parmenis, Zenophanes, and others; because
we have received their opinions by means of intermediate
writers only, and by tradition, and scattered fragments ;
so that we must use closer inquisition, with greater scruple
of judgment, to make up for the disadvantage of their
circumstances. But yet he has been most diligent and
watchful to catch every whisper about these opinions, so
as to extract whatever can be found referring to them,
where they are confuted by Aristotle, or cited by Plato
or Cicero; or in Plutarch’s budget, or Laertius’ lives, or
Lucretius’ poem; or any other scattered hint or mention :
and he has examined them with impartiality and careful
judgment. And, first, there is no doubt that, if their
opinions were in their own works, they would have greater
weight; for the strength of theories lies in a nice and
mutual harmony of the parts, and a certain unbroken
demonstration; and they’ are therefore weakened when
uttered in fragments: wherefore he did not make his judg-
ment of them lightly.

He found also, among so many opinions, a number of
remarks made with some care with regard to the obser-
vation of nature, and the assigning of causes: and, as
commonly happens, some have been more successful than
others in different branches. The discoveries and opi-
nions of Pythagoras alone (though his doctrine of num-

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. at

bers imply something physical) are mostly of that kind,
which lead rather to the founding of some religious order,
than to the opening of a school in philosophy; which
the event proved: for this philosophy had more weight
in the heresy of the Manichzans, and the superstition
of Mahomet, than among men of science. The rest how-
ever were certainly natural philosophers; and there are
some of them who have dived into nature much deeper
and more acutely than Aristotle. But he busied himself,
like the Ottomans, in destroying his brothers; and suc-
ceeded in it to his wish. Now he had the same opinion of
Aristotle as of the other Greek philosophers, namely, that
such systems and theories were, like the different argu-
ments of dramatic pieces, moulded into a certain keeping
with nature, some with more nicety, others more negligently
and roughly; and that, as belongs to fiction, they appeared
more trim and symmetrical than real accounts. Nor could
the wanderings and searchings of the human mind rest or
limit themselves in those theories which were uttered and
published. For, had not the customs and affections of
men, and the pursuits of business, been adverse and blight-
ing to novelties of this kind, even in matters of contempla-
tion, many other sects would doubtless have been formed
in natural philosophy. For, as it is in astronomy with
those who decide that the earth moves ina circle, and those
who explain it by elliptical and epicyclic motion, that their
systems to account for appearances in the heavens, are
alike pleadings for a side, and amount not to conviction,
nay, even the calculations of the tables answer with each:
in the same way it would be much easier to devise various
theories in natural philosophy, all widely differing with one
another, and yet each consistent with itself, and using un-
fairly the a of popular zeal, which in questions of
this kind often guides the judgment, and drawing it over
to opposite sides.

There has indeed been no want of men who in this
age and the last have meditated new systems of natural
philosophy. For within our recollection Telesio has ap-
peared on the stage, and exhibited a new plot, not so
well rewarded with applause, as the probability of its ar-
guments merited: and Fracastoro, not long since, though
he did not set up a new sect, yet was staunch in using
liberty of judgment and inquiry: Cardan too was as bold
but less steady. Very lately also, our countryman Gilbert,
after most laboriously examining the nature of the magnet
with great sagacity and perseverance, and with a host and

28 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

almost a multitude of experiments, began forthwith to de-
sign a new school in natural philosophy ; and was not ter-
rified by the ridiculed name of Zenophanes, whose opinion
he inclined to. These then, and all who are or shall be
like them, must be ranked in the band of ancients, for there
is the same character in them all: thus they were men who
gave their opinions on few matters, and trifled with nature
without making such a close union with her as to beget
either certainty of contemplation or useful works.

It is a truth that out of so many schools of philosophy,

laboriously cultivated through such a length of years, not
one experiment can be cited, which has a view to the im-
provement or aggrandizement of the state of man, and can
be pointed to with truth as the gifts of such speculations.
On the contrary, indeed, Aristotle’s device of the four ele-
ments, which he rather gave currency to than invented
(and which being greedily caught up by physicians, drew
after it the systems of the four complexions, the four hu-
mours, and the four primary qualities), like some malig-
nant and unlucky star, caused extraordinary barrenness in
medicine, besides many mechanical arts; men all the while
allowing themselves to be satisfied with conceits and me-
thodized nothings of this kind, and carry no further. Mean-
time a multitude of questions and controversies clamoured
and fluttered on all sides round these philosophies, so that
they seem represented to the life in the fable of Scylla, who
had the upper part and countenance of a virgin, while her
womb was girt and crowded with barking monsters. In like
manner have those doctrines something specious at first sight,
but when we approach the generative part, to produce fruits,
nothing is to be found but strife and restless disputing,
which are in the room of bearing.

At the same time it must be remembered, that the reasons
for rejecting these systems assail the opinions only, not the
understandings or industry of their authors. For, in pro-
portion to a man’s wit and zeal, does he, if he desert the
light and observation of nature and the evidence of parti-
culars, plunge himself and become involved in the darkest
and most intricate recesses, and, as it were, dens of phan-
tasies and idols. Again, the general plans of the philoso-
phies are not attached with the purpose of approving the
detailed application of minor causes, which are commonly
given and inquired into in the works of philosophers of
this kind: on the contrary, these are no better than the
other, not only because they depend upon them, but also
because they display no severity of inquisition, and lead us

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 29

to matters not unknown, but almost at our feet, in which
the mind acquiesces lightly, and is satisfied, but by no
means penetrating into the interior of nature. And they
have always this fault, which is alike in all, that they con-
nect together experiments and known effects in a kind of
system, and, as it were, with a net, made to the just
measure of what is known; but never exhibit any cause
or canon, which may mark out new and formerly unknown
effects and experiments.

Having thus traversed these outskirts of philosophy, cast-
ing his eyes on every side, he turned them to the depths of
antiquity, as toa kind of clouded and dim region. And he
saw that if he chose to deal unfairly, there would be no
difficulty in persuading men, that with the ancient sages,
long before the Grecian times, natural science flourished
with greater vigour, but perhaps in greater silence: and
that it were, therefore, more dignified to refer to them those
discoveries which are now made: as new men are used to
do, who connect with themselves the nobility of some an-
cient stem by the rumours of genealogy and conjecture.
But, relying on the evidence of facts, he rejected every
form of imposture; and, whatever might be his opinion
about those times, thought that it had no more relation
to the matter in hand whether our discoveries were known
to the ancients, and in the revolution of things have sunk
and risen again; than it should be any concern, whether
_ the New World be that island Atlantis, and so known to
the ancients, or was first discovered by us. For inventions
are to be sought in the light of nature, not traced in the
shades of antiquity. Meanwhile some may remark that
he has passed over the art or philosophy of chymistry ;
which he has done from respect, being unwilling to class it
with those philosophies which are entirely barren of works,
since it has displayed and given many noble discoveries,
Indeed this art accords with the fable of the old man, who
bequeathed his sons a treasure buried in his vineyard with-
out showing them where, whereby they set themselves with
diligence to dig the vineyard, and did not find the treasure,
but, by their husbandry, the vintage was made more abun-
dant. In like manner the sons of chymistry, while they
are busy seeking the hidden gold, whether real or not, have
by turning over and trying, brought much profit and con-
venience to mankind. Yet their inventions issued in no
other or better way than the birth and advancement of me-
chanical arts, that is by mere experience. For their philo-
sophy and speculation are unsound, and harsher than those

30 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

fabulous philosophies of which we have been speaking.
For though the three principles was no useless discovery,
but partly bordering on fact: yet, for the most part, prac-
tised in a few experiments of distillation, they referred every
thing in philosophy to separation and liberation, unmindful
of true alteration. But the structure of that opinion, on
which as a foundation their philosophy rests, that there are
four matrices or elements in which the seeds and forms of
matter complete their fruits, and that these are quadriform
according to the different elements, so that nothing is found
in sky, air, water, or earth, which has not in the three re-
maining ones something parallel and corresponding: this
fantastic arrangement of matter will certainly scarce have a
place in the dreams of the skilful observer of nature. Not
unlike this are the harmonies of things believed in by the
followers of natural magic, who explain every thing by
sympathy and antipathy, and, by the most idle and un-
founded conjectures, affix to things miraculous virtues and
powers. Yet he treats them gently, because among so
many fables they have yet produced some works, though
commonly of that kind which are rather novel and sur-
prising than fit for profit and utility. But even novelty has
often the advantage of agitating somewhat the intricate
folds of nature, and assisting with light at least, if not with
deed. So he saw that, neither in the opinions of the
Greeks or the moderns, nor in the traditions of alchymy or
natural magic, could any thing be found leading to the in-
crease of human means. Wherefore all these should either
be thrown into oblivion, or given up to the pursuit of the
multitude, while the true sons of knowledge turn their
course elsewhere.

He thought also that the modes of demonstration should
be reviewed ; for demonstrations, by a certain influence are
philosophy ; and, in proportion as they are just or faulty,
complete or imperfect, doctrines will probably ensue from
them. But he found that the demonstrations which are in
use are neither full nor certain. Yet we should not blame
the senses, as some have done. For the errors of the senses
in particulars have no great effect on the sum of the sciences ;
not more at least than may be corrected by the rightly in-
formed mind. But that the mind itself, if it rely on nature
without art and discipline, is unequal to the matter and
below it, may be pronounced boldly. For it is neither so
capacious as to admit and arrange the infinite variety of
particulars necessary for information, nor so free and un-

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 31

biassed as to receive true and natural impressions without
some warp and colouring. Nay, it is very certain both
that the human mind is generally like an uneven mirror,
which receives and reflects the rays of objects according to
the angle of each facet, and not on a plain surface ; and also
that every one, from his education, pursuits, and constitu-
tion, is haunted with a kind of misleading power, and, as it
were, familiar spirit, which mocks and disturbs the mind
with various and fantastic devices. Yet we must not,
therefore, fall into the opinion of incapability. For it is
evident, that by no steadiness of hand or skill of eye, how-
ever exquisite, could an exact straight line or circle be
described; yet, on applying a ruler or turning the com-
passes, the matter is easy. Again,in mechanical crafts the
naked hand of man can work but little, yet with the aid and
means of instruments it conquers alike the vastest and most
minute. It follows then that we must fly to art, and must
look to demonstration, which is governed by art. And sen-
tence may be given in a few words on the syllogism which
is Aristotle’s oracle. It is, doubtless, a useful instrument
and aid to the understanding in sciences, which are founded
in human opinion, as the moral and political; but inferior and
incompetent tothe subtlety and obscurity of natural processes.
For the syllogism certainly consists of propositions and the
proposition of words, and words are the evidences and signs
of ideas or conceptions of the mind. So that if the ideas
themselves, which are the souls of words, are vague, incom-
plete, and not sufficiently defined (which is for the most
part the case in nature), the whole sinks. Induction remains
the last and only refuge and aid for matter; nor are our
hopes placed in it undeservedly, since it can collect labo-
rious works, and the certain evidence of facts, and lay them
before the mind. But its name only is known, its power
and use has hitherto lain hid. For induction must be
judged of thus ; in its use and form men have erred doubly.
First, that impatient of delay and searching round for short
cuts, and hastening to fix some things as certain, round
which as poles discussions might turn, they have only a

plied it to the general principles of sciences, lightly hoping
to work all within by syllogistic deduction. Secondly, that
having examined the syllogism accurately, but this demon-
stration hastily and carelessly, they have devised its form
very simple and indeed puerile, to proceed by enumeration
alone, and thus conclude precariously, not necessarily. No
one, therefore, can wonder if he, with this opinion on de-

be INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

monstrations, does not agree on natural philosophy with
others, either ancient or modern. For it cannot be (to
speak jestingly), that the drinkers of water and wine should
feel alike. For they swallow a raw fluid, either flowing
spontaneously from the mind or pumped up with some
labour; but he drinks a liquor prepared from innumerable
grapes mature and in season, plucked and heaped up in
bunches, afterwards squeezed in the winepress, purified in
the vat, and clarified; which will bear time, and at the
same time is corrected of all intoxicating quality, by neither
giving nor leaving any room for the vapours of the fancy.
So he saw that the philosophies of which we have spoken
should be rejected, not only for their barrenness of works,
but for the weakness and fallaciousness of their demonstra-
tions also, since they are not only removed from nature, but
deserted and betrayed by the very auxiliaries they have
raised.

He thought also, that we should make a separate review
of the modes of invention in use, if there be any. But in
this quarter not so much misleading and devious paths, as
solitude and vacancy, are found, which strike the mind
with a kind of stupor. It has not been the object or desire
of any man to guide the force of human wit and under-
standing to the invention and improvement of arts and
sciences, and hew a road thither; but the whole has been
and is left to the dimness of tradition, the steps and fury
of arguments, or the waves and turnings of chance and
experiment. Hence, it was not without reason, that, in
the temples of the Egyptians, who (as was the custom of
antiquity) used to deify inventors, so many images of
brutes were found; since animals without the light of
reason have “been, almost as much as men, the discoverers
of nature’s operations, nor have men in this matter made
much use of their prerogative. We must however examine
what is done. And first of the simple and untaught mode
of invention which is common with men, it is no other than
that he who girds and prepares himself for an invention,
first inquires and learns what others have said on the
subject, then adds his own reflection. But for a man to
commit himself to the guidance of others, or to intreat and
almost invoke his own spirit to give him oracles, is a pro-
ceeding without ground. Next follows the invention in
use with logicians, which has only a nominal connexion
with the matter in hand. For it is not of principles and
axioms, of which arts consist, but only of what seems

L
Pa

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 5 3

agreeable to them. For logic, with a well known response,
drives the curious and importunate, and lovers of business
to yield their faith, and as it were allegiance to some art.
There remains simple experience which, if unforeseen, is
called chance, if sought, experiment. And this is no more
than, as they say, the faggot unbound. Nay more, they
who are assiduously employed in opening and bringing to
Hee some nature or work, by a long and desultory course
of experiments, are either fixed in amazement, or run round
in giddiness, sometimes eager, at others confused; and
always find matter for further inquiry. Nor can it well be
otherwise. For it is an aimless and very foolish specula-
tion, to search for the nature of a thing in itself: for the
same nature is hidden in some, in others open, and as it
were palpable; and causes admiration in the latter, in the
former not even attention. Thus that quality of bodies
which resists separation, seems a very subtle thing, and
ingenious in bubbles of water, which for this purpose throw
themselves into thin films in the form of a hemisphere.
The same quality is little marked in stone or wood, but
goes under the name of solid. Wherefore he saw that a
certain ill fortune rather than ignorance is to be imputed to
men, since they have been drawn from the appointed path
by mischance or temptations, but, within its bounds, have
not shown themselves wanting in energy.

He thought also, that some limit must be set to despon-
dency, or at least to complaint: and that it must rather
be considered whether we are to stop altogether, and use
what we have already; or to make trial and devise some-
thing by which the matter may proceed better. And first,
it is right to mark the excellency and value of the end and
purpose, that in a dry matter and difficult attempt there
may be a greater supply of industry. And he remembered
that in ancient times, the affection and zeal of men exceed-
ing moderation, divine honours were paid to inventors.
But those who had deserved well in civil affairs, as the
founders of cities and empires, legislators, deliverers of
their countries from long standing evils, dethroners of
tyrants, and the like, reached not beyond the rank of
heroes. Nor has this distinction in old time been made
without reason, seeing that the gifts of the former fell upon
the whole human race, those of the latter upon limited dis-
tricts and patches of society: the former too pour bless-
ings on human life without violence or uproar, while the
latter are not commonly introduced but with struggle and

VOL. XY: D

34 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

tumult. Now if the utility of any single invention so
moved men, that they accounted more than man him who
could include the whole human race in some solitary bene-
fit, that invention is certainly much more exalted, which
by a kind of mastery contains within itself all particular
inventions, and delivers the mind from bondage, and opens
it a road, that under sure and unerring guidance it may
penetrate to whatever can be of novelty and further ad-
vancement. For as in the early ages, when sailors steered
their course only by observations of the heavenly bodies,
they coasted along the shores of the old continent, or ven-
tured across some small internal seas: but it was necessary
that the use of the compass should be known, as a more
certain guide of the passage, before the ocean could be
crossed and the tracts of the new world discovered: in
like manner, all that has been hitherto invented in human
arts and sciences might have been found out by instinct,
experience, observation, meditation, being more obvious
to sense: but before we may stretch across to the more
distant and secret regions of nature, it is a necessary pro-
vision, that some better and more perfect application and
management of the human mind be found out. Wherefore
such an invention as this would be, without doubt, a most
noble and truly masculine offspring of time.

Again in the Holy Scripture he saw that Solomon the king,
while in the pride of his power, his riches, his magnificent
works, his guards, his household, his exact distribution and
arrangement of slaves and domestics, his fleet moreover, the
renown of his name, and the greatest honour from men:
thought none of these his true glory, but said, that “ the
glory of God is to conceal a thing, but the glory of the
king is to find it out,” as if the divine nature took delight
in the innocent and playful sport of children, who hide
themselves that they may be found out; and from his
indulgence and graciousness to men, chose the human soul
his playfellow. And the glory of inventions is that they
raise human nature, without hurting any one (as civil
affairs commonly do), and do not press or sting a man’s
conscience, but bestow on all rewards and blessings with-
out the sacrifice, or injury, or sorrow of one. For the
nature of light is pure and harmless, it may be perverted in
its use, but not polluted in itself.

Again, taking note of the purposes and ambitions of men,
he observed three kinds of ambition, if it be allowed to give
that name to one of them: the first is of those who struggle

_ vs

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 35

fiercely to increase their sway in their own country; and
this is common and mean. The second of those who strive
to extend the sway of their country over other nations ;
which has doubtless more dignity, but not less selfishness.
The third is of those who essay to create and extend the
sway and empire of man himself or the human race over
the universe of matter; which is clearly wiser and nobler
than the others. Now the empire of man consists in know-
ledge alone, for his power is what he knows, nor can any
force burst the chain of natural causes; for nature is only
to be conquered by obeying.

He thought also and inquired what account should be
made of the value and efficacy of inventions, whether simple
and unmixed, or joined with their favours and benefits. And
in no case is this consideration more plainly suggested, than
in those three inventions, which were unknown to the an-
cients, and whose birth among us was obscure and noise-
less ; printing, gunpowder,andthecompass. For these three,
though a small number, and not remote in invention, have
changed the face of things, and the condition of the world :
the first in literature, the second in war, the third in naviga-
tion: and hence have flowed infinite mutations in the state
of things, apparent to careful observers; so that no em-
pire, sect, or star, seems to have had a stronger influence,
and, as it were, ascendant over human affairs than those
mechanical works. As to their worth, it may be best
descried if any one will reflect what a gulf there 1s between
man’s life in the most polished country of Europe, and the
rudest and most savage region of the New Indies: so
great, that man may fairly be said to be a god to man, not
only by reason of assistance and benefit, but from com-
paring their conditions. And this is not the effect of soil,
or climate, or constitution, but of arts. But the new world
of science and the new world of geography do not agree in
the old being more refined than the new: on the contrary
it is cegtain that the additions to arts must show them-
selves greatly superior to those we have, so as not only to
bend nature gently, but to conquer and enslave it, and
shake it to its foundation: for it almost always happens
that what is easy of discovery is infirm of work ; since the
roots of things of potent virtue are covered deeply. Butif
to any one given to the love and worship of contemplation,
this frequent and honourable mention of works sounds
somewhat harsh and offensive, let him be assured that he
thwarts his natural wishes; for in nature works are not

36 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

only benefits to life, but pledges of truth. And, as it is
most justly required in religion that a man should show
his faith by works, it is right also in natural philosophy
that knowledge should be proved by its works in like
manner. For truth is rather shown and. proved by the
evidence of works than by argument, or even sense. Hence
there is one and the same means of improving man’s con-
dition and his mind. So he saw that what has been said
of the dignity of the end we aim at and design, is not
strengthened, but really diminished by words.

He thought also, that what has been said of the excel-
lence of the end may appear accommodated to his wishes.
We must therefore inquire carefully what hope shines on
us, and on what side it appears: and we must be on our
guard that love of what is excellent and beautiful do not
make us lose or relax the rigour of our judgment. For it
is meet to bestow on this matter legal caution, which dis-
trusts on principle, and takes the least favourable view of
human concerns. The lighter whisperings of hope must
therefore be rejected, but those which seem to have some
stability, discussed. And in taking a view of his pros-
pects, it occurred to him, first, that what we are treating
of, by reason of the eminent nature of good, is manifestly
from God; and that in the works of God the smallest
beginnings lead to their end. He had hope also from the
nature of time: for truth is by universal consent the
daughter of time. It is a mark therefore of utter weak-
ness and narrowness of mind to attribute infinite effects to
authors, but to withhold its due from Time, the author of
authors and of all authority. Nor had he hope only in the
common right of time, but also in the superiority of our
own age. For the opinion of antiquity which men hold is
a hasty one, and not even agreeing with the name. For
the old age or more advanced period of the world is pro-
perly to be called antiquity. And in truth, as we expect a
greater acquaintance with affairs and more mature jude-
ment, in an old man than in a youth, by reason of his
experience, and his having seen and heard and thought
more; it is reasonable that in hke manner we should hope
from our own age (if it knew its own strength, and would
essay and apply it) more than from former times, being a
more advanced age of the world, and enriched to fulness
with numberless experiments and observations. Nor must
we think it little that, in those distant voyages and travels
which have been frequent in our time, much has been dis-

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 37

covered in nature which is capable of shedding new light
on philosophy. Nay, it is dishonourable to men, if in our
age the regions of the material world, that is, the earth, the
ocean, and the heavenly bodies, are discovered and dis-
played to a vast extent, but the boundaries of the intellec-
tual world are still fixed within the narrow space and
knowledge of the ancients. Even the state of Europe at
present in a political respect is not averse. England is
raised, France at peace, Spain worn out, Italy and Ger-
many in a state of inaction: so that from the power of the
greatest kings being balanced, and the condition of the
first rate nations shaken, affairs lean to peace, which is
like clear and mild weather for the sciences. Nor is the
present state of letters itself unfavourable; nay, it enjoys a
certain facility both from the art of printing unknown to
ancient times, by means of which the inventions and
thoughts of individuals glance from side to side like light-
ning: and also by reason of religious controversies, from
weariness of which perchance men have been able to turn
their minds more readily to the contemplation of the power,
the wisdom, and the goodness of God in his works. But
if any one is moved by the consent and continuance en-
joyed by the opinions of the ancients, he will find if he
jooks more carefully into the matter very few leaders, and
the rest followers only and a crowd; men, that is to say,
who have stepped from ignorance into prejudice, and have
never met in true consent, which must be after the use
of judgment. And on proper reflection, the length of time
itself shrinks into a narrow shred. For of the five and
twenty centuries with which the memory of man is ac-
quainted, scarce five can be marked out which have been
useful and productive in the increase of knowledge, and
even they have been for the most part planted and cul~
tivated with other knowledges, and not that of nature.
For there are reckoned three periods and revolutions of
opinions, one with the Greeks, another with the Romans,
the last with the western nations of Europe; the remaining
time of the world has been taken up with wars and other
pursuits, and, as far as regards the growth of knowledge,
is a barren wilderness.

He thought thus then about time. From the power
and nature of chance also he augured thus. Chance in-
deed has been, without doubt, the author of many inven-
tions, occasion being taken from the nature of things. Did
then the Promethens of New India differ from the European

38 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

in the discovery of fire, because the former have no supply of
flints ? In those things, therefore, which are at hand chance
gives inventions in plenty; in those which are removed from
common use, she travails and brings forth more sparingly,
_ but yet in all ages. For no cause can be seen why chance
should be thought to have grown old and past the time of
bearing. He thought, therefore, that if many discoveries
chance to men without seeking, and while otherwise em-
ployed, no one can doubt that if the same men were to
search, and by rule and order, not by fits and starts, many
more things must be discovered. For though it may happen
in one or two cases that some one may by chance hit upon
what has escaped him before when straining all his powers
in the inquiry, yet, without doubt, the contrary will appear
in the long run. For chance works thinly, and slowly, and
irregularly; but art constantly, and rapidly, and con-
nectedly. From those inventions also, which are already
brought to light, he thought it might be truly conjectured
about those which are yet hidden. Butsome of them are of
that kind that, before their discovery, surmises of them would
not readily come into any one’s mind. For men commonly
guess at new things by a likeness to old ones, and by ideas
learned of them, which is a very vain way of thinking, since
those things that are sought from the fountain-head do not
flow through the common channels. Thus, if some one,
before the invention of fire-arms, had described them by
their effects, and had said that a discovery was just made
by means of which walls and the strongest fortifications
might be battered and beaten down from a great distance,
men would certainly reason much and variously about mul-
tiplying the powers of casting engines and machinery, by
weights, wheels, and the like; but the idea-of a fiery wind
could scarcely occur, as what they had never seen an in-
stance of, except perchance in an earthquake or thunder-
storm which they had neglected as not imitable. In like
manner if, before the invention of silken thread, some one
had spoken thus: that there was a certain kind of thread
useful for dress and furniture, which much excelled linen
and woollen thread in fineness and, notwithstanding, strength,
and moreover gloss and softness; men would immediately
begin to think of some vegetable silk, or the delicate part
of some animal’s hair, or the feathers and down of birds, but
would never guess the fabric of a worm, and that too in such
plenty and every year. And if any one had dropped a hint
about worms, he would certainly have been ridiculed for

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE, 39

dreaming of some new works of spiders. And hence, for
the most part, those things which are still hidden in the
womb of nature have this same property that they escape
and elude the imaginations and reasonings of men. So he
thought if it check any one’s hope of new inventions, that,
by inference from those before us, he counts them either
impossible or unlikely, he should know that he is not
competent, even to wish fitly and usefully.

But again he thought that there are other things among
those discovered of a different and almost contrary nature
which lead us to think that mankind may pass by and
neglect great inventions lying close at their feet. For
although the invention of gunpowder, and silk, and the
compass, and sugar, and the like, seem to depend upon
certain properties of matter and nature; the art of print-
ing has certainly nothing which was not plain, and almost:
obvious, and gathered from what was already known. But
in this race of invention the human mind is commonly so
unlucky and awkward, that in some things it first despairs,
and shortly after despises itself; and at first it seems in-
credible that any such thing could be invented, but after
it is invented, again it appears incredible that it could have
escaped men so long. And this leads him to hope that
there yet remains a great mass of inventions which might be
gained, not only from uncovering new properties, but also
from transferring and applying those already known.

He accepted also as happy omens what he observed in the
mechanical arts and their success, especially when compared
with philosophy. For the mechanical arts, as if enjoying
a certain vital air, grow and perfect themselves daily ;
while philosophy, like a statue, is adored and celebrated,
but moves not. The former also are seen rude and com-
monly without proportion and cumbrous in the hands of
their first authors; but afterwards get new strength and
aptness. The latter is in its greatest vigour with its first
author, and afterwards declines. And the real cause of this
different success is that in the mechanical arts, the wits of
many meet together in one; but in philosophy the wits of
all are spoiled by one. For after they have surrendered
themselves they give no increase, but are employed in the
servile office of dressing and attending one. Wherefore
.every philosophy, torn up from the roots of experience from
which it first sprung and grew, becomes dead matter. And
roused by this thought he observed also, that the means of
arts and sciences are, by universal consent, empirical or

40 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

rational, that is, philosophical; but he has not yet ‘seen
these well put together and united. For the empirical, like
the ant, only collects and uses ; the rational, like the spider,
spins from itself. But the practice of the bee is midway,
which draws materials from the flowers of both garden and
field, but transmutes and digests them by a faculty of its
own. Nor is the work of true philosophy different, which
stores up the matter supplied by natural history and me-
chanical experiments, not raw in the memory, but changed
and prepared in the understanding. And he is aware that
there are some of the empirical who wish not to be held as
merely empirical, and of the reasoners who aim at seeming
industrious and plain in practice. But these have been and
are the artifices of a few, aiming at the character of each
excelling in his own sect; though, in reality, there has al-
ways been‘a division and almost antipathy between these
faculties. So he thought there was hope of excellent
effects from a close and confirmed union of them. -

He saw also with pleasure that he found an infinite expense
of wit, time, and means, which men employ in matters and
pursuits that, rightly considered, are useless ; while ifa small
part of them were turned to what is sound and useful, it might
conquer every difficulty. Nor is there any reason to fear
the multitude of particulars, since the phenomena of the

arts are but a handful to the reasonings of the mind when:

disunited and distracted from the evidence of things. Now
all this that has been said has its effect in producing hope ;
but, above all, the most certain hope is from the errors of
the time past. And (as some one said of the maladmi-
nistration of civil government) that may be the best for
the future, which is the worst on looking to the past; for if
such errors cease (and giving warning is the first step to-
wards it), there would be a very great change in things.
But if men had passed through the course of so many years,
without being able to make any progress, no hope could
remain. For then it would be clear that the difficulty was
in the matter and subject (which are out of our power), not
in the instrument (which is within it), that is in the things
and their obscurity, not in the human mind and its work-
ing. But now it appears that the way is not stopped up
by any block or barrier, but turns from the path of men:
it does, therefore, cause in some measure the fear of soli-
tude, but threatens nothing more. In fine he determined
that, if even a much weaker and less sensible air breathed
from that new continent, it should yet be attempted. For

a eae a ee

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 41

there is not the same danger in not trying a thing and not
succeeding in it; since, in the former case, the loss of a
great benefit, in the latter, of a little human labour is con-
cerned. In truth, both from what has and has not been
said, he saw well that there was suflicient hope, not only
for a diligent man to make trial, but also for a prudent and
sober one to give credit.

He thought also, that, when the desire is kindled, and
the hope formed, we must look to the means of perform-
ance. This is then what appeared to him generally in that
matter; and he thought fit to enclose and embrace it in
naked and open sentences.

He saw that things must be done entirely otherwise than ~
they are now; and therefore that the disproving of the
past is a kind of oracle for what is to come.

He thought that theones, and opinions, and common
notions, as far as can be obtained from the stiffness and
firmness of the mind, should be entirely done away with;
and that the understanding should begin anew plainly
and fairly with particulars ; since there is no other entrance
open to the kingdom of nature than to the kingdom of
heaven, into which no one may enter except in the form of
a little child. :

He thought that a body and mass of particulars both
from their number, kind, and certainty or subtilty suffi-
cient for information, might be collected and stored up,
both from natural history and mechanical experiments,
the latter especially because nature displays herself more
fully when she is held and pressed by art than at her
own liberty. He thought that this mass should be reduced
and digested into tables and regular order, that the under-
standing may be able to act upon it and perform its office ;
since even the divine word did not work upon a mass of
things without order.

He thought that we must not suddenly pass from the
particulars digested into tables, to the inquisition after
new particulars (which is nevertheless itself a useful thing,
and, like a kind of learned experience), but that we
should first proceed to general and large comprehensions,
and so far indulge the natural bent of the understanding.
But at the same time he saw that the natural but vicious
motion and impulse of the mind to jump from particu-
lars to high and general “comprehensions (such as what
are called the first principles of arts and things), and to
get at the rest by descending through the middle ones,

42 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

must be altogether checked; but the nearest comprehen-
sions must-be first drawn out and discovered, and then the
middle ones, and we must climb the true ladder by repeated
steps. For the paths of thought and understanding almost
agree with that twofold way in morals, sung by the ancients ;
for one road, smooth at the entrance, leads to pathless wilds,
the other, steep and difficult at first, ends in level road.
He thought that such a form of induction should be
introduced as should conclude generally from certain in-
stances, so that it can be proved that there cannot be
found a contradictory instance, lest by chance we pro-
nounce from fewer than are adequate, and from those which
are at our-feet ; and (as one of the ancients said) seek know-
ledge in our private worlds, and not in the public one. He
saw that that comprehension only should be approved of
and received, which was not made and fitted to the measure
of the particulars from which it was derived, but which
was rather more ample and lax, and supported its ampli-
tude and laxity by the designation of new particulars as a
sort of suretyship, lest we should stop at what is already
known, or perchance in too wide an embrace catch shadows
and abstract forms. He saw that many things beside these
should be invented to work notably, not so much to the
perfecting of the matter, as to the shortening of the labour,
and to the speeding of men’s harvest from it. And whe-
ther all this be rightly thought or otherwise, we must, if
need be, appeal from the opinions, and stand by the effects.
He thought also that what he is treating of is rather
performance than opinion, and that it lays the foundations
not of any sect or school, but of immense utility and en-
largement. Wherefore thought must be taken not only
about accomplishing the matter, but about communicating
and transmitting it, which is of equal consequence. But
he found that men minister to their love of fame and pomp
by sometimes publishing, sometimes concealing the know-
ledge of things which they think they have got; and that
they who propose what is least solid are, more than others,
used to barter what they offer in an obscure and doubtful
light, that they may more easily swell the sails of their
vanity. But he thought that he was handling a subject
which it were unbecoming to defile with any ambition or
affectation; but yet that he must needs descend to the
recollection (unless indeed he Were very inexperienced in
affairs and minds, and would begin his journey without
any search) that inveterate errors like the ravings of the

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 43

lunatic, must be subdued by art and contrivance, and are
ageravated by violence and opposition. We must, there-
fore, use prudence, and humour them (as far as we can
with simplicity and candour), that contradictions may be
extinguished before they are inflamed. For this object he
is preparing a work on nature, which may destroy errors
with the least harshness, and enter the senses of mankind
without violence; which would be easier from his not
bearing himself as a leader, but bringing and scattering
light from nature herself, so that there may be no future
need of a leader. But as time meanwhile glides away, and
he has been more engaged in business than he wished ; it
seems a long work; especially when he considers the un-
certainty of life, and pants to lay up something in safety.
It therefore seemed to him that something simpler might
be proposed which, though not uttered to the many, might
perchance at least be sufficient to preserve so salutary a
matter from abortion. And after considering the matter,
and weighing it long and attentively, it seemed to him the
best way that tables of invention, or formule of just inqui-
sition, that is, a mass of particulars, arranged for the work
of the understanding, should be offered in some subjects,
by way of an exemplar and almost visible description of
the work.. For nothing can be found to place in a clearer
light the right road or the wanderings of error; or show
more plainly that what is offered is but words: nor which
would be more carefully avoided by the man who either
mistrusted his scheme, or desired it to be caught at and
celebrated above its deserts. But, if it is not allowed him
to complete his designs, as there are nevertheless human
minds of a strong and lofty character, it may be that, even
without more assistance, taking the hint from what is
offered, they may be able to look for and master the rest of
themselves. For he is almost of opinion (as some one said)
that this will be enough for the wise, though even more
would not be for the dull. But he saw that it would be
too abrupt to begin his teaching with the tables themselves ;
and therefore that he should say something suitable by way
of preface, which he thinks he has now done, and that all
which has been hitherto said leads only thither. Lastly,
he saw that, if any good be found in what has been or shall
be said, it should be dedicated as the fat of the sacrifice to
God, and to men in God’s similitude, who procure the good
of mankind by true affection and benevolence.

G. W.

4d

OF THE
PRINCIPLES AND ORIGINS OF NATURE,

ACCORDING TO THE FABLES OF CUPID AND HEAVEN: OR, THE PHI-
LOSOPHY OF PARMENIDES, TELESIUS, AND PARTICULARLY OF
DEMOCRITUS, AS EXHIBITED IN THE FABLE CONCERNING CUPID.

Tue fables of the ancients respecting Cupid or Love
cannot be made to agree in one and the same person.
They indeed profess to speak of two Cupids of two dif-
ferent periods, the one the most ancient of the gods, the
other of a much later era. At present we will treat of the
ancient Cupid. They relate that this Cupid was the most
ancient of the gods, and therefore of all things, excepting
chaos, which is said to have been coeval with him. This
Cupid had no parent, but being united to heaven, was the
father of the gods and of all things. Some indeed would
derive him from an egg over which Night brooded. Dif-
ferent attributes are ascribed to him, so that he is repre-
sented as a boy blind, naked, winged, and armed with
darts. His chief and especial influence is over the uniting
of bodies. To him were given the keys of the earth, the
sea, and the sky. Another and younger Cupid is also cele-
brated in fable, the son of Venus. To him are ascribed
the attributes of the ancient Cupid, besides many peculiar
to himself. This fable, with the sequel respecting heaven,
seems to embrace in a concise parable the doctrine of the
elements of things and of the origin of the world, and to
agree with that of Democritus, except that it appears
somewhat closer, more reasonable, and clearer. For the
observations of that confessedly acute and accurate philo-
sopher nevertheless were of a too diffusive nature, and did
not seem to keep their proper limit, and to confine and
support themselves sufficiently. And indeed these dogmas,
which lie veiled in the parable, although better regulated,
are yet of such a nature as to appear to have come from
the mind left to itself, and not uniformly and gradually
assisted by experience; for this seems to have been the
common fault of antiquity. But it must first be remarked,
that the opinions brought forward in this part of my trea-

FABLE OF CUPID. 45

tise were the conclusions and productions of unassisted
reason, and rested on perception alone, the failing and im-

erfect oracles of which are deservedly rejected, now that
the higher and more certain light of the Divine Word has
shone upon men. That chaos therefore which was coeval
with Cupid signified the confused and disordered mass or
collection of matter. But matter itself with its power and
nature, in a word, the elements of things were shadowed
out in Cupid himself. He is introduced without a parent,
that is, without a cause: for cause is as it were the parent
of effect; and in tropical discourse nothing is therefore
more usual than for the parent to stand for cause, and the
offspring for effect. But there cannot be in nature (for we
always except God) any cause of the first matter and of its
proper influence and action, for there is nothing prior in
time to the first matter. Therefore there is no efficient nor
any thing more known to nature; there is therefore neither
genus nor form. Wherefore whatever primitive matter is,
together with its influence and action, it is sui generis, and
admits of no definition drawn from perception, and is to be
taken just as it is found, and not to be judged of from any
preconceived idea. For the mode of it, if 1t is given to us
to know it, cannot be judged of by means of its cause,
seeing that it is, next to God, the cause of causes, itself
without a cause. For there is a certain real limit of causes
in nature, and it would argue levity and inexperience in a
philosopher to require or imagine a cause for the last and
positive power and law of nature, as much as it would not
to demand a cause in those that are subordinate.

On this account the ancients have fabled Cupid to be
without a parent, that is, without a cause. And they did
so not without design. Nay, perhaps there is not any thing
more important ; for nothing has more corrupted philosophy
than the seeking after the parents of Cupid; I mean, that
philosophers have not received and embraced the elements
of things as they are found in nature, as a certain fixed
and positive doctrine, and as it were by an experimental
trust in them; but have rather deduced them from the
laws of words, and from dialectics and slight mathematical
conclusions and common notions and similar wanderings
of the mind beyond the bounds of nature. This therefore -
must be constantly in the philosopher’s thoughts, that
Cupid is without parents, lest perchance his understanding
turn aside to empty questions; because in universal per-
ceptions of this kind the human mind becomes diffusive,
and departs from the right use of itself and of its objects,

46 FABLE OF CUPID.

and, whilst it tends toward things more distant, falls back
upon those that are nearer. For when, through its own
limited capacity, it is accustomed to be most affected by
those things which occur familiarly to it, and which can
enter and strike the mind suddenly ; it comes to pass that
when it stretches itself toward those things which, accord-
ing to experience, are for the most part universal, and
nevertheless is unwilling to rest satisfied, then, as if desi-
rous of something more within the reach of its know-
ledge, it turns itself to those things which have most
effected or allured it, and imagines them to be more causa-
tive and palpable than those universals. Therefore it has
been now laid down that the first essence of things, or
Cupid, is without a cause.

We have now to inquire into the mode of this thing which
is uncaused: and the mode of it is likewise very obscure,
which indeed the fable elegantly hints in Cupid being
hatched beneath the brooding wing of night. So at least
the Inspired Philosopher saith, “ God hath made all things
beautiful in their seasons: He hath also set the world in their
heart, yet so that no man can find out the work that God
maketh from the beginning unto the end.” For the great
law of essence and nature which cuts and runs through the
vicissitudes of things (which law seems to be described in the
compass of the words “the work which God wrought from the
beginning even to the end”), the power lodged by God in
the primitive particles, from the multiplication of which the
whole variety of things might spring forth and be composed,
may indeed just strike, but cannot enter deeply the mind
of man. But that saying concerning the egg of night is
very aptly referred to those proofs by means of which our
Cupid is brought to light. For those proofs which are
concluded by means of affirmatives, seem to be the offspring
of light; thosé which are concluded by means of negatives
and exclusions, may be called the offspring of darkness
and night: and Cupid is in truth the egg sprung from
night; for all the knowledge we can gather ss ane him
comes by the way of negatives and exclusions. but a
proof gathered by exclusions has still some degree of igno-
-rance in it, and is a kind of night as to that which is in-
cluded in it: whence Democritus admirably remarked that
the atoms or seeds and their properties were like nothing
that falls under the observation of sense, and held them to
be of a dark and secret nature. He therefore pronounced
of them, “They are neither like fire, nor any other thing, the
body of which is perceptible by sense, or open to the touch.”

ee

FABLE OF CUPID. 47

And again he says of their nature, “ but it is requisite the
elements in the work of creation should put forth a secret
and dark nature, lest any contrarious and opposing principle
arise.” Therefore atoms are neither like sparks of fire nor
drops of water, nor bubbles of air, nor grains of sand, nor the
minute particles of spirit or ether. Noris the power and form
of them a something heavy or light, or hot or cold, or dense
or rare, or hard or soft, as are found in larger bodies, since
those powers and the rest of that order are compounded
and wrought together. And in like manner the natural
motion of an atom is neither that motion of descent which
is called natural, nor a motion opposed to that force, nor a
motion of expansion and contraction, nor of impulsion and
connexion, nor the rotatory motion of the heavenly bodies,
nor any other of the greater motions simply. But notwith-
standing this, in the body of an atom are the elements of
all bodies, and in the nature of an atom the beginning of
all motions and natural properties. But yet in this very
point, namely, the motion of an atom as compared with the
motion of greater substances, the philosophy of the parable
appears to differ from that of Democritus. For he is not
only opposed to the parable, but inconsistent if not contra-
dictory.in his more copious assertions on this head. For
he should have ascribed an heterogeneous motion to an
atom not less than an heterogeneous body and power. But
he out of the motions of greater substances, has chosen
- two, to ascribe them as primitive motions to atoms, namely,
the descent of heavy and the ascent of light bodies,
(which he explained: by the striking or the percussion of
the more heavy, in forcing upwards the less heavy, bo-
dies). But the parable all along preserves the hetero-
geneous, and exclusive nature it ascribes to atoms, as well
in speaking of its motion as of its substance. But the
parable further intimates that this exclusion has its limit,
for night does not brood over the egg for ever: and it is
certainly proper to the Deity, that in our inquiry into his
nature te means of the senses exclusions should not ter-
minate in affirmatives. And there is another reason for
this, namely, that after the due exclusions and negations
something should be affirmed and settled, and that the egg
should be produced as it were by a seasonable and mature
incubation; not only that the egg should be brought forth
by night, but also that the person of Cupid should be de-
livered of the egg: that is, that not only should an obscure
notion upon this subject be originated, but one that is
distinct. Thus much upon demonstrations, as far as they

48 FABLE OF CUPID.

can be given, upon the first matter, and I think in accord-
ance with the parable.

We come now to Cupid himself, the primitive matter
and its properties, involved in so great darkness; and let
us see what light the parable can throw upon it. And
here I am aware that opinions of this sort the most in-
credible have entered men’s mind. Certainly was this
danger incurred here by the philosophy of Democritus
itself upon atoms, which from its seeming acuteness and
profundity, and for its remoteness from common notions
was childishly entertained by the vulgar, but unsettled
and nearly overthrown by the arguments of other philo-
sophies which came nearer the vulgar comprehension: and
Se he was the admiration of his age, and was_ styled

entathlus for his multifarious erudition, and was deemed
by universal consent the greatest of natural philosophers,
and obtained the name of a wise man. Nor could even
the opposition of Aristotle (who like the Ottomans could
not feel firm upon his throne until he had murdered his
brother philosophers; and who was solicitous, as appears
from his own words, that posterity should not doubt his
dogmas) effect by his violence, nor the majesty of Plato
effect by reverence the demolition of this philosophy of
Democritus. But whilst the dicta of Aristotle and Plato
were celebrated with applause and professorial ostentation
in the schools, the philosophy of Democritus was in great
repute amongst the wiser sort, and those who more closely
gave themselves to the depths and silence of contemplation.
It kept its ground and was approved in the era of Roman
letters ; for Cicero every where makes mention of him with
perfect approbation ; and soon after we read the panegyric
of the poet, who appears to echo after the manner of the
poets the sentiment of his times, whose wisdom shows that
in a land of dulness and beneath a Beeotian sky, the greatest
and the most illustrious men can spring up. (Juv. Sat.
10. v. 48.)

Neither Aristotle therefore nor Plato, but Genseric,
Attila, and the barbarians were the ruin of this philosophy.
For then, after that human learning had suffered ship-
wreck, those records of the Aristotelian and Platonic phi-
losophy as being lighter and more inflated matter, were
preserved and came down to our times, whilst the more
solid sank and went into oblivion. I cannot but consider,
on the other hand, the philosophy of Democritus worthy
of being rescued from neglect, especially since it agrees in

é

FABLE OF CUPID. 49

most things with the authority of antiquity. In the first
place then, Cupid is described as a certain person, and to
him are attributed infancy, wings, arrows, and other attri-
butes, concerning which we will afterward speak sepa-
rately. But this we assume in the meanwhile, that the
ancients laid down the primitive matter (such as can be
the origin of things) with a form and properties, not ab-
stract, potential and informal. And certainly that matter
which is stripped and passive seems altogether an inven-
tion of the human mind, and to have sprung thence, for
those things are mostly present to the human understand-
ing which it most imbibes, and with which itself is most
moved. Hence it is that forms as they are called seem to
exist more than either matter or action, because the one is
hid, the other glides before us; the one is not so strongly
impressed, the other constantly inheres. But forms on
the other hand are deemed evident and lasting, so that the
primitive and common matter seems as it Were an acces-
sory, and to be in the place of a support to them; but
every sort of action only an emanation from the form, and
forms therefore to be in every respect worthy of the higher
rank. And hence also seems to be derived the kingdom of
forms and ideas in essences, by the addition of a kind of
phantastic matter. Some things moreover have grown out
of this superstition; (from want of judgment having, as
might have been expected, followed this error) abstract
ideas and their powers have been introduced; with such
confidence and authority that this troop of dreamers had
nearly overpowered the more sober class of thinkers. But
these follies have for the most part disappeared, although
one person in our age, with more daring than advantage,
made it his endeavour to raise and prop them up when
they were of themselves on the decline. I think however
that it can to an unprejudiced person be easily shown
how, contrary to reason, abstract matter was made into an
element. It arose thus; men supposed that forms endued
with action subsisted by themselves, but none thought that
matter thus subsisted by itself; not even those who con-
sidered it an element; and it seemed unreasonable and
contrary to the nature of an inquiry upon the elements of
things to make entities out of mere imaginations. “And it
is not our object to search how we can most conveniently
conceive of the nature of entities or distinguish them, but
what are in truth the first and simplest possible of all enti-
ties, from which all others are derived. But the first ones
VOL, XV. E

50 FABLE OF CUPID.

ought no less to possess a real existence than those which
flow from it; rather more. For it has its own peculiar
essence, and from it’come all the rest. But the assertions
that have been made respecting abstract matter are as
absurd as it would be to say that the universe and nature
were made out of categories and such dialectic notions, as
out of elements. For the difference is by no means im-
portant between asserting that the world sprang from mat-
ter and form and privation, and asserting that it arose out
of substance and the contrary qualities. But almost all
the ancients, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Anaximenes, Hera-
clitus, Democritus, though disagreeing in other respects
upon the prime matter, joined in this, that they held an
active matter with a form, both arranging its own form and
having within itself the principle of motion. Nor can any
one think otherwise without leaving experience altogether.
All these then submitted their mind to nature. But Plato
subjected the world to his contemplations, and Aristotle his
contemplations to terms: for the studies of men were at
that time verging toward logomachies and . disputations,
and leaving the severer investigation of truth. Wherefore
dogmas of this nature are rather to be condemned in the
mass than refuted in detail. For they come not from a
desire of knowledge, but of much speaking: and that
abstract matter is not the matter of the universe, but matter
for disputation. For a true philosopher will dissect not
sever nature (for they who will not dissect, must pull her
asunder), and the prime matter is to be laid down joined
with the primitive form, as also with the first principle of
motion, as it is found. For the abstraction of motion has
also given rise to innumerable devices concerning spirits,
life, and the like, as if there’ were not laid a’ sufficient
ground for them through matter and form, but they de-
pended_on their own peculiar elements. But these three
are not to be separated, but only distinguished, and matter
is to be so treated (whatever it be) in regard of its adorn-
ment, appendages, and form, as that all kind of influence,
essence, action, and natural motion may appear to be its
emanation and consequence. Nor need we fear that from
this that inquiry should stagnate, or that variety which we
perceive should become ee of explanation, as will
be shown hereafter. And that the first matter is pos-
sessed of form the parable teaches in making Cupid a
definite person. Yet so that matter in the mass was at
first without form: for chaos is without form, Cupid is a

FABLE OF CUPID. ey

person. And this perfectly agrees with Holy Scripture.
For it is not written that.God created in the beginning
the matter of chaos, but the heavens and the earth.

There is also subjoined a description of the state of
things as it was before the work of the days, in which dis-
tinct mention is made of the heaven and earth, which are
the names of forms, but yet that the mass according to the
whole was without form. But Cupid is introduced into the
parable personified, yet so as that he is naked. Therefore,
after those who speak of matter as abstract, they err next:
(though in a contrary way), who speak of matter as not un-
clothed. And on this topic I have inserted some remarks,
in treating upon what kind of proofs are suited to the sub-
ject of the first matter, and upon the heterogeneous nature
of the first matter. But the proper place for this subject,
upon which we shall now enter. We will examine, there-
fore, who of those who attributed the origin of things to
matter endowed with form, held a native and bare form of
matter, and who, on the other hand, a form spread over it
and shapen. There are, in all, four sects of those who have
hazarded opinions on this subject.—The first is of those
who maintain one element of things, but set up a diversity
of entities in the unfixed and distributable nature of the same
element.—The second is of those who maintain an element
one in substance, and that fixed and invariable, but derive
a diversity of entities through the various magnitudes,
figures, and positions of this kind of element.—The third
is of those who maintain more elements, and a diversity of
entities on the ground of their temperament and commixture.
The fourth, of those who lay down an infinite or, at least,
very numerous body of elements of things, but with their
species and forms; and these have no need of inventing some-
thing to lead things to a various principle, seeing they already
separate nature from a primitive element. Among these only
the second sect seems to me to set forth Cupid as he is,
native and unclothed. The first introduces him as veiled,
the third with a coat, the fourth with a cloak and mask.

For the better explication of the parable, I will make
a few remarks on each. In the first place, then, of those
who have laid down but one first element, I find none
who affirm that of the earth. The nature of the earth in-
deed was against it; quiet, and senseless, and inactive, but
yielding to the influence of the heavens, of fire, and other
things; so that none thought of asserting this of the earth.
Yet the wisdom of the ancients assigned to the earth the

2 FABLE OF CUPID.

oO

next place after chaos, making it first the parent, then the
bride of the heaven, from which union proceed all things.
But we are not to suppose from this, that the ancients ever
thought of the earth as the principle of essence, but as the
element or rather origin of the system. We, therefore,
leave this subject to the parable on heaven that. follows ;
where we will inquire into the origin of things, which in-
quiry comes after that of their elements.

Thales made water the prime element. For he saw that
matter was mostly disposed in moisture, and that in water.
But he deemed that it was right to make that the element
of things in which the virtues and powers of entities, espe-
cially the elements of generations and renovations, were
mostly found. He remarked that the generating of animals
was by moisture, and that the seeds and kernels of plants,
as long as they vegetated and were not dried up, were moist
and tender. He remarked that metals melted and flowed,
and were, as it were, the thickened juices of the earth, or
rather a kind of mineral waters. He remarked that the
earth itself was enriched and renewed by showers or the
irrigation of rivers ; and that the earth and loam seemed
nothing but the dregs and sediments of water; but that
the air was very evidently the expiration and expansion of
water, and that fire was not conceived of itself, nor altoge-
ther continued, or was kept alive of itself, but from and
through moisture; and, moreover, that that fat of moisture,
in which the fire and flame are supported and live, appeared
a kind of maturity and concoction of water ; and that a
body and mass of water was spread through the whole as
a common fuel; that the sea surrounded the land; that
there was a very vast and subterraneous force of sweet
waters, whence come springs and rivers which, like veins,
carry the waters through both the face and bowels of
the earth; and that in the heights above were immense
congregations of vapours and waters, and, as it were, ano-
ther universe of waters, for the reparation and renovation
of the waters below, and of the sea. He, moreover, thought
that those waters and vapours fed the heavenly fires, for that
those worlds could not subsist without some nourishment,
and that this was the only nourishment that they could
possess. He remarked that the figure of water, as seen in
drops or particles of water, was that of the universe, round
and spherical, and that the undulation of water was apparent
even in air and fire; lastly, that the motion of water was
suited to its nature, neither too slow nor too quick, and of

FABLE OF CUPID. 55

all generations the most numerous was the generation of
fishes and water-animals. But Anaximenes chose air for
the one sole element. For if bulk is to come into consi-
deration in treating upon the elements of things, air seems
by far the most bulky, and to occupy the greatest space.
For unless a separate vacuum be given, or the superstition
of the heterogeneous nature of the heavenly and sublunary
bodies be resorted to, whatever is extended from the globe
of the earth to the furthest region of the heavenly expanse,
and is neither star nor meteor, seems to be filled with aerial
substance. »And the abode of this earthly globe is thought
to be as a point in comparison of the circuit of the heavens,
But in the ether itself, how very small a portion is be-
sprinkled with stars, when in the nearer spheres they are
seen single, in the last, although there is a great number of
them, yet, considering the interstellar spaces, but a small
part of space seems to be occupied by stars; so that they
all appear to swim in one immense sea of ether. Nor is
that part of ether and spirit inconsiderable, which has its
seat and settlement in the waters and the hollow places of
the earth, whence the waters receive their tides. They are,
moreover, extended, and swell; but not only has the earth its
porousness, but also its tremors and agitations, evident signs
of wind and air pent up within it. But if a middle nature
is proper to elements, in order to the being susceptible of so
great a variety, that is certainly found in air. For air is, as
it were, the common bond of things, not only because it is
every where close at hand, and takes the place of other
things, and possesses itself of void spaces, but so much the
more from its appearing to havea middle and a diaphorous
nature. For this is that body which receives and conveys
light, darkness, and the tints of all colours and shades;
which, by its admirably nice motion, discriminates the im-
pressions and notes of harmonic and, what is by far more
remarkable, of articulate sounds, which enters without con-
fusing the differences of scents, not only those general ones
of pure and fcetid, of dull, acute, and the like, but also the
peculiar and specific, as of the rose or the violet; which
accommodates itself equally to those remarkable and very
powerful qualities of hot and cold, also of wet and dry, in
which aqueous vapours, dense fogs, spirits of salts, fumes
of metals fly suspended in the height; lastly, in which the
rays of light and the closer agreements and variances of
things move and make a noise ; so that the air is, as it were,
a second chaos, in which so many seeds of things move,

54 FABLE OF CUPID.

wander, try their powers, and are tried. Lastly, if you con-
sider its genial and vivifying power, which conducts you to
the elements of things and manifests them, they seem to be
also the more excellent parts of the air, so that the words
air, spirit, and life, are often used as if they were synony-
mous. And, with reason, since some degree of respiration
seems the inseparable companion of life a little more
advanced (excepting those little beginnings of life in em-
bryos and in eggs), so that fishes are suffocated by the
congealing of water. Also fire itself, unless kept alive by
the surrounding body of air, is extinguished, and seems
only worn out air irritated and inflamed ; as water, on the
other hand, can appear to be the conjunction and reception
of air. Nor is there any necessity to maintain that the
earth constantly exhales the air, nor that it passes through
water into the form of air: But Heraclitus, who was more
acute, but not so much to be relied upon, held fire to be
the element of things. For it was not a middle nature,
which is wont to be extremely uncertain and corruptible,
but the highest and most perfect nature, which is a consi-
derable bound, as it were, to corruption and change, which
Heraclitus sought for instituting the origin of things. Now
he saw that the greatest variety and perturbation of things
was found in solid and consistent bodies. For such bodies
can be organic and, as it were, a kind of machines, which
acquire innumerable variations according to their shape, as
the bodies of animals and plants. Even among these, such as
are not organic upon a closer inspection, are found to be very
dissimilar. For how great is the dissimilarity between those
very parts of animals which are called similar? the brain,
the chrystalline humour, the white of the eye, the bones,
membranes, cartilages, nerves, veins, flesh, fat, marrow,
blood, sperm, breath, chyle, and the rest ; also between the
parts of vegetables, roots, barks, stalks, leaves, flowers, seeds,
and the like? But fossils are not certainly organic, but yet
are variously mixed together in one kind, and show mutually
a very great variety. Wherefore that base of the diversity
of entities, so vast, so broad, so extended, in which so vast
an apparatus of things is manifested and is constantly pre-
sent, seems to be fixed in a solid and constant nature.
But the power of formation seems plainly to desert the
bodies of liquids. For there is not found in all nature one
animal or plant in a body of mere fluid. That infinite
variety of form therefore is cut off and taken away from
the nature of liquid. No small variety however does

FABLE OF CUPID. ~ 55
remain, as is clear in the so great variety of fusibles, juices,
distilled bodies, and the like. But in aerial and pneumatic
bodies a much greater variety is enclosed, and there seems
drawn over them a somewhat promiscuous similitude of
things. That influence indeed of colours and_ tastes, by
which liquids are in some instances distinguished, ceases
indeed altogether here; but that of scents and of some other
properties remains yet, so as that they pass through, are
confused, and do not inhere; so that on the whole variety
disappears in proportion as we approach the nature of
fire. But after we are come to the nature of fire, and that
rectified and purer, every organ, every peculiar property,
every dissimilarity is put off, and nature seems to coalesce
as it were in a pyramidal point, and to have reached the
limit of its own proper action. Heraclitus called therefore
the kindling of fire peace, because it made nature one; but
generation war, because it made it manifold. In order
therefore to explain by some means the manner in which
things ebbed and flowed as a stream, from variety to sim-
plicity and from simplicity to variety, he supposed fire was
condensed and then rarified, yet so as that that rarifying
toward the nature of fire should be the direct and pro-
gressive action of nature; but the densation as it were a
receding from and leaving of nature. He thought that
both took place by fate and at certain periods, (according
to the sum), so that there would be at some time or other a
conflagration of the world, which is now moved in its orbit,
and then a renovation, and so on successively for ever.
But he held a diverse order of incension and extinction, if
any one is well versed in that slight remain of information
concerning him and his opinions which hath descended to
our time. But in the scale of incension he in no way dif-
fered from the usual and well known opinion, that the
progress of rarification and extenuation was from earth to
water, from water to air, from air to fire: but he did not
hold the same return, but plainly inverted the order. For
he asserted that fire brought out earth through extinction
as a kind of dregs and soot of fire; that they next con-
ceived and collected moisture, whence came the flowing
forth of water, which again emitted and breathed out air,
so that a sudden not a gradual change is made from fire to
water. And these or better notions did those conceive
who asserted one element of things, looking upon nature
simply not for the sake of strife. And they are indeed to
be praised, because they ascribed but one vest to Cupid,

56 FABLE OF CUPID.

that which approaches nearest to bareness, and as it were
a veil of the thinnest and lightest kind. But by the vest
of Cupid I mean a certain form attributed to primary mat-
ter, which is asserted to be substantially homogeneous
with the form of some one of the secondary entities. It
will be easy to prove that the assertions we have recited
respecting water, air, fire, are groundless, and here we can
take them by the genus, and not severally by the species,
into consideration. In the first place then the ancients did
not inquire with accuracy into the nature of elements, but
only made it their object to find out the chief virtues of
those bodies that were clearly under the senses, and those
virtues they supposed were the elements of things, through
a seeming not a real and true superiority of nature. For
they thought that such a nature was worthy of being said
to be solely that which it appeared: but every thing else
they held to be the nature itself, though by no means
according with the appearance ; so that they seem to have
spoken metaphorically or to have been under some fasci-
nation, since the more powerful impression drew the re-
maining properties after it. But a true philosopher would
look with equal attention to all the circumstances, and
would consider those to be the elements of things which
agreed with the very least and fewest and the most soli-
tary of entities, and not only with the greatest, most
numerous, and most prolific. For although we men are
most struck by those entities which mostly meet our sight,
the bosom of nature is open to them all. But if they hold
that their opinion of an element, not on account of supe-
riority of nature but simply, they seem indeed to fall into
the adoption of a harsher figure; since the thing is plainly
made equivocal, and their assertion cannot be predicated
either of natural fire, air, or water, but of a certain phan-
tastical and notional fire (and so of the rest), which retains
the name without the definition of fire. They seem too
forced into the same difficulties with those who assert
abstract matter. For as they introduce an entire, so do
these a partial, potential, and phantastic matter. For they
lay down matter in one respect (as, that is, their supposed
element) with form and action; in other respects only
potential. Nor is any thing gained by this kind of sole
principle more than by the supposition of abstract matter,
unless it be deemed an advantage that it is entertainable
by the comprehension of man, in which human contem-
plation is more fixed and acquiesces, and through which
the notion of the element itself is made somewhat fuller,

re

FABLE OF CUPID, 5F

but as to-every other circumstance more difficult and ab-
struse. But predicaments did not rule then, so as that
this element of abstract nature might lie hid under the
protecting tutelage of the predicament of the substance.
No one dared therefore to feign a kind of matter entirely
phantastic, but decided upon a principle according to per-
ception, a certain true ens; but yet (proceeding in this
respect too far) the mode of its distribution phantastic.
For they find nothing, nay, they do not feign any thing by
which, by an appetite or incitement, or in any way, me-
thod, or guidance, this their element may degenerate from
itself and again return to itself. But when throughout
the universe there appears so great an army of contrary
powers, density, rarity, heat, cold, ight, darkness, anima-
tion, inanimation, and of many others which contend with
each other and fall into privation or nothingness, to sup-
pose that all these flow from one and the same fount of a
material nature, and yet not to point out any way in which
this can take place, is the part of a mind overcome by dis-
traction, and seems a departure from the spirit of true
inquiry. For if the thing were clearly made out by sense
it were to be borne with, though the mode of it were
involved in obscurity; again, if by the strength of reason
any suitable and credible mode could be searched out, one
might learn perhaps from appearances; but our assent is
by no means to be demanded to the existence of entities,
neither evident to the senses nor admitting of any probable
elucidation from reason. Besides, if there were but one
element of things, there ought to be seen in all things
some signs of it, and certain more excellent parts, and a
certain preeminent quality in their nature. It ought
moreover to be in open sight, that it might the more easily
be accessible to all things, and might diffuse itself through-
out its orbit. But none of these things can be made out
from their dogmas. For the earth, which is cut off from
the honour of being deemed an element, appears to receive
and cherish natures opposite to these three principal, see-
ing that to the mobility and lucid nature of fire it opposes
the natures of rest and darkness; to the tenuity and soft-
ness Of air, in like manner, the natures of density and
hardness; and to the humidity and yieldingness of water,
a nature dry, stubborn, and rough, and the earth occupies
a middle rank, the rest being denied this claim. Moreover
if it were the only principle of things, it ought to have
a natural fitness equal to both the generation and dissolu-
tion of things. For it as much belongs to the nature of an

58 FABLE OF CUPID.

element that things should be dissolved into it as that they
should be produced out of it. But this is not the case:
but of those bodies air and fire seem quite incapacitated
from administering any generating material, and only to
be adapted to the receiving of bodies resolved into them.
But, on the other hand, water is very favourable and con-
ducive to generation, but with respect to resolution or
restoration of bodies the reverse; as would be easily per-
ceptible, if showers cease a little while. Nay, putrefac-
tion itself by no means reduces things to pure and raw
water. But this was by far their greatest error, that they
made an element of that which is corruptible and mortal.
This they do, when they introduce an element which lays
down and leaves its own nature in its compounds. For
“ whatever by undergoing change departs from its proper
limits, this change is forthwith the death of that thing
which it, was before.” But we shall need to take this into
our account more when we have come to the proper place
for considering the third sect, which held more elements
than one, which sect has at once more strength and more
prejudice. We will therefore treat of these opinions seve-
rally and not in the mass.

Of those, then, who asserted a plurality of elements we
will place by themselves such as make them also infinite.
For the consideration of infinity pertains to the parable of
the heaven. But of the ancients Parmenides held two
principles, the fire and the earth, or heaven and earth.
For he asserted that the sun and stars were true fire,
pure and limpid, not degenerate as our fire, which, like
Vulcan after his fall, is the worse for its transmission.
These opinions were brought up again in our age by Tele-
sius, who was deeply versed in the peripatetic system (if,
indeed, there can be said to be system in it), which yet he
turned against itself; but unhappy in the stating of propo-
sitions, and more able to pull down than to build up. There
are indeed but very shght and sparing memorials left us of
the conceptions of Parmenides. But we see the founda-
tions of a similar opinion obviously laid in Plutarch, “ De
primo frigido,” which seems to be taken from an ancient
work then in being, but now lost. For they contain not a
few opinions more acute and solid than the authors gene-
rally were ; and by these Telesius seems to have been roused
both to catch them up with earnestness, and to pursue them
with vigour, in his commentaries on the nature of things.
These are the dogmas of this sect: that the first forms and

a

FABLE OF CUPID. 59

first entities are active, and that so the first substances also,
cold and heat; that these nevertheless exist incorporeally,
but that there is subjoined to them a passive and poten-
tial matter, which has a corporeal magnitude, and is equally
susceptive of either nature, itself at the same time void of
all action: that light is the budding forth of heat, but of
heat scattered, which, being multiplied by coition, is made
firm and sensible; that darkness is, in like manner, the
destitution and commingling of nature radiating from cold ;
that rarity and density are the textures, and, as it were,
the webs of heat and cold; but that heat and cold produce
and manufacture them, as it were, cold by condensing and
thickening the work, heat by widening and extending it:
that from such kind of textures is put into bodies a dispo-
sition of their parts toward motion, either suitable to motion
or somewhat averse to it, in the thinner bodies prompt and
naturally fitted to motion, in the denser inclining to torpor
and averse to it: that heat therefore excites and effects
motion through a rarified space, and that cold represses
and stops motion through a dense space: wherefore say
they there are four coessential natures and conjoined, and
those twofold, preserving that order mutually which I have
mentioned (for heat and cold are the sources, the others are
emanations), yet that, nevertheless, they are ever concomi-
tant and inseparable: that those four natures are heat,
light, rarity, and motion: that again, there are four opposed
to these ; cold, darkness, denseness, and immobility: that
the seats and regions of the first conjugation is in the hea-
ven, the stars, and especially in the sun; for that the heaven
from its surpassing and pure heat, and from its matter
mostly extended, is the hottest, most clear, and most rare,
and highly inclined to motion; that the earth, on the other
hand, owing to its pure and unbroken cold, and from its
matter being mostly contracted, was the most cold, dark,
and dense, utterly motionless, and altogether unsuited by
nature to motion ; but that the heights of heaven preserve
their nature entire and unhurt, admitting some diversity
among themselves, but altogether removed from the vio-
lence and attack of a contrary: that there is the same con-
sistency through the lower parts of the earth, that only the
extreme parts where there is a nearness and meeting of the
contraries is uneasy, and suffers opposition from the mutual
quarter; that so the heaven is in its whole mass and sub-
stance full of heat, and entirely free from every contrary
nature, but unequally, being in some parts more, in others

60 FABLE OF CUPID.

less heated: that the body of the stars is more intensely
hot, the interstellary space less so: and, moreover, that
some stars are more endued with heat than others, and are
of a more vivid and darting kind of fire; yet so as that the
contrary nature of cold, or any degree of it, never pene-
trates thither; for that the body of the stars receive a
diversity, but not a contrariety of nature: and that no judg-
ment can be formed from common fire of the heat or fire of
the heavenly bodies, which is pure, and in its natural state ;
that our fire is indeed remote from its own natural place,
-tremulous, surrounded with contrary influences, of a low
nature, requiring, as it were, nourishment for its very ex-
istence, and wandering about, but that being placed in the
heavens, disjoined from the impetus of any contrary force,
it kept its own place, was preserved out of its own power,
and out of that of similar influences, and preserved its own
proper course of action in freedom and unmolested. Also
that the whole heaven was full of light, though not in the
same proportion throughout. For since of the stars that

are known and can be reckoned up, some which can only

be seen when the heavens are unclouded, and since there
are in the galaxy clusters of little stars which by their
union give forth a white appearance but do not seem dis-
tinct bodies of light, none can doubt that there are very
many stars invisible to us, and that so the whole of the
heaven is one body endowed with light, though not with
light so strong and darting, nor with rays so deep and con-
densed as to pass beyond such vast distances, and to reach
our sight. And he held that the whole heaven was of a
thin and subtle substance, and that there was nothing in
it that was crowded together, nothing forcedly compact,
but that in this region matter was more expanded, in that
less. Lastly, that the motion of the heaven was such as
most suited a moveable body, conversive or rotatory, for
the circular motion is without a bound, and that for its
own sake, as it were, this motion is in a right line, to a
limit, and to some object, and as if for the purpose of at-
taining rest. That, therefore, the whole heaven was borne
along by a circular motion, and that no part of it was
without this motion, but that, nevertheless, as in the heat,
light, and subtlety of the heavenly nature there exists
inequality, so it is also seen in the motion of the heavens,
and the more clearly since it admits more of human obser-
vation, and can even be measured.

But that orbicular motion can differ both in its speed and

a

FABLE OF CUPID. 61

in its course ; in speed so as to be either quicker or slower, in
its course so as to bein a perfect circle, or to have somewhat
of a spiral direction, and not to restore itself plainly to the
same bound (for a spiral line is compounded of a right line
and a circle), and that so the heaven is subject to variety of
speed, and to deflection from recovery of itself, or to a
spiral course. For both the fixed stars and the planets are
of unequal speed, and the planets evidently turn from tropic
to tropic, and the higher the heavenly bodies are, the greater
speed they acquire and the nearer compass. For if the
phenomena are taken simply, and as they appear, and there
be laid down one diurnal motion in the heavens, simple
and natural, and that mathematical beauty of reducing
motions to perfect circles be rejected, and spiral lines re-
ceived, and those contrarieties of motions in consecutive
order from east to west which they call the motion of the
primum mobile, and again from west to east, which they
call the planetary motion, are reduced to one, by still keep-
ing the difference of the time in the return through over
haste, and through leaving of the course to the difference
as to the smoothness of the zodiac through the windings,
it is plain that it will take place which I have said: for
instance, that the moon, which is the lowest of the planets,
will go the most slowly in a curve the least deep, and
most expanded. And there may seem to this sect to be
(on account of the distance from the opposite side) a firm
and constant kind of nature of this portion of the heaven.
But Telesius does not clearly lay down whether he pre-
served the ancient bounds so as to conceive that whatever
was situated above the moon was the same with the moon
itself, or whether he thought that an opposing power as-
cended higher. But he held a portion of the earth (which
is the seat of an opposite nature) to be in the same way
quite of an unmixed and solid nature, and impenetrable
by heavenly influences. But he considered that there was
no reason for inquiring into the nature of that portion, only
that it was endowed with these four natures, cold, darkness,
density, and rest, and those perfect, and no way impaired.
But he assigns.to the generation of things the part of the
earth toward its surface as a kind of bark or incrustation,
and that all the entities which have come to our knowledge
in any way, even the heaviest, hardest, and the lowest down,
metals, stones, the sea are produced from the earth, subdued
in some part by the heat of the heaven, and which has
already conceived somewhat of heat, radiation, tenuity, and

62 FABLE OF CUPID.

mobility, and which partakes of a middle nature between
the sun and the pure earth. It is requisite, therefore, that
that pure earth be placed lower than the bottom of the sea,
than minerals, and every thing that is generated: and
that from that pure earth, even to the moon, or perhaps
higher, there be placed a certain middle nature, proceeding
from the temperaments and refractions of the heaven and
earth. But having sufficiently fortified the interior of
both kingdoms, he proceeds to the march and to the war.
For in the space within the outermost region of heaven and
the innermost of earth, is all kind of tumult, and conflict,
and horror; as it is with empires, the borders of which are
infested with incursions whilst the interior provinces enjoy
profound peace. That so these natures with their concre-
tions have the power of incessantly generating and multi-
plying themselves, and of pouring themselves on every side,
and of occupying the whole bulk of nature, and of mutually
opposing and invading each other, and of casting one the
other from their proper seats, and of establishing them-
selves in them; that they also have the power of another
nature and its actions, both those that are proper to per-
ception and apprehension, and that from this kind of
perception they have the power of moving and adjusting
themselves; and that from this conflict is deduced the
whole variety of all entities, actions, and influences. But
it seems elsewhere to have ascribed to it, though rather by
the way and hesitatingly, somewhat of the property of
matter; first, that it should not admit of increase or dimi-
nution through forms and active entities, but should be
made up of one whole: then, that the motion of gravity or
descent should be referred to it. He moreover inserts
something on the blackness of matter: but that he does
plainly; that heat and cold by the same force and power
remit their strength in extended matter, expand it in con-
tracted, since they do not fill their own measure but that
of matter. But Telesius devises a method by which to
explain the rise of so various a fecundity of entities out of
this discord. And first he has regard to the earth, though
the inferior element, and shows why it is that it has not
been and never will be absorbed and destroyed by the sun.
The chief reason he makes to be the immense distance of
the earth from the fixed stars, sufficiently great from the
sun itself, and such as it should be, well proportioned in
measure. Secondly, the declination of the sun’s rays
from the perpendicular respect being had to the different

FABLE OF CUPID. 63

parts of the earth, that for instance the sun should never
be vertically above the greater part of the earth, or the
falling of his rays perpendicular; so that it can never
occupy the whole globe of the earth with any very powerful
body of heat. Thirdly, the obliquity of the sun’s motion in
its passage through the zodiac, respect being had to the same
parts of the earth whence the heat of the sun, in whatever
power it is, is not incessantly increased, but returns by
greater intervals. Fourthly, the celerity of the sun in
respect of his diurnal motion which accomplishes so great
a course in so small a space of time, whence arises a less
delay of heat, nor is there any moment of time in which
the heat may settle. Fifthly, the continuation of series of
bodies between the sun and the earth ; so that the sun does
not send forth an unbroken power of heat through a
vacuum, but passing through so many resisting bodies,
and having to do and to contend with each, is weakened
over this immense space; and so much the more, since the
further it proceeds and the weaker it becomes, so much
the more increase of resistance does it find in the bodies,
and most of all after arriving at the surface of the earth,
where there seems not only a resistance, but even some
degree of repulsion. And he thus lays down his theory on
the process of change. That there is as it were a deadly
and interminable war, and that those contrary natures do
not come together by any compact, nor by a third, except-
ing primitive matter. That either nature therefore naturally
seeks the destruction of the other, and the putting into
matter itself and our nature only, so that it is the object
of each (as he repeatedly and very plainly saith) to effect a
change of the other, of the sun, the change of the earth
into the sun; and of the earth, the change of the sun into
the earth; and that the regularity and justly proportioned
motions of all things present no obstacle to this theory ;
nor that every action has in its due course its beginning,
its progress, its increase, its diminution, and its rest: that
nevertheless not any of these happen through the laws of
order, but entirely through want of restraint and order;
for that the whole difference whether of excess or inferiority
in influence and action is not occasioned by the direction
of the effort of the motion itself (which begets a whole), but
from the force and curb of the opposite nature. That the
diversity, multiplicity, and even perplexity of operation is
owing altogether to one of these three; the power of heat,
the arrangement of the matter, or the mode of its reduction;

64 FABLE OF CUPID.

which three have nevertheless an inherent and mutual con-
nexion and causality. That heat itself differs in power,
quantity, speed, mean, and succession: that succession
itself is varied in most bodies by tendency to approach or
recede, whether by greater or less effort, by sudden motion,
by gradual, or by return or repetition through greater and
less intervals, and by changes of this kind. That calorics
are therefore of a vast diversity in their nature and power,
according to their purity and impurity, respect being had to
their first source, the sun. Nor does heat cherish every kind
of heat: but after they differ mutually a good number of
degrees, they mutually destroy themselves not less than
cold natures, and assume their peculiar powers of action,
and are opposed to the acts the one of the other; so that
Telesius makes the less with respect to the much greater
caloric natures to hold the place as it were of traitors and
conspirators with the cold against them. And so that
vivid heat, which is in fire and darts, utterly destroys that
slicht heat which seems to glide secretly in water; and in
like manner the preternatural heat of putrid humors suf-
focates and extinguishes natural heat: but that there is a
great difference as to the fulness of a body of heat, is too
plain to need explanation. For one or two coals of fire do
not throw out such a warmth as many do together; and
that the effect of the fulness of heat is remarkably shown
in the multiplication of the sun’s heat through the reflection
of his rays; for the number of his rays is doubled through
simple reflection, multiplied though various. But to the
quantity or copiousness of heat there should be ascribed or
added also its union, which is best seen by the obliquity
and perpendicular of rays, with which the nearer the direct
and reflex ray meets, and toward the acuter angles, the
greater degree of heat it sends forth in proportion. Nay
even the Sun himself, when amongst those greater and
more potent fires of the fixed stars, the Serpent, the Dog-
star, Spica, emit greater heat. But that the delay of
heat is evidently an operation of the greatest moment,
since all the influences of nature have respect to times,
so as that some time is required to the putting its in-
fluences into action, and a considerable time to the giving
them strength. That so the delay of heat turns equal heat
into progressive and unequal, because the antecedent and
subsequent heat is joined at the same time; that that is
apparent in the autumnal heats because they are perceived
to be more ardent in the solstitial heats, and in the after-

ee

FABLE OF CUPID. 65

noons of summer because they are found to be more ardent
in the middays of those seasons; also, that in colder
regions the feebleness of the heat is sometimes compen-
sated by the delay and length: of the summer days; but
that the power and efficacy of the mean is remarkable in
the conveyance of heat. For that hence the temperature
of the seasons is very various, so that the atmosphere is
found, by an inconstancy that is discoverable, to be some-
times cold in summer days, sometimes moist in winter
days, the sun in the mean while preserving his legitimate
course and ordinary distance; that the corn and vine are
more changed by the south winds and a stormy sky; and
that the whole position and emission of the atmosphere, at
one time pestilential and morbid, at another genial and
healthful, according to the various revolutions of the year,
has its rise from this, namely, from the varying of the
medium of the air, which gathers its diverse disposition
from the very vicissitude and alteration of the seasons,
perhaps in a long series. But that as there is a multifold
ratio, so is there a very great virtue of the succession of
heat, and of the order in which heat follows heat. For
that the sun could not send out so numerous and prolific
a generation, unless the configuration of the body of the
sun moving toward the earth, and the parts of the earth,
were a partaker of the very great inequality and variation ;
for the sun is moved both in a circle and rapidly, and
obliquely, and recalls itself, so as to be both absent and
present, both nearer and more remote, and more perpen-
dicular and more oblique, and returning swifter and slower,
so as that the heat emanating from the sun is never
the same, nor ever recovers itself in a little while (except-
ing under the tropics); so that so great a variation of the
power generating admirably agrees with this so great varia-
tion in that which is generated. To which can be added
the very diverse nature of the medium or vehicle. That
the other circumstances asserted of the inequality and
degrees of heat alone, can be referred to the vicissitudes
and varieties of succession in different heats. That Aris-
totle therefore rightly attributed the generation and corrup-
tion of things to the oblique path of the sun, making that
as it were their efficient cause, if he -had not indeed cor-
rupted the truth he discovered, through his unbounded
rage for uttering decisions and of making himself the law-
giver of nature, and of adapting and of settling all things
so as to make them harmonize with his dogmas. For that
VOL. XV. F

66 FABLE OF CUPID.

he ought to have assigned generation and corruption (which
is never entirely privative, but is productive of a second
generation) to the inequality of the sun’s heat, according
to the whole that is of the approaching and receding of
the sun jointly, not the generation to the approaching,
the corruption to the receding separately, which he did,
blunderingly and following the vulgar error. But if any
should think it strange that the generation of things is
attributed to the sun, when it is asserted that the sun is
fire, but fire generates nothing, this, saith he, is a ground-
less objection: for that which is asserted respecting a
heterogeneous nature of the heats of the sun and of fire, is
a mere phantasy. For that the operations are infinite in
which the action of the sun and the action of fire come
together, as in the ripening of fruits, the conservation of
tender plants, and of those which are used to a clement
temperature ; in cold regions, in the hatching of eggs, the |
restoration of waters to their clearness (for we join the
solar and animal heat), in the resuscitation of frozen ani-
malculz, in the calling of them up, and of vapours and the
like. But nevertheless that our fire is a bad imitator, and
does not well imitate the actions of the sun or come near
them, since the sun’s heat hath three properties, which
common fire can but poorly imitate under any circum-
stances. First, that from its distance it is less and more
bland in its very degree; but that this of a kind imitable
in some way; for such a measure of heat is rather un-
known than unattainable. Secondly, that in flowing and
increasing through so many and such media it borrows and
obtains a considerable degree of generative influence; but
chiefly because it is increased, lessened, advances or re-
tires with so regular an inequality, but never succeeds to
itself capriciously or with haste. Which two last proper-
ties are almost inimitable by fire, though the thing may be
accomplished by very considerate and laborious measures.
Such are the assertions of Telesius on the diversity of
heats. ;
But he scarcely takes any notice of the contrary principle
of cold and of its distribution; except perhaps what will
be now said in the second place on the disposition of matter,
might seem to him to suffice upon this head, which, never-
theless, he ought not to have supposed, since it was not
his mind to make cold by any means the privation of heat,
but as an active principle its rival and competitor. But
his dissertations on the arrangement of matter go to show ~

FABLE OF CUPID. 67

how matter is affected by heat, subdued or changed by it,
the subject of cold being entirely overlooked. But I will
add what he could, on his principles, have said respecting
this subject, for it is my desire to go through, and with im-
partiality, the theories and suppositions of all the philoso-
phers. He could have said that the seat of cold, being
fixed and unmoved, most admirably agreed with the mobile
and versatile structure of heat, as the anvil to the hammer.
For if both principles were possessed of variation and
change, they would doubtless produce contrary and momen-
taneous entities. That the immense regions of heat (that is
the heavens), moreover, were in some degree compensated by
the compact nature of the globe of the earth and cireumjacent
bodies, since not the space but the quantity of matter in the
space is taken into the account, but that the nature of
cold, its powers and proportions need but few words, since
experience does not furnish us with any certain deductions
respecting it. We have, therefore, our common fire, the
representative, as it were, of the sun, to show to us the
nature of heat. Butthere is no substitution of the cold of the
earth, within man’s reach, for the trying experiments with.
For that those hardenings and congealings of snow which, in
winter and in cold regions, breathe themselves out into air
from the globe and circuit of the earth, are plainly warmths
and baths, owing to the nature of the first cold shut up in
the bowels of the earth; so that the cold, which is in the
power and under the perception of men, is something like
as if they had no other heat than that which emanates from
the sun in summer, and in warm regions; which, if com-
pared with the fire of a heated furnace, may be deemed a
refreshing coolness. But I shall take up less time upon
those things that are pretended on this subject. We will
inquire, therefore, in order into the nature of what Telesius
has asserted respecting the arrangement of matter upon
which heat acts ; the power of which is such as to advance,
impede, or change the action itself of heat. The ratio of
this is fourfold. The first difference is taken from the pre-
inexistent heat or nonpreinexistent heat; the second from
the abundance or the scarcity of the matter; the third
from the degrees of the reduction; the fourth from the
closing or opening of the body reduced. As for the first,
Telesius supposes in all entities known to us, that there
_ exists a certain latent heat, though not subject to the touch,
which heat is joined with a new or overspreading heat ;
moreover, that itself is excited and inflamed by the same

68 FABLE OF CUPID.

adventitious heat to the performing its acts even in its pro-
per measure. He esteems it a considerable proof of this,
that there is no one entity, neither metal, stone, water, nor
air, which does not acquire warmth by touch, and also by
the application of fire or of a warm body. Which would
not surely be the case, unless there were a preinexistent
heat of a certain latent preparation for a new and manifest
heat. That even that excess or diminution, or facility and
slowness, which are found in the conceiving of heat in en-
tities, agrees with the measure of the preinexistent heat ;
that the air grows warm by a small heat, and such as is
quite imperceptible in an aqueous body ; also that water is
more easily endued with warmth than a stone, or metal, or
glass. For that any of these, as a metal or a stone, should
appear to acquire warmth sooner than water, that is, only
on the surface, not within the body, because consistent
bodies are less communicable in their parts than liquids.
That, therefore, the outermost parts of a metal are sooner
warmed than those of water, the whole bulk later. The
second difference is made to depend upon the coacervation
and extension of matter. If it be dense, the strength of the
heat is more united, and through the union increased and
made more intense; if on the other hand it be looser, the
strength is more dispersed, and through the dispersion
weakened. That the heat, therefore, of unknown metals is
more powerful than of boiling water, nay, than of flame it-
self, unless that the flame would, from its subtle nature,
pierce more. For that the flame of coals or of fuel, unless
roused by wind, so as through motion to penetrate more
easily, is not very violent; nay, that some flames (as. of
spirit of wine, especially if inflamed, and in a small quan-
tity and dispersed) is of so mild a heat, as to be endurable
by the hand. The third difference, which is taken from the
reduction of matter, is manifold; for he makes seven de-
grees of reduction, of which the first is milder, which is the
arrangement of matter, showing the body in some degree
yielding to greater violence, and especially susceptible of
extension, in fine flexible or ductile. The second is soft-
ness, when there is no need of greater force, but the body
a even by a light impulsion and to the touch, or the

and itself, without any apparent resistance. The third is
viscosity or tenacity, which is in a high degree the prin-
ciple of fluidity. For a viscous body seems to begin to
flew and go on at the contact and embrace of another body,
and not to come to an end of itself, although it does not

FABLE OF CUPID. 69

flow willingly and of itself; for the fluid easily follows it-
self, but is more viscous with respect to another body.
The fourth is the fluid itself, when the body partaking of
the interior spirit is in willing motion and follows itself, and
is not easily bounded or brought toa stand. The fifth is
vapour, when a body is attenuated tillit becomes intangible,
which yields, flows, undulates, and becomes tremulous,
with a greater agility and mobility. The sixth is breath-
ing, which is a certain vapour more concocted, and ma-
tured, and subdued, so as to be capable of receiving the
nature of fire. The seventh is the air itself, but Telesius
contends that the air is endued with a native heat, and that
considerable and very powerful, for that in the coldest
regions the air is never congealed or condensed: and that
another proof of this is, that all air that is confined and
separated from the main body of air, and left to itself, evi-
dently collects heat, as in wool and fibrous substances ; and
that the air in confined situations is found to suffocate
respiration, which is the consequence of its heat; and that
this arises from the confined air beginning to exert its own
nature, since the air out of doors, and under the open sky,
is cooled by the cold which the globe of the earth is con-
stantly emitting and exhaling: and also that our common
air hath a certain celestial property, since it in some degree
partakes of light; which appears from the power of those
animals which can see in the night and in dark places.
And such, according to Telesius, is the order of the arrange-
ment of matter, in the means, to wit, since the extremes,
although on one side hard bodies, and on the other fire
itself, are not reckoned as the limits of the means. But be-
sides these simple degrees, he searches out a great diversity
in the arrangement of matter according to the similarity or
dissimilarity of the body, since portions of mattercompounded
and united in one body can be referred equally either to one
of the beforementioned degrees, or unequally to different.
For that a very great difference follows thence in the opera-
tion of heat. And that soa fourth difference is necessarily
brought in from the nature and even position of a body upon ~
which heat acts, whether close or porous and open. For
when heat operates in an open and exposed situation, it
does so in order and severally, by attenuating and at the
same time by drawing out and separating. But when ina
confined and compact body, it operates in the mass, not
putting out any heat, but by the new and the old heat
uniting and conspiring, whence it follows that it causes

70 FABLE .OF CUPID.

more powerful, intrinsic, and subtle alterations and reduc-
tions. But more will be said on this subject when we come
to treat of the method of reduction. But in the meanwhile
Telesius is fully occupied, and is strangely put to it to ac-
count for the method of the divorce and separation of their
primary connatural qualities, heat, light, tenuity, and mo-
bility, and the four opposite qualities, as they happen to be
in bodies: since some bodies are found to be warm or ad-
mirably prepared to receive warmth, and yet to be at the
same time dense, motionless, and dark; others are found
to be subtle, mobile, lucid, or white, and yet cold; and so
of the rest, one certain quality to wit existing in some
things, whilst the remaining qualities are not in accordance
with it; but others participate in two of these natures, but
are without other two, by a very singular exchange and
intercourse. And this part Telesius does not skilfully ma-
nage, but carries himself like his opponents ; who making
their conjectures before their experiments, when they come
to the particular subjects themselves, abuse their talents
and their subjects, and wretchedly pervert both, and are
yet admirably dexterous and successful (if you believe their
own words), in whatever way they explain themselves.
But he concludes the subject in despair, intimating that
although the quantity and copiousness of heat and the
arrangement of the matter can be marked out in a vague
manner and in the mass, that yet their accurate and exact
proportions and their distinct measures are out of the reach
of human inquiry: yet so that (by what manner is placed
among the things that cannot be settled) the diversity of
the disposition of matter can be better known than the
strength and degrees of heat, and that yet in these very
things is placed (if any where) the highest point of human
knowledge and power. But after a plain acknowledgment
of despair, he still goes further than mere wishes and
prayers for more certainty. For so he said ; “ What heat
moreover or quantity, that is, what strength of heat, and
what quantity of it, that is which turns, and how it turns
the earth, and those things that are entities into such
bodies as itself, is not to be inquired into, since we have
no means of coming to this knowledge. For on what
principle shall it be allowed us to distribute the strength
of heat, and heat itself as it were into degrees, or to per~
ceive clearly the copiousness and quantity of matter which
is endowed with it, and to assign a certain quantity, dis-
position, and certain actions of matter to certain and deter-

FABLE OF CUPID. 71

minate powers and copiousness of heat, or, on the contrary,
to assign a fixed and certain copiousness of heat to a certain
quantity and certain actions of matter : Oh, that this might
be obtained by those who have both time and intellect at
command adequate to this investigation, and who could,
in the possession of the most perfect tranquillity search
into nature; that mankind might not only become then
masters of every kind of knowledge, but almost of every
kind of power. This, indeed, is said with more honesty
than is found in his opponents, who, if they cannot attain
their objects, affirm that their attainment is impossible from
the nature of the art or object itself, so that no art can be
condemned, since itself is both pleader and judge. There
remains that which was the third, namely, the method of
reduction. This Telesius dispatches by a threefold sen-
tence. The first is that which we noticed by the way
before, that no symbolization is understood (as in the doc-
trine of the Peripatetics) through which substances, by an
agreement, as it were, are nourished, and act in unison:
for that all generation, and every effect in a natural body
is the result of victory and predominance, not of agreement
or treaty. This, indeed, is no new dogma, since Aristotle
remarked it in the doctrine of Empedocles ; for that Empe-
docles, indeed, though he maintains contention and amity
to be the efficient principles of things, yet in his explica-
tions of causes generally makes use of their contention, and
seems to forget their amity. The second is that heat by its
own proper action constantly changes a substance into
moisture, and that dryness by no means coalesces with
heat, nor moisture with cold; for that to attenuate and to
moisten is the same, and that what is extremely thin is also
extremely moist; if through humid be understood that
which very easily yields, is divided into parts, again reco-
vers itself and is with difficulty limited or made to settle.
Ali which are more the properties of fire than of air, which
is for the most part moist, according to the Peripatetics ;
and that so heat continually draws, feeds upon, extends,
inserts, and generates humidity ; that cold, on the contrary,
acts altogether on dryness, concretion, and hardness; where
Aristotle deems him deficient in acuteness, and inconsistent,
and impatient of the decisions of experience, in joining heat
with dryness. For that the drying of substances by heat
is accidental merely ; namely, in a dissimilar body, and
that is composed of some parts more thick, of others more
thin, by drawing out, and (by means of attenuation) giving

42 FABLE OF CUPID.

vent to the thinner part, till the thicker part is forced
thence, and compresses itself more; which thicker part,
nevertheless, if a rather violent heat comes, flows also of
itself, as is evident in bricks: for, in the first place, heat,
not so fervent, makes the loam into bricks on the thinner
part having evaporated; but a more powerful heat even dis-
solves that bricky substance into glass. And these two
dogmata can be considered as the answers to errors ; the
third plainly affirms, and not only so, but clearly distin-
guishes the method of reduction. This is twofold, either
by rejection or conversion: and one or other of these modes
is brought out into act, according to the power of the heat,
and the arrangement of matter. But two canons belong to
this subject. The one is, that when heat and cold concur in
vast bulk, and as it were with any even force, an ejection fol-
lows. For entities, like armies, are moved from their place
and thrust forward. But when it takes place in a less
quantity, then a conversion follows: for the entities are
destroyed, and lose rather their nature than their place.
There is a remarkable exemplification of this in the higher
regions of the air, which, although they come nearer to the
celestial heat, are yet found colder than the confines of the
earth. For in those regions, after arriving nearer to the
seat of the prime heat, the heat, collecting itself, at once
casts down, and thrusts off, and hinders from approach the
whole power of the cold which had ascended. He saith
that the same thing, moreover, may happen, that there
may be through the depths of the earth greater heats than
on the surface; to wit, after the approach to the seat of
the prime cold, which rousing itself throws off the heat
with great force, and avoids it, and returns into its own
nature. The second canon is that in an open body ejec-
tion in a close conversion follows. He asserts that this is
notably instanced in closed vessels, where the emission of
an attenuated body (which we commonly call spirit) being
restrained, begets deep and intrinsical alterations and fer-
mentations in bodies; but that this takes place in like man-
ner when a body, from its parts being compacted, is to
itself like a closed vessel. Such are the opinions of Tele-
sius, and, perhaps, of Parmenides, on the elements of
things, excepting that Telesius added, of his own accord,
Hyle, through his being led astray by the Peripatetic
notions.

And the opinions of Telesius might indeed have an air
of probability if man were taken out of nature together

FABLE OF CUPID. 73

with the mechanical arts which try matter, and if we
simply looked to the fabric of the world. For it is a kind
of pastoral philosophy, which tranquilly and as it were at
ease contemplates the world. For, indeed, he is not amiss
in laying down the mundane system, but miserably fails
upon the subject of the elements. And there is, indeed, in
his system itself a great failure, in its being supposed
capable of an eternal nature, the idea of a chaos and the
mutations of the universal scheme of things being alto-
gether omitted. For that philosophy, whether of Telesius
or of the Peripatetics, or any other which so prepares and
furnishes its system as not to derive it from chaos, is
evidently of slight foundation, and altogether conceived
from the narrowness of human imagination. For so in
entire accordance with sense doth the philosopher assert
the eternity of matter, and deny that of the world (as the
world appears to us), which was the opinion of the wisest
ancients, and to which opinion Democritus seems to have
approached. And this is also the testimony of scripture ;
but with this great difference, that the scriptures derive
the origin of matter from God, the philosophers from itself.
For we gather from our faith three dogmas on this point ;
first, that matter was formed from nothing; secondly, that
the production of the system was through the word of
omnipotence, and not that matter endued itself with form
and of itself came forth from chaos; thirdly, that before
the fall that form was the best of those which matter (such
as it was created) could take: but to none of these dogmas
could these philosophical theories ascend. For they shudder
at the thoughts of a creation from nothing, and deem that
this form of things was produced after many windings and
attempts of matter, nor are they troubled as to conceiving
of the most excellent kind of system, since theirs is
asserted to be lable to decline and to change. We must
then rest upon the decisions of faith and upon its supports,
But perhaps we need not inquire whether that created
matter, after a long course of ages, from the power at first
put into it could gather and change itself into that most
excellent form (which, leaving these windings, it did imme-
diately at the command of the divine word). For the
representation of time and the formation of a substance are
equally miraculous effects of the same omnipotence. But
the divine nature seems to have designed glorifying itself
equally in either emanation : first, by omnipotently working
upon ens and matter by creating substance from nothing ;

74 FABLE OF CUPID.

secondly, upon motion and time, by anticipating the order
of nature and accelerating the process of substance. But
these pertain to the parable of heaven, where we will discuss
more fully what we are now just intimating: and so we go
on to the elements of Telesius. And here I wish it had been
universally and at once agreed upon not to fetch entities
out of nonentities and elements out of nonelements, and
so to fall into manifest contradiction. But an abstract
element is not an ens; again, a mortal entity is not an
element; so that a necessity plainly invincible drives men
Gif they would be consistent) to the idea of an atom, which
is a true ens, having matter, form, dimension, place, an-
titype, appetite, motion, and emanation. It at the same
time remains unshaken and eternal during the dissolution
of all natural bodies. For since there are so many and
various corruptions taking place in greater bodies, it is re-
quisite that what remains as the centre immutable, should
either be a somewhat potential or very small. But it is
not potential, for the first potential cannot be like the rest
which are potential, which are one thing in act, another
thing in power. But itis requisite that it should be plainly
abstract, since it refuses all act and contains all power.
And so it remains that this immutable should be of the
smallest size; unless perchance some one will assert that
no elements exist, but that one thing serves for elements
to another, that the law and order of mutation are things
constant and eternal, that the essence itself is inconstant
and mutable. And it would indeed be better plainly to
make an assertion of this sort, than in laying down some
eternal principle to fall into the still greater absurdity of
making that principle a phantastic one. For that first
method seems to have some design and end, that things
should be changed into the world, but this, none, which for
entities adopts mere notions and mental abstractions. And
yet the impossibility of this being the case I shall hereafter
show. Yet his Hyle pleased Telesius, which he transferred
from a later age after the birth of Parmenides’ philosophy.
But Telesius instituted an evidently unaccountable and
unequal contest between his elements in action, whether
you consider their forces or their kind of war. For, as to
their forces, the earth is alone, but the heaven has a great
army; the earth is as a little speck, the heaven hath its
immense regions. Nor can it relieve this difficulty that the
earth and its connaturals are asserted to be of the most
compact matter, and the heaven and etherial substances on

ae

a

FABLE OF CUPID. 75

the other hand, of the most expanded. For although this
indeed is a very essential difference, yet it will by no means
equalize the forces even with so great an intermediate
space. But the strength of the opmion of Telesius turns
chiefly upon this, if an equal portion as it were of Hyle
(according to the quantum, not according to the expansion)
be assigned to both acting elements, so that the things can
last, and the system be made and established. For who-
ever wilt think with Telesius on other points, and will
receive the surpassing power of I/y/e, especially in so great
an excess, in one principle compared with another, will in-
volve himself in an inextricable difficulty. In the dialogue,
therefore, of Plutarch, “ De facie in orbe lune,” this con-
sideration is very wisely proposed, that it is improbable
that nature in the dispersion of matter shut up the pro-
perties of a compact body into the sole globe of the earth,
when there were in the mean time so many revolving
bodies in the heavens. Yet Gilbertus indulged to such
excess in this imagination as to assert that not only the
earth and the moon but many other solid and opaque globes
were scattered amongst the bodies of light through the
expanse of heaven. Nay, the Peripatetics themselves, after
they had made the heavens eternal through their own con-
dition, and things sublunary by succession and renovation,
did not imagine that they had sufficiently guarded their
tenet till they assigned to the elements as it were equal
portions of matter. For this is that which they fable
concerning that tenfold portion by which the surroundin

element is superior to the inner element. But I do not
bring these things forward, because none of them are to my
mind, but to show that it is perfectly improbable and
unnatural to maintain with Telesius that the earth is a
principle acting in contrariety to the heavens. And the
difficulty will be greatly increased if besides the quantum
itself we consider the unequal influence and action of the
heaven and the earth. For the condition of contest must
be lost altogether, if the attack of the hostile weapons be
borne by the one side, but do not reach the other, but fall
first. But it is plain that the power of the sun is projected
toward the earth, but none can promise that the influence
of the earth ever reaches the sun. For of all the influences
of nature, the influence of light and shade is conveyed to
the greatest distance and is circumfused with the greatest
space or orbit. But the shade of the earth is bounded on
this side the sun, whilst the light of the sun, if the earth

76 FABLE OF CUPID.

were transparent, could beat across the globe of the earth.
Heat and cold, in particular (of which we are now treating),
are never found to overcome so great a space in the con-
veyance of their influence, as light and shade. Therefore,
if the shade of the earth does not reach the sun, much less
is it in accordance with this to suppose that the cold of the
earth travels thither. If indeed the sun and heat acted
upon certain mediate bodies, whether the influence of a
contrary principle could not ascend, or by any means
hinder their action, it is requisite that the sun and heat
should occupy whatever are the nearest bodies to them, and
then should join also the more remote, so that in time the
conflagration of Heraclitus should take place by the solar
and celestial nature gradually descending, and making a
nearer approach to the earth and its confines. Nor does
this well harmonize, that that power of imparting and
multiplying its own nature and of turning other things
into itself, which Telesius attributes to the elements, should
not operate on similar equally or more than opposite bodies ;
so that the heaven ought already to be lit up and the stars
to be engaged in mutual conflict. But, to come nearer the
point, those four demonstrations ought to be set forth,
which even singly, much more conjointly, can evidently
subvert the philosophy of Telesius respecting the elements.
Of these, the first is that there are found in things some
actions and effects, even of things the most potent and
the most widely diffused, which cannot by any means be
referred to heat and cold. The second is, that there are
found some natures of which heat and cold are the conse-
quences and effects, and that not through the excitation of
preinexistent heat, or through the application of heat ap-
proximating to them, but through those things by which
heat and cold are infused and generated in their first esse.
The ground of an element, therefore, fails in either side in
them, both because there is a something not from them, and
because themselves are from something. The third is, that
even those which derive their origin from heat and cold
(which certainly are very many), yet proceed from them as
from an efficient and organs, not as from their proper and
nearest source. Fourthly, that that conjugation of the four
connaturals is altogether blended and confused. There-
fore I will speak of these singly. But some may think the
time misspent in so minute an examination of the philosophy
of Telesius, a philosopher of no great popularity or celebrity.
But the fastidiousness of such objectors I dismiss. I have

tl ai

FABLE OF CUPID. tL

a favourable opinion of Telesius, and recognize in him a
lover of truth, a profitable servant of science, a reformer of
some tenets, and the first indeed of the moderns. Nor have
I to do with him so much as Telesius as in his character
of restorer of the philosophy of Parmenides, and as such
he is entitled to great regard. But my chief reason for so
largely discussing this part of our subject is, that in Tele-
sius, who is the first who meets our view, we find occasion
to consider very many subjects which can be transferred,
as replies to following sects (of whom we shall hereafter
speak) to avoid repetition. For there are fibres of errors
(though of different kinds) wonderfully complicated, which
can yet in many instances be cut away by one answer.
But as we began to say, we must see what kind of influ-
ences and actions are found in things which cannot by
any concord of things or violence of ingenuity be referred
to heat and cold. We must assume then, in the first
place, what is granted by Telesius, that the sum of matter
remains eternally the same without increase or diminution.
This property, by which matter preserves and sustains |
itself, he transmits as passive, and as it were pertaining
more to the measure of quantity than to form and action,
as if there were no need of reckoning it to heat or cold,
which are considered the sources of acting forms only and
influences, for that matter is not simply but altogether des-
titute of active influence. And these assertions flow from
an incredible error, unless the miracle be removed by its
having been an inveterate and general opinion. For there
is scarcely any error similar than that a person should not
deem the active influence that virtue infused into matter,
(through which it is kept from decay, so that the very
least portion of matter is not buried in the whole bulk of
the world, nor destroyed by the power of all the active
influences, or in any way annihilated, and can be reduced
to order; nay, can occupy a portion of space and preserve
resistance with impenetrable dimension, and itself by turns
be capable of some action, and not forsake itself). When,
on the contrary, it is by far the most potent of all in-
fluences, and evidently insuperable and as it were a mere
fate and necessity. Yet this virtue Telesius does not
attempt to refer to heat or cold. And rightly so: for nei-
ther do fire or numbness and congelation add or detract
any thing from it nor have any power over it, when it yet
meanwhile flourishes in the sun, at the centre of the earth
and every where. But he seems to fail, in that he recog-

78 FABLE OF CUPID.

nizes a certain and defined bulk of matter, is blind to that
influence which should defend itself and preserve itself in
its several parts, and (as it were be clouded in the darkest
shades of the Peripatetics) puts that in the place of an
accessory, when it is mainly the principal, poising its own
body, removing another, solid and adamantine in itself,
and whence emanate by an inviolable authority the de-
crees of the possible and the impossible. In the same
manner the vulgar school puerilely catches at it with an
easy grasp of words, imagining that the judgment is satis-
fied by making a canon of the impossibility of two bodies
occupying the same space, but does not take into actual and
full consideration that influence and the measure of which
we speak; overlooking how much depends upon it and
how great a light would thence be thrown upon science.
But to our point, that influence, whatever is its nature, is
not comprehended in the elements of Telesius. We must
now pass to that influence itself, which is as it were the
antistrophe to this former, that namely which preserves
the connexion of matter. For as matter will not suffer
itself to be overwhelmed and perish by matter, so neither
can it be separated from matter. And yet it is very
doubtful whether this law of nature is equally peremptory
with that other.

But Telesius like Democritus supposed a vacuum heaped
together and unbounded, that each ens singly might lay
down its contiguous ens, and sometimes desert it involun-
tarily and with difficulty (as they say), but with a greater
and a subdued violence, and he endeavoured to demon-
strate this by sundry experiments, adducing especially
those things which are cited here and there for the deny-
ing and refuting of a vacuum, and drawing out and en-
larging these in such a manner as that the ens may appear
to keep that contiguity by being placed in a certain light
necessity ; but that if they were very much agitated they
would admit a vacuum; as in water-hourglasses, in which
if there be rather a small aperture through which the water
can descend, they will want a spiracle for the water to
descend ; but if a larger foramen even without a spiracle,
the water being incumbent with a greater bulk on the
foramen, and in no way impeding the vacuum above, is
carried downwards. So in bellows, in which if you com-
press and shut them so that there be left no place for the
air to glide in, and you afterward elevate and expand them,
if the skin of the bellows be slight and weak, it will break,

FABLE OF CUPID. 79

not so if very thick and firm; and other experiments in
like manner. But these experiments are neither exactly
proved, nor are they quite satisfactory, nor conclusive on
‘the question, and though Telesius thinks he adds to dis-
coveries by means of them, and endeavours after a more
subtle discernment of what others have seen but confusedly,
yet he does not come off equal to his subject, nor educe a
true conclusion, but fails in the means: the misfortune
indeed of Telesius and the Peripatetics, who in looking
into experiments are like owls, not through the inefficiency
of their faculties, but through the cataracts of opinions and
impatience of fixed and full contemplation. But the very
difficult question how far a vacuum is to be admitted, and
with respect to what spaces there can be a coition or sepa-
ration of seeds, and what there is on this head that is
peremptory and invariable, I leave to my dissertation on
the vacuum. Nor does it relate much to my present pur-
pose whether nature utterly abhors a vacuum, or (as Tele-
sius imagines himself to speak more accurately) entities
delight in mutual contact. This we hold to be plain that
whether it be avoidance of a vacuum or inclination to con-
tact does not in any degree depend on heat and cold, nor
does Telesius assert that it doth, nor can it be so ascribed
from any appearance in the things themselves: since mat-
ter moved from its place attracts doubtless other matter,
whether that be hot or cold, liquid or dry, hard or soft,
friendly or adverse, so that a warm would sooner attract the
coldest body to come to it, than suffer itself to be disjoined
from and deserted by every kind of body. For the bond of
matter is stronger than the aversion of heat and cold: and the
sequacity of matter has no respect to the diversity of special
forms; and so this influence of connexion is by no means
from those elements of heat and cold. The two influences
that are mutually opposite follow, which conferred (as may
be seen) this rule of elements upon heat and cold, but by
a right badly explicated. I mean those influences through
which entities open and rarify themselves, dilate and ex-
pand so as to occupy a greater space, and dispose them-
selves into a more extensive orbit; or, other hand, shut up
and condense themselves, so as to retire from the space
they occupied and betake themselves to a narrower sphere.
We must show, therefore, how far that influence hath its
rise in heat and cold, and how far it dwells apart, and has
a separate nature from that other influence. And that is
certainly true, which Telesius affirms, that rarity and den-
sity are, as it were, the peculiar works of heat and cold;

80 FABLE OF CUPID.

for the most essential requisite, in respect of these, is that
the bodies should occupy a greater and a less space; but
yet these dogmas are received rather confusedly: for
bodies seem sometimes to migrate from one natural site to
another, and to transfer themselves, and that freely and, as
it were, willingly, and changing their forms ; but sometimes
they seem only driven from their natural site, and to return
to their accustomed site, their old form remaining the same.
And that progressive influence entering on a new site is
commonly determined by heat and ecgld: but that other
restorative influence is not so. For water expands itself
into vapour and air, oil likewise, and fat substances, into
steam and flame, by the power of heat, and, if they have
completely transmigrated, do not return, Nay even the air
itself is dilated and extended by heat. But if the migration
shall have been half full after the departure of heat, it
easily falls back into itself; so as that there are also some
properties of heat and cold in the restorative influence itself.
But those which, without any intervening heat or violence,
are extended and divided, even without any addition of cold
or subtraction of heat, most readily are returned to their
former sites when the force ceases, as in the blowing of a
glass egg, and in the emptying of bellows. But that is far
more evident in solid and dense bodies. For if cloth, or a
string of an instrument be stretched, when the force is taken
away, they leap back with great swiftness, and the same is
the nature of compression. For the air, drawn together
and confined with some violence, breaks forth with a consi-
derable effort, and so the whole of that mechanical motion
by which a hard is struck by a hard body, which is com-
monly called the motion of force, through which solid bodies
are discharged, and fly through the air or water, is nothing
else than the contending of the parts of the discharged
body to free themselves from compression. And yet here
are no traces of heat and cold. Nor can any one take oc-
casion from Telesius to say, that a certain portion of heat
and cold is assigned to each natural site, according to a
fixed analogy. And that it can thus happen, that though
there be no additional heat or cold, yet if the space of the
body of matter be extended or contracted, the thing would
return to the same state, because more or less matter is laid
on the space than is in proportion to the heat or cold. But
these assertions, though not absolutely absurd, seem, never-
theless, like the imaginations of men unwilling to go from
their first opinions, and who do not follow reality and
nature. For if heat and cold be added to bodies thus ex~

FABLE OF CUPID. 8l

tended or compressed, and that in a greater degree accords
with the body itself, as if the stretched cloth be warmed at
the fire, it will not in any way make up for the thing, or
extinguish the impetus of recovery. We have then made
it plain that the influence of changing site does not depend,
in a remarkable degree, upon heat and cold, when yet this
is that very influence which assigns the greatest power to
these principles. Those two influences follow which are
universally recognised, through which bodies seek masses
or greater congregations of things connatural with them, in
observing of which, as of other subjects, men either trifle
orerr. For the vulgar school thinks it sufficient to have
distinguished the natural from the forced motion, and to
give out that heavy bodies are, by a natural motion, borne
downward; light, upward. But these speculations are of
very little help to philosophy. For their “ nature,” “ art,”
“ force,” are only terms of terms and trifles. They should
refer this motion not only to nature, but should seek in this
very motion the particular and proper bias and inclination
of the natural body. For there are many other natural
motions, according to very different passive natures of
things from these. The subject therefore is to be laid down
according to these differences. Nay those very motions
which they call violent, are more truly natural than that
which they call natural; if that be more according to
nature which is more powerful, or even which is tok of
a universal kind. For that motion of ascent and descent
is not very potent, nor even universal, but as it were pro-
vincial, and for certain regions, and even yielding and sub-
jected to other motions. Their saying that heavy bodies
are borne downward, light, upward, is no more than saying
that heavy are heavy, light, light bodies. For what 1s so
predicated is assumed from the very force of the term in
the subject. But if by heavy they mean dense, by light,
rare, they do not advance the subject, only they lead it
back rather to the adjunct and concomitant, than to the
cause. But they who so explain the bias of heavy bodies
as to assert that they are borne to the earth’s centre, and
light to the circumference and circuit of heaven, as to their
proper destinations, certainly advance something, and hint
at a cause, but yet with much inconsideration. For places
are not influences, nor is a body affected but by a body,
and every incitation of a body which seems to be seat
itself, affects and endeavours a configuration toward another
body, not collocation or simple site. Ar? R,
VOL. XV. G

. 82

TOPICS OF INQUIRY CONCERNING LIGHT
AND THE MATTER OF LIGHT.

1. Presence Tables.

We have first to note which are the substances, of whatever |
kind, that generate light; as stars, fiery meteors, flame,
wood, metals, and other burning bodies, sugar in scraping
or breaking it, the glowworm, the dews of salt water when
it is agitated or scattered, the eyes of certain animals, some
sorts of rotten wood, large quantities of snow; perhaps the
air itself may possess a weak light adapted to the vision of
the animals which see by night; iron and tin, when put into
aqua fortis to be dissolved, boil, and without any fire pro-
duce intense heat, but whether or not they give out any
light demands inquiry; the oil of lamps sparkles in very
cold weather; a kind of faint light is sometimes observed
in a clear night around a horse that is sweating; around
the hair of certain persons, there is seen, though rarely,
also a faint light, like a lambent flamule, as occurred to
Lucius Martius in Spain; there was lately found an apron
of a certain woman which was said to shine, yet only when
rubbed ; but it had been dyed in green, of which dye alum
is an ingredient, and it rustled somewhat when shining.
Whether alum shines or not when scraped or broken is
matter of inquiry; but, I suppose, it requires more violent
breaking, because it is firmer than sugar. In like manner,
some stockings shine whilst you are pulling them off,
whether from sweat or the dye of alum.

11. Absence Tables.

We must also observe which are the substances that give
no light, yet have much similitude to such as do produce
it. Boiling water does not give light; air though unusually
heated does not give light; mirrors and diamonds, which
so strikingly reflect light, give no hight of their own.

In this kind of instances we have also to consider dili-
gently the instances migratory, namely, when light, as if

TOPICS OF INQUIRY, ETC. 83

transient, is present, and when absent. A burning coal
gives light, but loses it instantly when strongly compressed ;
the erystalline humour of the glowworm, after the worm’s
death, even when broken and divided into parts, retains
light for a short time, which however soon after fades
away.

ut. Table of Degrees.

We must remark which sorts of light are more intense
and vibrating, which less: the flame of wood produces a
strong light; the flame of spirit of wine, a weaker; the
flame of coals when fully kindled, a very dim and scarcely
visible light. Bs

iv. Colours of Light.

We have to consider the colours of light, what they are,
what not: some stars are white, others glittering, some red,
some lead-coloured ; the common sorts of flame are gene-
rally croceous, and among these the coruscations from the
sky, and the sparks from flint, tend most to whiteness ; the
flame of sulphur ‘is ceruleous and beautiful; but in some
substances are purple flames. No green flames are ob-
served: what most inclines to greenness, is that of the glow-
worm. Neither are there any crimson flames discovered :
heated iron is red, but if heated somewhat more intensely,
it becomes as it were white.

v. Reflections of Light.

We have to observe what bodies reflect light: as mirrors,
water, polished metals, the moon, precious stones. All
liquid bodies and such as have very equal smooth surfaces
are somewhat bright: but brightness is a certain small
degree of light. ;

We have to remark attentively, whether or not the light
of one lucid body can be reflected by another lucid body;
as if you took heated iron and opposed it to the sun’s rays.
For the reflections of light are reflected on, yet becoming
gradually feebler, from mirror to mirror.

vi. Multiplication of Light.

The multiplication of light must next be considered: as
by mirrors, perspectives, and the hke, by which light may
be sharpened and thrown to a distance, or also rendered
subtler and softer for distinguishing visible objects; as you

84 TOPICS OF INQUIRY

may see among painters who use a phial filled with water
beside their candle.

Whether all bodies of any considerable size do not reflect
light, must also be considered. For light, as may be be-
lieved, either goes through or is reflected: from which
cause the moon, though it be an opaque body, may yet
reflect light by reason of its magnitude.

We must ascertain too whether or not the aggregation of
lucid bodies multiplies light. And in regard to bodies
equally lucid there is no doubt of this: but it remains for
inquiry whether or not a light, which is evidently overcome
and rendered of itself invisible by a greater light, doth not
yet add some light. Whatsoever is bright also contributes
somewhat of light, for an apartment is much lighter when
hung with silk than with cloth. Light is also multiplied
by refraction; for gems when cut into angles, and glass
when broken, shine much more than if they were smooth.

vil. Modes of destroying Light.

The modes of destroying light must also be remarked :
as by the exuperance of greater light, and by dense and
opaque mediums. The sun’s rays certainly, falling on the
flame of a fire, make the flame seem like a kind of whiter
smoke.

vit. Operations or Effects of Light.

We have to consider the operations or effects of light,
which, it seems, are few, and possess little power of changing
bodies, especially solids. Light above all things generates
itself, other qualities sparingly. Light doth certainly in
some measure attenuate the air, is grateful to the spirits of
animals, and exhilerates them; it excites the slumbering
rays of all colours and visible things, for every colour is
the broken image of light.

1x. Continuance of Light.

The continuance of light must be investigated ; which,
as it appears, is momentary. For light doth not illuminate
an apartment more when it hath continued there for many
hours, than for any single moment; which is not so in
respect of heat, &c.; for the first portion of heat remains,
and a new one is added to it. Yet twilight is by some
thought to arise from the traces of the sun.

CONCERNING LIGHT. 85

x. Ways and Progress of Light.

We have attentively to consider the ways and progress
of light. Light is shed around on all sides ; but it remains
for inquiry whether it at the same time ascends a little, or
is equally shed around upwards and downwards. The
light itself generates light every where around it; so that
when the body of light, on interposing a screen, is not dis-
cerned, yet the light itself illuminates every thing around,
except the objects which fall within the shadow of the
screen: these, however, receive some light from the light
which is thrown around; for any thing within the shadow
of the screen can be discerned much better than if no light
at all were present. Thus the visible body of any lucid
object, and the light itself, seem to be things different.
Light doth not penetrate bodies which are fibrous and of
unequal structure; but yet is not impeded by the solid
hardness of a substance, as you shall see in glass and the
like. Thus the straight line and the pores which are not
transverse, alone seem to transmit light. The best con-
ductor of light is air, which conveys light the better the
purer it is. It remains for inquiry whether or not light is
carried through the body of the air. Sounds certainly we see
carried by winds, so that they may be heard farther when
going with the wind than against it. But it remains for
inquiry whether or not any thing of the kind takes place
with light.

x1. Transparency of lucid Bodies.

We must also inquire respecting the transparency of
lucid bodies. The wick of a candle is seen within the
flame; but through larger flames objects reach not the
sight. But again, all transparency is lost on heating any
body, as may be seen in glass, which is no longer trans-
parent when heated. The substance of air is transparent,
also of water; yet these two transparent substances when
mixed, as in snow or foam, are no longer transparent, but
acquire a certain light of their own.

x11. Cognations and Hostilities of Light.

The cognations, and also the hostilities of light must be
investigated. Light, as far as regards its production, has
most of all cognation with three things, heat, tenuity, and
motion. We must, therefore, consider the marriages and
divorces of these three with light, also the degrees of these
same marriages and divorces. The flame of spirit of wine

86 TOPICS OF INQUIRY

or of an ignis fatuus, has a much feebler heat than red-hot
iron, but a stronger light. Glowworms, and the dews of
salt water, and many of the things which we mentioned,
throw out light, yet are not hot to the touch. Also burn-
ing metals are not subtle bodies, but yet they have an
ardent heat. But, on the other hand, air is one of the
subtlest bodies, yet it is void of light; again, this same air,
and also winds, though rapid in motion, afford no light.
But, on the other hand, burning metals do not lay aside
their sluggish motion, nevertheless vibrate light.

But in the cognations of light, which have no relation
to its production, but only to its progression, nothing is so
much allied to it as sound. To the sympathies and disa-
greements of the two we must therefore strictly direct our
attention. :

In the following they agree: both light and sound are
diffused around on all sides. Light and sound are con-
veyed through very large spaces; but light more swiftly,
as we see in cannons, where the light is sooner discerned
than the sound is heard, although the flame follows after.
Both light and sound undergo the subtlest distinctions ;
as sounds in words articulate, and light in the images of
all visible objects. Light and sound produce or generate
almost nothing, except in the senses and spirits of animals.
Light and sound are easily generated, and soon fade away.
For there is no cause why any one should conceive that
the sound, which continues for some time after a bell or
chord has been struck, is produced at the moment of per-
cussion ; because, if you touch the bell or chord, the sound
instantly ceases, from which it is evident, that the continu-
ance of the sound is created by succession. One light is
destroyed by a greater, as one sound by a greater, &c. But
light and sound differ, in that light, as observed, is more
rapid than sound, and goes over larger spaces: whether or
not light is conveyed in the body of the air, in the same
manner as sound, is uncertain: light proceeds in straight
lines only, but sound in crooked lines, and in all directions.
For where any thing is discerned in the shadow of a screen,
there is no cause to think that the hght penetrates the
screen, but only that it illuminates the air around, which
from its nearness doth also somewhat illustrate the air
behind the screen. But a sound excited on one side of a
wall is heard on the other side not much weaker. Sound
also is heard within the septa of solid bodies, though fainter,
as in the case of sounds within bloodstones ; or when bodies

CONCERNING LIGHT. 87

are struck under water. But light is not at all visible in
a solid opaque body which is close on all sides,

Light penetrates deeper than sound, as at the bottom of
waters. Every sound is produced in the motion and mani-
fest, collision of bodies: not so light.

But hostilities of light, or privations, if any like the term
better, occur not. However, as is exceedingly probable,
the torpor of bodies, in their parts, is very inimical to light.
For almost nothing gives light that is not in its own nature
remarkably mobile, or excited by heat, or motion, or vital
spirit.

"Yet I always mean, that not only other instances remain
to be investigated (for these few we have adduced only by
way of example), but also that new topical articles, as the
nature of things requires, may be added.

FRANCIS BACON’S APHORISMS

AND ADVICES CONCERNING THE HELPS OF THE MIND AND
THE KINDLING OF NATURAL LIGHT.

Mav, the servant and interpreter of nature, does and un-
derstands as much as he has actually or mentally observed
of the’ order of nature: he neither knows nor can do more.

The naked hand of man, however strong and constant,
suffices for but few operations, and those easy; the same,
by help of instruments, performs many and obstinate ope-
rations: so is it also with the mfnd.

The instruments of the hand excite or direct motion:
and the instruments of the mind prompt or caution the in-
tellect.

On a given basis of matter to impose any nature, within
the limits of possibility, is the intention of human power.
In like manner, to know the causes of a given effect, in
whatever subject, is the intention of human knowledge:
which intentions coincide. For that which is in contem-
plation as a cause, is in operation as a medium.

The knowledge of him who knows the cause of any na-
ture, as of whiteness or of heat, in certain subjects only, is
imperfect. And the power of him, who can induce an
effect upon certain substances only of such as are suscep-
tible, is hkewise imperfect.

88 APHORISMS.

He who knows the causes of any nature in some subjects
only, knows the efficient or materiate cause, which causes
are inconstant, and nothing else but vehicles and causes
conveying form. But he who comprehends the unity of
nature in the most dissimilar substances, knows the form
of things.

He who knows the efficient and materiate causes, com-
poses or divides things previously invented, or transfers
and produces them; also in matter somewhat similar, he
attaineth unto new inventions; the more deeply fixed limits
of things he moveth not.

He who knows the forms, discloses and educes things
which have not hitherto been done, such as neither the
vicissitudes of nature, nor the diligence of experience might
ever have brought into action, or as might not have entered
into man’s thoughts.

The same is the way and the perfection of truth and of
power: this, namely, to discover the forms of things, from
the knowledge of which followeth true contemplation and
free operation.

The discovery of forms which proceeds by the exclusion
or rejection of natures is simple and one. For all natures,
which are absent in a given present nature, or present in a
given absent nature, pertain not to form; and, after com-
plete rejection or negation, the form and affirmation remains.
If you inquire, for example, into the form of heat, and find
water hot, yet not lucid, reject light: if you find air thin,
yet not hot, reject tenuity. This is short to say, but it is
reached by a long circuit.

The contemplative and the operative utterance of words
differ not in reality. For when you say, light belongs not
to the form of heat, it is the same as if you were to say, in
producing heat it is not necessary to produce light also.

: (The rest were not finished.)

Nor do these proceed under our authority. Thou, O Fa-
ther, turning to the works which thy hands made, saw that
all things were very good; but man, turning to the works
which his hands made, saw that all was vanity and vexa-
tion of spirit. Therefore, if we have laboured amid thy
works, thou wilt make us partakers of thy gratulation and
of thy sabbath. We humbly entreat that this disposition
may abide in us; and that by our hands the human family
may be endowed with new alms from thee. These we com-
mend to thy eternal love, through our Jesus, thy Christ,
God with us. A.C.

89

OF THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

XII. SENTENCES.

Of the condition of Man.

], Man, the servant and interpreter of nature, does and
understands as much, as he shall really or mentally observe
of the order of nature, himself meanwhile inclosed around
by the laws of nature.

2. The limit, therefore, of human power and knowledge,
is in the faculties with which man is endowed by nature
for moving and perceiving, as well as in the state of pre-
sent things. For beyond these bases, those instruments
avail not.

3. These faculties, though of themselves weak and inept,
are yet capable, when properly and regularly managed, of
setting before the judgment and use things most remote
from sense and action, and of overcoming greater difficulty
of works and obscurity of knowledge, than any one hath
yet learned to wish.

4. Truth is one, interpretation one; but sense is oblique,
the mind alien, the matter urgent; yet the work itself of
interpretation is devious rather than difficult.

Of the Impediments of Interpretation.

5. Whoever, unable to doubt, and eager to affirm, shall
establish principles proved (as he believes), conceded, and
manifest, and, according to the unmoved truth of these,
shall reject or receive others as repugnant or favourable ;
he shall exchange things for words, reason for insanity, the
world for a fable, and shall be incapable of interpreting.

6. He who hath not mixed, confounded, and reduced into
a mass, all distinction of things, which appears in the com-
monly established species, and the names imposed, shall not
see the unity of nature, nor the legitimate lines of things,
and shall not be able to interpret.

7. He who hath not first, and before all, intimately ex-
plored the movements of the human mind, and therein most

90 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

accurately distinguished the course of knowledge and the
seats of error, shall find all things masked and, as it were,
enchanted, and, till he undo the charm, shall be unable to
interpret.

8. He who is occupied in inquiring into the causes of
things obvious and compound, as flame, dreams, fever, and
doth not betake himself to simple natures ; first, to those
which are popularly esteemed such; next, to those which
by art are reduced and, as it were, sublimed to truer sim-
plicity, he shall perhaps, if in the rest he err not, add to in-
ventions some things not to be contemned, and next to in-
ventions. But he shall effect nothing against the greater
secularities of things, nor shall he be named an inter-
preter.

Of the Qualities of the Interpreter.

9. Let him who comes to interpret thus prepare and
qualify himself; let him not be a follower of novelty, nor
of custom or antiquity ; neither let him embrace the license
of contradicting or the servitude of authority. Let him
not be hasty to affirm or unrestrained in doubting, but let
him produce every thing marked with a certain degree of
probation. Let hope be the cause of labour to him not of
idleness. Let him estimate things not by their rareness,
difficulty, or credit, but by their real importance. Let him
manage his private affairs under a mask, yet with some
regard for the provisions of things. Let him prudently
observe the first entrances of errors into truths, and of
truths into errors, nothing contemning or admiring. Let
him know the advantages of his nature; and let him
humour the nature of others, for no man is angry with the
stone that is striking him. Let him as it were with one
eye scan the natures of things; with the other, the uses of
mankind. Of words let him distinctly know the mixed
nature, which especially partakes of advantage and of in-
convenience. Let him determine that with inventions the
art of inventing grows. Also let him not be vain in con-
cealing or in setting forth the knowledge which he hath
obtained, but ingenuous and prudent, and let him com-
mend his inventions, not ambitiously or spitefully, but first
in a manner most vivid and fresh, that is, most fortified
against the injuries of time, and most powerful for the
propagation of science, then least capable of begetting
errors, and, above all, such as mayprocure him a legiti-
mate reader.

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 9]

Of the Duty of the Interpreter.

10. Thus qualified and prepared let the interpreter pro-
ceed in this way. He will consider the condition of man,
and remove the impediments of interpretation ; then, girded
up for his work, he will prepare a history and regular series
of tables, at the same time appointing their uses, coordina-
tions, occurrences, and appendages. He will exhibit the
solitude of things and their resemblance of each other.
He will also make a selection of things, and those which
are most primitive or instant, that is, conduce especially to
the invention of other things, or to human wants, he will
place first in order. He will also observe the preeminences
of instances, which can do much to shorten his work.
And thus furnished, he will at length maturely and hap-
pily undertake and complete, rearrangements and new
tables, and the interpretation itself now easy and following
spontaneously, nay, almost as if snatched away from the
mind. Which when he shall have accomplished, he will
immediately perceive and number, in their pure and native
light, the true, eternal, and simplest motions of nature,
from the ordinate and well adjusted progress of which
arises all this infinite variety, both of the present and of all
ages. And meanwhile from the beginning of his work he
will not fail to receive constantly, as interest, for human
affairs many things and unknown. But from hence again,
altogether directing himself to and intent upon the uses of
mankind, and the present state of things, he will, in di-
verse ways, dispose and arrange the whole for action. To
natures the most secret he will assign others explanatory,
and to the most absent others superinductory. And then
‘at last, like a second nature, he will institute generalities,
the errors of which may be accounted monsters, yet also
saving to himself the prerogative of his art.

Of the Provision of Things.

11. But thou receivest these things with languid hope
and zeal, my son, and wonderest, if there remains such
store of works most fruitful and altogether unknown, that
they have not before this time, or now suddenly, been dis-
covered ; at the same time thou inquirest what they are by
name, and promisest to thyself immortality, or freedom
from pain, or transporting pleasure. But thou bestowest
liberally upon thyself, my son, and wilt hunt after hope
from knowledge, as from ignorance thou didst begin to

92 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

hunt despair. Is it also by art that the work must be
adopted. Yet, as far as may be, I shall satisfy thy doubt,
and obey thee. That these things are suddenly known,
my son, is no wonder. .Knowledge is of quick, time of
tardy birth. Also the noble things which were invented
before these, were not by the light of former knowledge
gradually invented, but by chance (as they say) abun-
dantly. But in things mechanical there is a certain exten-
sion of what is already invented, which yet deserves not
the name of new invention. The way is not long, my son,
but ambiguous. Yet when I say that these things have
not come to view before this time, hast thou ascertained,
how much was known to all antiquity, or in all countries,
or even to single individuals. But I almost agree with
thee, my son, and will lead thee higher by the hand.
Thou doubtest not but that if men had never existed,
many of the things which are made by art (as they say)
would have been wanting, as marble statues, clothes. But
now, and men have not they too their motions which they
obey? Truly, my son, more subtle, and more difficult to
comprehend by knowledge, yet equally certain. Indeed,
you will say, men obey their will. I hear, but this is
nothing. Such a cause as fortune is in the universe, such
is the will in man. If any thing therefore is produced yet
not without man, and lies also beyond the ways of man, is
it not equal to nothing? Man lights upon certain inven-
tions which as it were present themselves, others he attains
to by foreseeing the end and knowing the means. The
knowledge of the means however he derives from things
obvious. In which number then shall be placed those
inventions which from things obvious receive neither ob-
vious effect nor method and light of operation? Such
works are called Epistemides, or daughters of science,
which do not otherwise come. into action than by know-
ledge and pure interpretation, seeing they contain nothing
obvious. But between these and the obvious how many
degrees thinkest thou are numbered? Receive, my son,
and seal.

12. In the last place, my son, I counsel thee, as is espe-
cially necessary, with an enlightened and sober mind to
distinguish the interpretation of things divine and things
natural, and not to suffer these in any way to be mingled
together. Errors enough there are in this kind. Nothing
is learnt here unless by the similitudes of things to each
other: which, though they seem most dissimilar, do yet

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 93

contain a genuine similitude known to the interpreter.
But God is as similar to thee and without a figure. Where-
fore expect from hence no sufficient light for the knowledge
of him. Give faith to what is of faith.

CHAPTER FIRST.
Legitimate Mode of delivering.

I PERCEIVE, my son, that many in bringing forward, or on
the othér hand in concealing the knowledge of things
which they conceive themselves to have attained, do woways
conduct themselves according to their credit and duty.
With equal detriment, though perhaps less blame, do those
also offend who, though of excellent qualifications, are yet
imprudent, and possess no art or precepts concerning the
several modes of propounding things. Yet need we not
make complaint regarding this malignity or ignorance in
the teachers of knowledge. If indeed through the unskil-
fulness of teaching they were to destroy the importance of
things, one might be angry not without cause; but we
ought to consider that the importunity of teaching doth
even by right belong to the impertinences of things. But
far different from these, when I am going to impart to thee,
not the fictions of ingenuity, nor the shadows of words or
the devotion mingled therewith, nor certain popular obser-
vations, or certain noble experiments trimmed up into the
fables of theory, but in truth to bind and make over unto
thee nature with her offspring; does the argument I have
before me seem worthy of being polluted by the ambition
or ignorance or faultiness of any sort with which it is
treated? May I be such, my son, and may I so extend to
its given limits the narrowness never enough lamented of
man’s empire over the universe (which of things human is
my sole wish), that most faithfully and from the deepest
providence of my mind, and the well explored state of
things and of minds, I may deliver these to thee in the
most legitimate mode of all. But now which (thou wilt
say) is that legitimate mode? Dismiss all art and circum-
stance, exhibit the matter naked to us, that we may be
enabled to use our judgment. And would that you were
in a condition, dearest son, to admit of this being done.
Thinkest thou, that, when all the accesses and motions of
all minds are besieged and obstructed by the obscurest
idols deeply rooted and branded in, the sincere and po-

94 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

lished areas present themselves in the true and native rays
of things? A new method must be entered upon, by which
we may glide into minds the most obstructed. For as the
delirium of phrenetics is subdued by art and ingenuity,
but by force and contention raised to fury; so in this uni-
versal insanity we must use moderation. What? Are
these conditions trifling which pertain to the legitimate
mode of communicating knowledge? Do they seem to
thee so free and easy, that the method is innocent, that it
affords no handle or occasion for error? that it has a cer-
tain inherent and innate power of conciliating belief and
repelling the injuries of time, so that knowledge thus
delivered, like a plant full of life’s freshness, may spread
daily and grow to maturity? that it will set apart for
itself, and as it were adopt, a legitimate reader? And
whether I shall have accomplished all this or not, I appeal
to future time.

CHAPTER SECOND.

Bur plainly I dissemble not, my son, that in some way I
must remove those philosophasters, fuller of fables than the
very poets, the ravishers of minds, falsifiers of things; and
much more also, their satellites and parasites, that profes-
sorial and money-gaming crowd: who dictates the song,
that I may devote them to oblivion? For what silence can
there be for truth, when they are thus clamorous with their
brutish and inarticulate reasons ? But perhaps it were safer
to condemn them by name, lest, while they flourish with
such authority, if not named they may seem to be excepted,
or lest any might conceive, seeing such severe and mortal
hatred at work amongst them, and such contentions, that
I were sent to these battles of larves and shadows to give
assistance to the other side. Let us then summon Aristotle,
worst of sophists, crazed with useless subtlety, base laugh-
ing stock of words. At a time when the human mind,
carried by some chance as by favourable weather to some-
what of truth, did rest, he ventured to lay the severest
shackles on the mind, and to compose a kind of art of in-
sanity, and to bind us to words. Nay, also, out of his
bosom have been produced and nourished those most cun-
ning prattlers, who, when they had turned away from all -
perambulation of this earth, and from all light of things
and of history, exhibited to us, chiefly from the exceeding
ductile materials of his precepts and positions, and from

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 95

the unquiet agitation of their own ingenuity, the manifold
sweepings of the schools. But this their dictator is so much
the more to blame than they, since even when engaged in
the evident things of history, he brought back the darkest
idols of some subterranean den; and erected even upon the
history itself of particular things certain works as of spiders,
which he wished to seem causes, whereas they are utterly
without strength or value. Such also in our times hath
Geronimo Cardano constructed, both at variance with things
and with himself. Yet augur not, my son, that while I
entertain this opinion against Aristotle, | have conspired
with his rebel, a certain Pierre Ramus. No commerce
have I with this nest of ignorance, most pernicious moth of
letters, who twists and presses things with the chains of
his method and compendium, till the things indeed, if any
there be, escape altogether and leap out; but he himself
grasps the arid and most deserted trifles. And Aquinas,
indeed, with Scotus and his fellows, contrived a variety of
things, even when their subjects were non-entities ; but this
man hath, even on subjects having real existence, produced
the vacuity of non-entity. And although he is such a man,
yet doth he impudently talk of uses to mankind, so that
even when compared with the sophists he seems to prevari-
cate. Butlet us dismiss these. And now let Plato be sum-
moned, that polite caviller, tumid poet, insane theologian.
And surely when thou wast filing and putting together
I know not what philosophic rumours, and simulating
knowledge by dissembling it, and tempting and loosening
men’s minds with vague inductions, thou mightest either
have ministered discourses to the feasts of literate and
are men, or also grace and love to ordinary discourses.

ut when thou didst counterfeit truth, which is as it were
the indigenous inhabitant of the human mind, migrating
from nowhere else, and didst turn aside our minds, which
are never sufficiently applied and brought back to history
and to things themselves, and teach them to enter into
themselves, and under the name of contemplation to wallow
amid their blind and most confused idols, thou didst then
commit a capital offence. And afterwards, with scarcely
less naughtiness, didst thou mtroduce an apotheosis of
folly, and dare to defend with religion thy meanest cogita-
tions. For it is a slighter evil that thou hast been the
parent of philologers, and that under thy guidance, and the
auspices of thy manifold genius, ensnared and satisfied with
fame and the popular and smooth jucundity of the know-

96 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

ledge of things, they did corrupt the severer investigation
of truth. Among these were Marcus Cicero, and Anneus
Seneca, and Plutarch of Chaeronea, and many others
nowise equal to these. Let us now proceed to physicians.
I see Galen, a man of the narrowest mind, a forsaker of
experience, and a most vain pretender. Art not thou he,
Galen, who took away even the infamy of ignorance and
indolence in physicians, and put them in safety, the most
sluggish definer of their art and duty ? who, by declaring
so many disorders to be incurable, proscribest so many of
the sick, cutting off their hope and the industry of physi-
cians. O, dogstar! O, pestilence! Eagerly seizing and
displaying thy fiction of mixture, the prerogative of nature,
and thy sedition between the heat of stars and of fire, de-
ceitfully reducest human power to order, and seekest to
defend for ever thy ignorance by despair. Thou art un-
worthy to be longer detained. Thou mayest also take
away with thee thy fellows and confederates the Arabians,
the framers of dispensatories, who, in theories as madly as
the rest, did, more copiously indeed, from the supinest
conjectures, compound the promises rather than the aids
of vulgar medicines. Take also thy companions the care-
less crowd of moderns. Ho! Nomenclator, call them. But
he replies, they are unworthy of having their names pre-
served by him. As, however, I recognise certain grades
among triflers of this kind, the worst and most absurd sort
are those who in method and accurate discussion compre-
hend universal art, and are usually applauded for their
elocution and arrangement; such is Fernelius. Those do
less harm, who display a greater variety and propriety of
observations, though diluted with and immersed in the
most foolish pretences; as Arnoldus de Villa Nova, and
others the like sort. I perceive, on the other side, the
cohort of chymists, among whom Paracelsus boasts himself
above the rest; who by his audacity merits separate cor-
rection. What oracles of Bacchus dost thou pour out in
thy new meteorics, thou rival of Epicurus? Yet he, as if
asleep, or doing something else, did in this matter as it
were commit his opinions to fate. Thou, more foolish than
any fate art ready to swear to the words of the absurdest
falsehood. But let us see thy other works. What mutual
imitations of the fruits of thy elements? what correspon-
dencies; what parallels dreamest thou, O fanatical joiner
of idols! for thou hast made man indeed a pantomime.
Yet how notable are those interpunctions, thy species

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 97

namely, by which thou hast broken the unity of nature.
Wherefore I can better endure Galen weighing his elements,
than thee adorning thy dreams. For the occult properties
of things excite him, but thee the common and promis-
cuous qualities. Meanwhile, unhappy we, that dwell amid
such odious impertinences! But how eagerly this most
skilful impostor inculcates the triad of principles, a fiction
not altogether useless, and somewhat allied to things! Hear
still graver charges! By mingling things divine with things
natural, profane with sacred, heresies with fables, thou
hast polluted (O sacrilegious impostor !) truth, both human
' and religious. The light of nature (whose most sacred
name thou so often usurpest with impure mouth) thou hast
not hid, like the sophists, but extinguished. They were
the deserters of experience, thou the betrayer. Subjecting
by rule the crude and masked evidence of things to con-
templation, and seeking the Proteuses of substances accord-
ing to the computations of motions, thou hast endeavoured
to corrupt the fountains of knowledge, and to strip the
human mind ; and thou hast increased with new and adsci-
titious windings and tediousness of experiments, those to
which the Sophists were averse, and the Empiricks unequal;
so far art thou from having followed or known the repre-
sentation of experience. And also the boastings of the Magi
thou hast every where done thy utmost to amplify, forcing
the most importunate cogitations by hope, and hope by pro-
mises, at once the contriver and the work of imposture.
Among thy followers, Paracelsus, I envy thee none but
Petrus Severinus, a man not deserving to spend his life
amid such impertinences. Surely thou art much indebted
to him, Paracelsus, because he rendered the things which
thou (O adopted of asses) used to bray, harmonious and
pleasant, by a certain melody and modulation, and most
agreeable diversity of words, converting the odiousness of
falsehoods into the delights of fable. Yet I pardon thee,
Severinus, if, weary of the learning of sophists, which is not
only fruitless, but professedly courteth despair, thou sought-
est other supports for our decaying affairs. And when those
pretensions of Paracelsus presented themselves, commended
by the proclamations of ostentation, and the subterfuges of
obscurity, and the affinities of religion, and other adorn-
ments, thou didst surrender thyself with a certain impulse
of indignation to these, not fountains of things but openings
of hope. Thou wouldst have acted rightly and in order, if
from the maxims of ingenuity thou hadst turned to the de-

VOL. XV. : H

98 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

crees of nature, which would have held out to thee not only
art short, but also life long. And now, having passed sen-
tence against Paracelsus, | perceive the rest of the chymists
fixed in astonishment. They immediately acknowledge his
decrees, which he himself promulgated rather than estab-
lished, and fortified by arrogance (plainly not after the
ancient discipline), instead of caution ; when, indeed, these
men, reconciled to each by much reciprocation of lying,
every where hold forth abundant hope, and wandering
through the by-ways indeed of experience, do at times, by
chance, not conduct, hit upon some things useful. Yet in
their theories they (as disciples of the furnace) have not
withdrawn from their art. But, as that wanton youth,
when he discovered a boat upon the shore, sought to build
a ship; so these coalmen, from a few experiments of distil-
lations, have attempted to erect a philosophy, which is
everywhere obnoxious to those most absurd idols of separa-
tions and liberations. Yet I count them not all alike; for
as much as there is a useful sort of them, who, not very
solicitous about theories, do by a kind of mechanic subtlety
lay hold of the extensions of things; such is Bacon. There
is a base and detestable sort, who everywhere seek applause
for their theories, by religion, hope, imposture, wooing, and
supplicating for it; such is Isaac Hollandus, and by far
the greater part of the rabble of chymists. And now let
us summon Hippocrates, the creature of antiquity and the
seller of years, to whose authority, when both Galen and
Paracelsus with much zeal strive to betake themselves, as
to the shadow of the ass, who bursts not into laughter?
And truly this man seems to cling to experience with per-
petual steadfast looking, yet with eyes not moving and in-
quiring, but stupid and enfeebled. Afterwards, his sight
recovering somewhat from the stupor, he receives certain
idols, not indeed those huge idols of theories, but the more
elegant which encompass the superficies of history; on
swallowing which swelling, and half a sophist, and (after
the manner of his age) sheltered by brevity, he at length
(as these two think) sets forth his oracles, of which they
seek to be esteemed the interpreters; while in reality he
does nothing but either deliver certain sophistications in
sentences abrupt and suspended, thus withdrawing them
from confutation; or invest with stateliness the observations
of rustics. And nearest (as is commonly believed) to his
precepts, which are not so unsound as useless, approaches
Cornelius Celsus, but a more intense sophist, and more

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 99

bound to history modified, sprinkling the same moral
moderation upon the progress of knowledge, and ampu-
tating the extremes of error, not rooting out the principles.
And regarding these, what we have said is most true.
But I now hear thee, my son, inquiring whether perhaps,

as is done, they have not sought after the worst parts, espe-
cially as the state of knowledge is always almost demo-
cratic? Hath not time, like a river, brought down to us
the light and inflated, and sunk the solid and weighty ;
What of those ancient inquirers after truth, Heraclitus,
Democritus, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras, Empedocles, and
others, known by the writings of others, not by their own?
Lastly, what deem you of the silence and the secrets of
antiquity? My son, (that I may answer these inquiries, as

is usual with me, for thy benefit), I recognize a few frag-
ments of antiquity (of books found I speak not), yet these

as specimens rather of the diligence and ingenuity than
the knowledge of their authors. But if I hint that those
searchings of conjectures respecting things, which with
their footsteps have fled away, are laborious; and that for

4 me, studying the utility of mankind for time coming, it
@ were unfitting to turn back to the philology of antiquity,
I know sufficiently that in thy modesty thou wouldst
acquiesce. Nevertheless that thou mayest perceive what two-
faced prophets things present are, and how they bring before

us things both past and future, I have resolved to gratify thee
with tables of both times (which may comprise not only the
courses and flowings of knowledge, but also other provisions

of things). And do not augur what this may be (before
seeing it), for the true anticipation of this matter falls not to
thee, and if it come not to thy hand, seek it not. For in this
matter, my son, I shall gratify some of you, and conciliate
the minds of the more delicate. Knowledge indeed is to
tag be sought from the light of nature, not recovered from the
obscurity of antiquity. Nor is it of importance what may
have been done; we have only to see what can be done.
If a kingdom, subdued by arms and victorious war, were
delivered to thee, wouldst thou frame questions whether or
not thy ancestors had possessed it, and solicit the rumours
of genealogies? So much for the recesses of antiquity.
But concerning those leaders of sects, whom thou hast
named, and many more of like sort, it is easy to decide.
Variety is proper to error, unity to truth. And unless the
politics and provisions of the times had been adverse to the
peregrinations of such minds, many other regions of error

100 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

would have been wandered over. For an immense ocean
encompasses the island of truth; and men have still to
endure new damages and scatterings from the winds of
idols. Nay, even two or three days ago Bernardinus Tele-
sius mounted the stage, and enacted a new play, neither
frequent in applause, nor elegant in argument. Dost thou
not observe, my son, that the contrivers both of eccentrics
and of epicycles, and the charioteers of the earth, delight in
the impartial and ambiguous advocation of phenomena?
It is exactly so in universal theories. For as if any one,
knowing only the use of his vernacular tongue, (attend, my
son, for this is very similar), undertake to write an un-
known speech, in which, observing some few words ap-
proaching in sound and letters to those of his own lan-
guage, he immediately and confidently assumes them to be
of the same signification (though more frequently far
removed-from it); then, by collating these together, with
much labour of ingenuity but also much liberty, he divines
the remaining sense of the oration; altogether such also
are those interpreters of nature found to be. For each
bringing his idols (I speak not now of those of the stage,
but especially of the market and of the den), like diverse
vernacular tongues, to history, immediately seizes the
things which sound somewhat alike; from the symmetry
of these the rest are interpreted. And now it is time, my
son, for us to recover and purge ourselves, seeing we have
been hahdling (though with purpose of importing) things
so profane and polluted. But against all these I have said
less than their guilt deserved. Yet perhaps thou com-
prehendest not this censure. For be assured, my son, the
judgment I have pronounced against them is nothing less
than contumely. For I have not conducted myself like
Velleius with Cicero, a declaimer and philologist cursorily
touching opinions, and rather casting them away than des-
troying them; or like Agrippa the modern, in speech of
that kind not to be named indeed, but a trivial buffoon,
distorting every a and holding it out to ridicule (un-
happy me who in defect of men am forced to compare my-
self with brutes!). But on looking back afterwards thou
wilt discern, under the veil of reproach, wondrous airs of
accusations, with singular art contracted and reduced
almost to single words, and with keenest glance directed and
brandished against the very ulcers themselves of offence.
And whenthey might have been much mingled and entangled
together in their crimes and guilt, I have by their most pecu-

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 101

liar marks, but those capital, condemned them singly. For
the human mind, my son, puffed up with the incursions
and observations of things, contrives and educes very

various species of error. But Aristotle is as a taller plant

of one species, so also Plato, and others besides. Yet thou
requirest particular confutations. Verily it were a great
sin against the golden fortune of mankind, the pledge of
empire, for me to turn aside to the pursuit of most fleeting
shadows. One bright and radiant light of truth, my son,
must be placed in the midst, which may illuminate the
whole, and in a moment dispel all errors. Certain feeble

and pale lamps are not to be carried round to the several

corners and holes of errors and falsehoods. Wherefore,
my son, detest what you were seeking; for it is very pro-
fane. But now I hear thee asking: Is all that the whole
of these have asserted altogether false and vain? Truly,
my son, this is unhappiness and that prodigious, not igno-
rance. For no man does not at times hit upon something
true. When Heraclitus remarked, that knowledge is to be
sought by men in private worlds, not in the common world,
I perceive that he sacrificed well at the entrance of philo-
sophy. Democritus, I think, did not unhappily philoso-
phize, when attributing immense variety and infinite suc-
cession to nature, he set himself against almost all other
philosophers, the slaves of custom, and given over to secu-
larities, and by this opposition bringing both -_ into
collision, destroyed both, and opened some way for truth
between the extremes. The numbers of Pythagoras I set
down as also of good omen. Dindamus the Indian I com-

mend, for having called custom antiphysis. And to Epi-

curus disputing against the explication of causes (as they
speak) by intentions and ends, though childishly and phi-
lologically, I nevertheless not unwillingly listen. Pyrrho
also and the vacillating academics, talking from the skiff,
and conducting themselves against idols like certain mo-
rose lovers (who are always reproaching their loves, but
never desert them), I use for the sake of the mind and of
hilarity. Nor without cause: for idols drive others straight
forwards, but these in a circle, which is pleasanter. Lastly,
I should wish to have Paracelsus and Severinus for criers,
when with such clamours they convoke men to the sugges-
tion of experience. Whatthen? Are they possessed of
truth? Nothing less. And, my son, some proverbs of
rusties are apposite to truth. If the sow with her snout
should happen to imprint the letter A upon the ground ;

wR.

102 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

wouldst those therefore imagine that shecould write out a
whole tragedy as one letter? Of a far different sort is the
truth revealed from the analogy of knowledge, and the
truth from the section of an idol. The former is constant
and indefinitely germinous, the latter discordant and soli-
tary. Which happens also in works. Gunpowder, if it
had been invented by conduct, not chance (as they speak)
and accident, would not have come forth solitary, but with
great frequence of noble inventions (which fall under the
same meridian). So also the rest both works and princi-
ples. Wherefore I admonish thee, if perhaps any idol of
any of these hath in any point determined my truth, that
is, the truth of things, not to think more highly of them,
or less of me, since it is sufficiently apparent from their
ignorance of the rest, that those things themselves they
have not said from the analogy of knowledge. But thou
still urgest, my son: would you therefore order all their
writings to be converted into wrappings for incense and
perfumes? That I should not have said. For there remains
yet a short while some use of them, slight and narrow, and
far different from that which they were destined for, and
now usurp, but still some. Add to this that there are
many other writings obscurer in fame, but more excellent
in use, The morals of Aristotle and of Plato many admire ;
yet Tacitus breathes more living observations of manners.

ut at length in the proper place I shall say, what utility
can be derived from writings, and which are superior in
utility to the rest, and which smallest part of them are
gifts of those things which contribute to the interpretation
of nature. Lastly, my son, I hear thee inquiring: dost
thou suffice thyself in place of all these? I shall reply,
and that not dissemblingly, but from my inmost sense. I,
dearest son, will confirm to thee a sacred, chaste, and legi-
timate marriage with things themselves. From which in-
tercourse (above all wishes of marriage songs) thou shalt
beget a most blessed progeny of heroes, who shall subdue
the infinite necessities of man, more fatal than all giants,
and monsters, and tyrants; and for your affairs procure a
placid and festal security and plenteousness. But were I,
my son, to commit thee to the giddy intricacies of experi-
ence with a mind unpurged of idols, verily thou wouldst
soon desire a leader. Yet by my simple precepts without
the knowledge of things, thou canst not, however much
thou mayest wish it, divest thyself of idols. In tables,
unless you erase what has before been written, you can
write nothing else. But in the mind, on the contrary, un-

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 103

less you incribe something else, you cannot erase what has
before been written. And although this may be done,
although thou mayest put off the idols of friendship, yet
indeed, being uninitiated, there is danger that thou mayest
be overwhelmed by the idols of the way. Thou hast too
much accustomed thyself to a leader. At Rome, tyranny
being once established, the oath in the name of the Roman
senate and people was ever afterwards vain. Confide and
give thyself to me, my son, that I may restore thee to
thyself.

OF THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

AccounTING myself born for the use of mankind, and
judging the case of the commonweal to be one of those
things which are of public right, and like water or air lie
open to all; I sought what might be of most advantage to
men, and deliberated what I was most fitted for by nature.
I discovered that nothing is of such estimation towards the
human race, as the invention and earnest of new things
and arts, by which man’s life is adorned. For I perceive
that, even in old times among rude men, the inventors and
teachers of things rude were consecrated and chosen into
the number of the gods; and I noted that the deeds of
heroes who built cities, or were legislators, or exercised
just authority, or subdued unjust dominations, were cir-
cumscribed by: the narrowness of places and times. But
the invention of things, though it be a matter of less pomp,
I esteemed more adapted for universality and eternity.
Yet above all, if any bring forth no particular invention,
though of much utility, but kindleth a light in nature,
which from the very beginning illuminates the regions of
things, which lie contiguous to things already invented,
afterwards being elevated lays open and brings to view all
the abstrusest things; he seems to me a propagator of the
empire of man over the universe, a defender of liberty, a
conqueror of necessities. But I found myself constructed
more for the contemplations of truth than for aught else,
as having a mind sufticiently mobile for recognizing (what
is most of all) the similitude of things, and sufticiently
fixed and intent for observing the subtleties of differences,
and possessing love of investigation, patience in doubting,
pleasure in meditating, delay in asserting, facility in return-
ing to wisdom, and neither affecting novelty, nor admiring
antiquity, and hating all imposture. Wherefore I judged
my nature to have a kind of familiarity and relationship

104 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

with truth. Yet seeing by rank and education I was
trained to civil affairs, and, like a youth, sometimes stag-
gered in my opinions, and conceived I owed my country
something peculiar, and not equally pertaining to all other
parts, and hoped, if I obtained any honourable degree in
the commonwealth to perform with greater help of inge-
nuity and industry what I had intended; I both learnt
civil arts, and with all ingenuousness and due modesty,
commended myself to my friends who had some power.
And.in addition to this, because those things of whatever
kind penetrate not beyond the condition and culture of this
life, the hope occurred that I, born in no very prosperous
state of religion, might, if called to civil offices, contribute
somewhat to the safety of souls. But when my zeal was
imputed to ambition, and my age was matured, and my
disordered health also admonished me of my unhappy
slowness, and I next considered that I nowise fulfilled my
duty, while I was neglecting that by which I could through
myself benefit men, and applying myself to the things
which depended upon the will of another, I altogether
weaned myself from those thoughts, and wholly betook
myself to this work, according to my former principle.
Nor is my resolution diminished, by foreseeing in the state
of these times, a sort of declination and ruin of the learning
which is now in use; for although I dread not the incur-
sions of barbarians (unless, perhaps, the empire of Spain
should strengthen itself, and oppress and debilitate others
by arms, itself by the burden), yet from civil wars (which,
on account of certain manners not long ago introduced,
seem to me about to visit many countries), and the malig-
nity of sects, and from those compendiary artifices and cau-
tions which have crept into the place of learning, no less a
tempest seems to impend over letters and science. Nor
can the shop of the typographer suffice for those evils.
And that unwarlike learning, which is nourished by ease,
and flourishes by praise and reward, which sustains not
the vehemency of opinion, and is the sport of artifices and
impostures, is overcome by the impediments which I have
mentioned. Far different is the nature of the knowledge
whose dignity is fortified by utility and operation. And
from the injuries of time I am almost secure; but for the
injuries of men I am not concerned. For should any say
that I savour things too high, I reply simply, in civil affairs
there is place for modesty, in contemplations for truth.
But if any one require works immediately, I say, without
any imposture, that I, a man not old, frail in health, in-

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 105

volved in civil studies, coming to the obscurest of all sub-
jects without guide or light, have done enough, if I have
constructed the machine itself and the fabric, though I
may not have employed or moved it. And with the same
candour, I profess that the legitimate interpretation of na-
ture, in the first ascent before arriving at a certain degree
of generals, should be kept pure and separate from all
application to works. Moreover, I know that all those who
have in some measure committed themselves to the waters
of experience, seeing they were infirm of purpose, or desirous
of ostentation, have at the entrance unreasonably sought
pledges of works, and have thence been confounded and
shipwrecked. But if any requires at least particular pro-
mises, let him know that by that knowledge, which is now
in use, men are not skilled enough even for wishing. But,
what is of less moment, should any of the politicians, whose
custom it is from personal calculations to estimate every
thing, or from examples of like endeavours to form conjec-
ture, presume to interpose his judgment in a matter of this
sort, [ would have told that ancient saying, “ claudus in
via, cursorem extra viam antevertit,” and not to think
about examples, since the matter is without example. But
the method of publishing these things is, to have such of
them as tend to seize the correspondences of dispositions,
and purge the areas of minds, given out to the vulgar and
talked of; to have the rest handed down with selection
and judgment. Nor am I ignorant that it is a common
and trite artifice of impostors to keep apart from the vulgar
certain things which are nothing better than the imperti-
nences they set forth to the vulgar. But without any im-
posture, from sound providence, I foresee that this formula
of interpretation, and the inventions made by it, will be
more vigorous and secure when contained within legitimate
and chosen devices. Yet I undertake these things at the
risk of others. For none of those things which depend
upon externals concerns me: nor do I hunt after fame, or,
like the heretics, take delight in establishing a sect ; and to
receive any private emolument from so great an undertak-
ing, I hold to be both ridiculous and base. Sufficient for
me is the consciousness of desert, and the very accomplish-
ment itself of things, which even fortune cannot withstand.

J. A.C.

106

TRUE HINTS ON THE INTERPRETATION
OF NATURE.

The First Part of this Tract forms the Preface to the
Novum Organum, Vol. IX. p. 185—190, translated by
Mr. Wood, Vol. XIV. p. 27—30.

OUTLINE AND ARGUMENT OF THE SECOND PART OF THE
INSTAURATION.

KrEPING then in view our plan, we shall exhibit the whole
subject perspicuously, and with orderly distribution of the %
parts. Wherefore let us now unfold the design and ar-
rangement of this second part. We devote this part to the
doctrine of a better and more perfect use of reason than
hath heretofore been known or promulgated to men, with
purpose (as far as the terms of this mortal state permit) to
agegrandize and enlarge the human intellect with power to
conquer and interpret the mystery of nature. To the inter-
pretation itself we have dedicated three books, the third, the
fourth, and the fifth; for the sixth, which consists of anti-
cipations drawn from the ordinary use of reason, it is to
be taken only as temporary and provisional, and when in
time it shall have begun to acquire solidity, and to be ve-
rified by the methods of legitimate reason, it is shifted, and
as it were migrates of itself into the sixth.

But to this second book is apportioned the intellect
itself, its treatment and regulation, and the entire system
of preparation and training leading to the right conduct of
the understanding. And although the term logic or dia-
lectics, by reason of the depravations of the art, sounds
repulsive in our ears, yet to lead men as it were so far by
the hand in their wonted tracks, we acknowledge the art
which we profess to be of the nature of logic,—so far as logic,
(the common logic I mean), supplies aids and constructs de-
fences for the intellect. Yet ours differs from the received
logic, besides other points of opposition, principally in three ;
namely, its mode of entering on inquiry, its order of de-
monstration, and its end and office. It goes deeper to find

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 107

a foundation and basis for inquiry, by subjecting to inves-
tigation what the received logic admits as it were on the
credit of others, and in a blind submission to authority,
principles, primary notions, and the informations of the
senses; and it reverses downright its order of demonstra-
tion, by making propositions and axioms, in an unbroken
line, ascend and mount on a ladder of elevation, from re-
corded facts and particular experiments to generic verities,
not by darting without a pause to principles and the higher
generalizations, and from them deducing and inferring in-
termediate truths. Again, the end of this our scheme of
science is, that things and works, not reasonings and spe-
culative probabilities, may be invented and brought to the
test.

Such then is the scope of the second book. Let us now,
in like manner, set forth its arrangement. As in the gene-
ration of light it is requisite that the body which is to
receive the rays be made smooth and clean, and then
planted in a position or conversion duly adapted to the illu-
mination, before the light itself is introduced, even so we
must proceed now. For first the area of the mind must be
levelled out and cleared of those things which have hitherto
encumbered it; next, there must be a turning of the mind
well and fittingly to the objects which are presented ; lastly,
information must be exhibited to the mind thus prepared
for its reception.

Now the extirpating part is threefold, according to
the three several classes of idols which beset the mind.
For such idols are either adoptive, and that in two ways,
having invaded and established themselves in the mind
from the systems and sects of philosophy, or from an abuse
of the laws and methods of demonstration; or secondly,
they are such as are inseparable from. and indigenous in
the essence of the mind. For as an uneven and ill cut
mirror distorts the true rays of things according to its own
incurvation of surface; so, too, the mind, subjected to the
impression of objects through the senses, in performing its
operations, interchanges and mixes up its own nature with
that of its objects, so as it may not be implicitly trusted.

Wherefore the first task imposed upon us is to disperse
utterly, and to expatriate all that army of theories which
has figured in so many well fought combats. To this we
add a second, the emancipation of the mind from the slave
imposed on it by perverted laws of demonstration ; wifich,
is followed by a third, namely, to master the seductive bias

108 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

of the mind itself, and either to extirpate its native idols,
or if they cannot be rooted up, so to point them out and
thoroughly comprehend them, that deviations may be recti-
fied. For it would be futile, and perhaps pernicious, merely
to overturn and explode errors in philosophy, if from the
incorrigible grain of the mind a new off-shoot of errors, per-
haps even degenerated from their predecessors, should~
sprout; and not till all hope is precluded, of perfecting
philosophy or enlarging its empire by the exercise of or-
dinary reason, and by the helps and aids of the received
logic, ought we to abandon and discard. them; lest haply
we do not thereby banish, but only change our errors.
Wherefore that part of the book which we term the des-
troying, consists of a threefold argument of redargution
or exposure ; redargution of the philosophies ; redargution
of the demonstrations ; and redargution of human reason in
its natural course.

And it does not escape us, that without so immense a
revolution, no small accretion to science might result from
our labours, and celebrity be attainable by a smoother path.
Nevertheless, being uncertain when the same views may
enter the mind of any other man, we have determined to
make a full and free profession of our creed.

After having levelled the area of the mind, it follows in
order, that we must place the mind in an advantageous
position, and, as it were, in a kindly exposure to the rays
of what we propound. For since, in a matter of novelty,
not merely the violent preoccupation of old opinion, but
also a false preconception or conjectural picture of that
which is offered, disposes to prejudice, we must also apply
a remedy to this disorder, and the mind must not only be
disencumbered but prepared. That preparation is nothing
more than to have true opinions of that which we allege
imparted Jacinrst only, as it. were, and by way of loan, ~
previous to a thorough knowledge of the thing itself. Now
this mainly depends on shutting out and holding in abey-
ance those foul and malign suspicions, which we may easily
augur, will from the prejudices now in vogue, as from the
contagion of an epidemic fanatical gloom, seize upon men’s
minds; wherefore it behoves us to see, as Lucretius hath it,

« Ne qua
Occurrat facies inimica atque omnia turbet.”

First then, if any one think that the secrets of nature
remain shut up, as it were, with the seal of God, and by

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 109

some divine mandate interdicted to human wisdom, we shall
address ourselves to remove this weak and jealous notion,
and, relying on simple truth, shall bring the inquiry to this
issue, not only to silence the howl of superstition, but to
draw religion herself to our side. Again, if the idea should
occur to any one, that great and scrupulous delay in expe-
riments, and the tossing about, so to speak, on a sea of matter
and particular facts, which we impose on men, must needs
plunge the mind intoa very Tartarus of confusion, and cast
it down from the serenity and coolness of contemplative
wisdom, as from a far diviner state,—we shall show and
establish, as we trust, for ever, (not without putting to the
blush the whole of that school which hesitates not to con-
cede divine, honours to fantastic reveries utterly bereft of
solidity), the difference that prevails between the ideas of
the divine and the idols of the human mind. Those also
to whom, absorbed in the love of meditation, our frequent
mention of works sounds harsh, uncouth, and mechanical,
shall be instructed how much they war against the attain-
ment of their own object of desire, since exact clearness of
contemplation, and the invention of works its underplatform,
depend upon and are brought to perfection by the same
means. If any one should still hold out, conceiving of this
absolute regeneration of science from its elements, as a
thing interminable, vast, and infinite, we shall demonstrate
that, on the contrary, it ought to be regarded as a true
boundary and a circumscribing line, marking off the region
of error and waste land; and we shall make it manifest, that
a just and full inquisition of particulars, without attempting
to embrace individuals, gradations, and vermiculate diffe-
rences (which is enough for the purposes of science); and
then notions and truths, raised from and upon the former,
in just method, form something infinitely more defined,
tangible, and intelligible, sure of itself, and clear both in
what hath been done, and what remains to be accomplished,
than floating systems and abstract subtleties, of which there
is indeed no end, but a ceaseless gyration, whirl, and chaos.
And though some sober censor (as he may think himself),
applying to this subject that diffidence of consequences
which becomes civil prudence, should consider what we
now si to be ike men’s vain aspirations,—an indulgence
only of wild hope,—and that in truth nothing else will
follow from this remodelled state of philosophy, than that
new doctrines, perhaps, are substituted, but the resources
of mankind not at all augmented,—such a one we shall, as

110 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

we conceive, induce to admit, that we are doing any thing
but founding a system or a sect, that our institution differs
wholly and generically from all that have hitherto been at-
tempted in philosophy and the sciences,—and that there is
the surest promise of a harvest of works, if men will only
not forestal the same by hastening to cut the first worthless
vegetation of muscus and weeds, and grasping with a
childish passion and vain precipitation at the first pledges
of works. , And in handling the points we have enumerated,
enough, we think, shall have been done to guard against
that species of prejudice which is inspired by false and illi-
beral notions of the thing propounded ; and therewithal we
judge that our second part, which we call the preparatory,
is complete ;—after every adverse gust from religion, from
theoretical speculation, and from civil wisdom, with its
handmaids, distrust, phlegmatic coldness, and the like,
shall have sunk and died away.

Yet to form a preparation in all respects perfect, it seems
still to be wanting, that we remove the stagnation of mind,
which is generated by the utter novelty of our plan. This
unfriendly torpor is only dispelled by the explanation of
its causes; for it is the knowledge of its causes alone that
solves the prodigy, and puts an end to the stupor of asto-
nishment. Wherefore we shall here note all those perverse
and troublesome obstacles by which true science hath been
checked and retarded, so that it is not at all astonishing
that men should have been so long involved, and toiled on,
in the meshes of error. ;

And in this part of the subject one thing will felicitously
come in, as a solid reason’ for hope, namely, that although
the true interpretation of nature, wherein we toil, be justly
held most difficult, yet by far the greatest part of that
difficulty depends upon ad les within our own power
and admits of correction, not on things placed beyond our
sphere of capacity; I mean in the mind, not in things, or
in the senses.

Now if any one deem that scrupulous care with which we
strive to prepare men’s minds is uncalled for,—that it is of
the nature of parade, and got up for purposes of display,
and should therefore desire to see denuded of all circum-
locution and the scaffolding of preliminaries, a simple state-
ment; assuredly such an insinuation, were it founded in
truth, would come well recommended to us. Would that it
were as easy for us to conquer difficulties and obstructions,

ee

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. lll

as to cast away idle pomp and false elaboration. But this
we would have men believe, that it is not without due
exploration of the route, that we pursue our path in such a
desert, especially having in hand such a theme, as it were
monstrous to lose by incompetent handling, and to leave
exposed, as by an unnatural mother. Wherefore, duly
meditating and contemplating the state both of nature
and of mind, we find the avenues to men’s understandings
harder of access than to things themselves, and the labour
of communicating not much lighter than of excogitating ;
and, therefore, which is almost a new feature in the in-
tellectual world, we obey the humour of the time, and
play the nurse, both with our own thoughts and those of
others. For every hollow idol is dethroned by skill, in-
sinuation, and regular approaches; whereas by violence,
by opposition, and by irregular and abrupt attacks, it is
exasperated into energy. Nor does this take place only
because men, enslaved by admiration of certain authors, or
bloated with self-sufficiency, or reluctant from some habit,
will not exert their candour. Even were any one willing
in the utmost degree to exact of himself impartiality as a
duty, and to forswear as it were every prejudice, it does
not follow that we are to repose unlimited confidence in the
award ofa mind so disposed. For no man by mere energy
of will commands his intellect, the spirits of the philosophers
(as it is written of the prophets) are not subject to the
philosophers. Wherefore it is not the honesty, candour, or
openness to conviction of other men, which we are to confide
in for support, but our own care, address, and conciliation.

In which respect no small difficulty is further created to
us from our own character, having laid it down as an in-
violable law evermore to hold fast our integrity and in-
genuousness, and not to seek an entrance for truth through
hollow ways, but so to regulate our compliance as by no
subtle deception, by no imposture or ought that resembles.
imposture, but only by the light of order and the skilful
grafting of new shoots upon the healthier part of the old,
to hope for the attainment of our desires. Wherefore we
return.to this assertion, that the labour consumed by us in
_ paving the way, so far from being superfluous, is truly too
little for difficulties so considerable.

Leaving, therefore, the preparatory part, we now come to
the informing, and shall exhibit a simple and bare outline
of that art which we intend.

112 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE,

The things which make for the perfecting of the intellect
in the interpretation of nature, may be divided into three
ministrations to the same, ministration to sense, ministration
to memory, and ministration to reason. In ministration to
the senses we ‘shall make exposition of three things, first,
how a good notion is collected and elicited, and ar the
testimony of sense, which is ever according to the analogy
of man, may be reduced and rectified to the analogy of the
universe. For we do not attach much weight to the imme-
diate perceptions of sense, except only in so far as it
manifests motion or change in its objects. Secondly, we
shall show how those things which baffle the sense, either
by intangibility of the entire substance, or by minuteness
of parts, or by remoteness of place, or by slowness or celerity
of motion, or by habitual familiarity of the object, or other-
wise, may be brought under the jurisdiction of sense, and
placed at its bar; and, furthermore, in cases where they
cannot be produced, what is then to be done; and how such
deficiency may be filled up by skilful noting of gradations,
or by informations as to inanimate bodies derived from the
analogy of corrésponding sentient ones, or by other modes
and substitutions. In the last place, we shall speak of a
Natural History, and the method of performing experiments;
what that Natural History is, which will serve as a founda-
tion for philosophy; and again what method of experiment-
ing, in the want, of such natural history, must be resorted
to; wherein we shall also interweave some observations as
to calling forth and arresting the attention. For there are
many things both in natural history and in experiments,
present to knowledge, absent to use, because the apprehen-
sive faculty hath been feebly drawn forth to note them.

Ministration to the senses is comprehended in three
particulars. The senses are to be furnished with materials,
with helps where they faz/, and helps where they err. To the
materials of the senses are appropriated history and experi-
ments, to their short-comings fit substitutions, to their
declination rules of correction.

Ministration to memory hath this for its function; out
of the mass of particular facts, and the accumulation of
facts forming natural history general, it extracts a history
particular, and arranges it in such order, that the judgment
can forthwith act, and do its office. For it befits us pru-
dently to calculate the powers of the mind, and not to hope
that they can expatiate at large over the infinity of nature.
For it is manifest that the memory is defective and incom-

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 113

petent when it attempts to embrace the endless variety of
things, and, no less, that in the choosing out of such as
bear on some defined field of inquiry, it is unpractised and
unprepared. Now, as regards the former malady, the
mode of curing itiseasy. It is performed by one remedial
rule, which is that no investigation or invention be enter-
tained which is not drawn from a written statement of
results. For it were the same for one confident in the
strength of memory to try to grasp the whole interpretation
of nature on a given subject, as to endeavour to seize and
perform by rote the problems of astronomy. Besides it is
sufficiently apparent how small is the province we allot to
mere memory or discourse of reason, seeing we do not
authenticate discovery, even when detailed in writing, save
by digested tables. To the latter defect, therefore, we must
devote more attention. And, doubtless, after the subject
has been measured off and defined for inquiry, and stands
clear and unencumbered out of the mass of things, the
ministration to memory seems to consist of three operations
or offices. First, we shall show what those things are
which, in regard to the subject given or propounded seem,
on glancing over its history of facts, the proper points for
inquiry, which forms a kind of argument or topic. Secondly,
in what order these ought to be marshalled, and digested
in regular tables. Nevertheless, we expect not that the
true vein of the subject, being of the analogy of the universe,
can be discovered at the outset of the inquiry, so that the
division might follow from it, but only the apparent one, so
as to suggest some sort of partition of the subject. For
truth shall sooner emerge from falsehood than from disorder,
and reason more easily rectify the division, than penetrate
the unsubdued mass. Then, in the third place, we shall
show in what method and at what time the inquisition is
to be recommenced, and the charts or tables preceding to
be brought forward to new charts, and how often the in-
quisition is to be repeated. For we intend the first series
of charts or results to form as it were moveable axes, and
to constitute only the verifying past of the inquisition;
for we have no hope of the mind’s éver pursuing and se-
curing its rightful dominion over nature, unless by repeated
action. The ministration, therefore, to memory consists as
we have said in three doctrines, of the topics of discovery,
of the reduction into tables, and of the method of fully
establishing the inquiry.

Ministration to reason remains, to which the two former

VOL, XV. I

114 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

parts are only ancillary. For by them there is no building
up of axioms, but only the production of simple notions
with an orderly narration of facts, verified, indeed, by the
first ministration, and so exhibited by the second, as to be,
so to speak, placed at our disposal. Now that ministration to
reason claims to be most highly approved, which shall best
enable reason to perform its office and secure its end. The
office of reason is in its nature one, in its end and use
double. For the end of man is either to know and con-
template, or to act and execute. Wherefore the design of
human knowledge is to know the causes of a given effect
or quality in any object of thought. And again the design
of human agency is, upon a given basis of matter, to build or
superinduce any effect or quality within the limits of pos-
sibility. And these designs, on a close examination and
just estimate, are seen to coincide. For that which in con-
templation stands for a cause, in operation stands for a
mean, or instrument; since we know by causes and operate
by means. And doubtless if all the means which are
required, to what operations soever, were supplied to man’s
hand at pleasure, there would be no especial use in treating
of the two disjunctivel;. But since man’s operation is tied
up within much narrower circumscription than his know-
ledge, because of the innumerable necessities and limitations
of the individual, so that for the operative part there is
often demanded not so much a wisdom all-comprehensive
and free to range over possibility, as a judgment sagacious
and expert in selecting from what is immediately before us;
it is consistent with this, to consider these things as more
happily treated of apart. Wherefore we shall also make
like division of the ministration to reason, according as the
ministration is to reason active or contemplative.

As respects the contemplative part, to say it in a word,
all evidently turns on one point. And that is no other
than this, that a true axiom be established, or the same be
made conjunctive with other axioms, for this is gaining
a portion of the solid of truth, whereas a simple notion
isolated, is so to speak but its surface. Now such axiom is
not elicited or formed, save by the legitimate and appro-
priate forms of induction, which analyses and divides expe-
rience, and by proper limitations and rejections comes to
necessary conclusions. Now the popular induction (from
which the proofs of principles themselves are attempted) is
but a puerile toy, concluding at random, and perpetually
in risk of being exploded by contradictory instances: inso-

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 115

much that the dialecticians seem never once to have thought
of the subject in earnest, turning from it in a sort of dis-
dain, and hurrying on to other things. Meantime this is
manifest, that the conclusions which are attained by any
species of induction are at once both discovered and
attested, and do not depend on axioms and middle truths,
but stand on their own weight of evidence, and require no
extrinsic proof. Much more then is it necessary that those
axioms which are raised according to the true form of in-
duction, should be of self-contained proof, surer and more
solid than what are termed principles themselves; and this
kind of induction is what we have been wont to term the
formula of interpretation. Therefore it is, that we desire to
be careful and luminous, in exposition, above all other
topics, of the construction of the axiom and the formula of
interpretation. There remain, however, subservient to this
end, three things of paramount importance, without explica-
tion of which, the rule of inquisition, though potent in the
effect, may be regarded as operose in the application. These
are the continuing, varying, and contracting of the inquiry,
so that nothing may be left in the art either half-done, or
inconsistent, or too much lengthened out for the shortness
of man’s life. We shall therefore show in the first place
the use of axioms (supposing them discovered by the for-
mula,) for inquiring into and raising others higher and
more general, so that by a succession of firm and un-
broken steps in the ladder of ascent, we may arrive at
the unity of nature. In this part, however, we shall add
the mode of examining and attesting these higher axioms
by the experimental results first obtained, lest we again
fall down to conjectures, probabilities, and idol-systems.
And this is the method which we term the continuing of
the inquiry.

The varying of the inquisition accommodates itself to
the different nature, either of the causes to ascertain which
the inquiry is set on foot, or of the things or subjects
about which the inquiry is occupied. Therefore discard-
ing final causes, which have hitherto utterly vitiated natu-
ral philosophy, we shall commence with an inquiry, on the
plan of varying and adaptation, into forms, a branch which
has hitherto been abandoned as hopeless and not unrea-
sonably. For no one can be so privileged either in his
powers of mind or in his good fortune, as to detect the
form of any thing by means of presumptive conjectures
and scholastic logic. Then follow the divers sorts of mat-

116 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

ter and of efficients. Now when we use the terms matter
and eflicients, we do not point to ultimate efficients, or to
matter taken generically (such as are discussed in the dis-
putations of the schools), but to proximate efficients and
preparations of matter. Lést men should labour in these,
however, by a vain repetition and refining of experiments,
we shall in this part introduce the doctrine of discovering
latent processes. Now we give the name of latent process
to a certain series and gradation of changes, formed by the
action of an efficient and the motion of parts in matter
subjected to that action. The varying of the inquiry as it
respects its subjects is derived from two states of things,
either from their elementary or compound character, (for
there is one modification of the inquiry adapted to things
simple, another to things compound, or decomposed, or
ambiguous), or from the copiousness or poverty of the
natural history which may have been collected to advance
the inquiry. For when the history is rich in facts the
progress of the inquisition is prompt; when limited, it is
labour in shackles, and demands manifold assiduity and
skill. So then by handling the points we have now re-
counted, we shall have, as it seems to us, sufficiently dis-
cussed the varying of the inquiry.

There remains the contracting of the inquiry, so as not
only to demonstrate and make patent a way in places path-
less before, but a short cut in that way, and as it were a
straight line of progression, which shall go direct through
circuitous and perplexed routes. Now this (like every
other kind of abridging) consists mainly in the selection
of things. And we shall find that there are in things
two prerogatives, so to speak, of sovereign efficacy in
abridging investigation, the prerogative of the imstance,
and the prerogative of that which is inquired into. Where-
fore we shall point out in the first place what those in-
stances or experiments are, which are privileged above the
rest to give forth light, so that a few of them afford as
much weight as a multitude of others. For this both
saves accumulation of the history and the toil of beating
about indefinitely. We shall then expound what are the
subjects of inquisition, from which the investigation ought
to borrow its prelibation of omens, as those which being
first disposed of, carry, as it were, a torch before their suc-
cessors, either by reason of their own consummate cer-
tainty, or generic quality, or from their being indispensable
to mechanical trials. And here we close the ministration
to reason regarded in its character of contemplative.

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 117

The doctrine of the active part of reason and its minis-
tration, we shall comprehend in three directions, first pre-
mising two admonitions to open an entrance into the
minds of men. The first of these is, that in the inquiry,
proceeding according to the formula laid down, the active
part of reason should have a perpetual intercommunion
with the contemplative. For the nature of things con-
strains that the propositions and axioms inferred and
trained down to particular and practical uses, by process
of reasoning, should yield only a sort of guesses exceed-
ingly obscure and imperfect. Whereas an axiom drawn
from particulars to new and corresponding ones, leads on
investigation in a broad and indestructible path. The
other premonition is this, that we remember that, in the
active branch of the inquiry, the business is to be accom-
plished by means of the ladder of descent, the use of which
we waived in the contemplative. For every operation is
occupied about individual experiments whose place is at
the bottom of all. We must therefore descend the steps
that he between general truths and these. Nor, again, is
it practicable to get at these by means of axioms taken
unconnectedly ; for every practical operation, and the mode
of performing it, is at once suggested and effected by
applying a combination of isolated axioms. With these
preliminaries then, we come to our threefold exposition
of the doctrine. of active interpretation. The first part
propounds a defined and appropriate method of inquiry, in
which not the cause or governing axiom, but the effecting
of any operation is the object in view, and is submitted to
examination. The second shows the way of making gene-
ral tables with a special view to practice, in which may be
much more easily and readily found all sorts of sugges-
tions and indications of works. The third subjoins a mode
of ascertaining and striking out new practical uses, an in-
complete mode no doubt, and yet not without utility, which
travels from one experiment to another, without deducing
of axioms. For as from axiom to axiom, so from experi-
ment to experiment, there is presented and opened up a
passage to discovery, narrow itdeed and slippery, yet not
to be wholly passed over in silence. And here ye con-
clude the ministration to practice being the last in the
order of distribution. This then is a plain and succinct
abstract of the second book.

These things being unfolded, we trust to have well con-
structed and furnished withal, the marriage chamber of
mind and the universe, the divine goodness not disdaining

118 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

to be bridemaid. Let it then be the votive part of the
nuptial hymn, that from their union may rise and descend
a progeny of helps to man’s life, a line, so to speak, of
heroes to conquer and command the wants and the mise-
ries of humanity.

At the conclusion we shall add some remarks on the
combination and the succession of scientific efforts. For
then, and not till then, shall men know their own strength,
not when multitudes devote themselves as now to the same
tasks, but when some shall appropriate what is neglected
by the rest. Nor truly have we abandoned hope of after-
times, that there shall rise up men to advance to a nobler
state a work commencing from such slender beginnings.
For it is borne in upon our mind, that what is now done,
from the supreme importance of the good it contains to
man, is manifestly of God. And in His workings, every
the most insignificant germ of the future is pregnant with
results.

_ Now in the redargution of the received philosophies
which we intend, we scarcely know whither at first to turn
ourselves, since the avenue to confutation of the same,
which was to others open, is to us inhibited. And besides,
so many and so vast are the troops of error which present
themselves, that we must overthrow and dislodge them,
not in close detail but in mass: and if we would draw near
unto them, and try conclusions, hand to hand, with each of
them individually, it were in vain: the rule of all reasons,
ing being set aside, differing as we do from them in our
principles, and repudiating as we do the very forms and
authority of their proofs and demonstrations. And if
(which seems to be the only thing left for us to do) we
attempted to infer and derive from experience the truths
we maintain, we are only turning back to the starting
point. And forgetting what we have discoursed of the
preparing of men’s minds, we are found going directly the
opposite way: and falling all at once and prematurely on
nature; to which we have pronounced it absolutely neces-
sary that we open up and pave a way, because of the obdu-
rate prejudices 4nd impediments of the minds of men.
Nevertheless we shall not be wanting to ourselves, but shall
try to confront them, and prove our strength, in manner
accommodated to our design, both by producing certain
tokens from which an estimate may be formed of these
philosophies, and meanwhile noting among the philoso-
phies themselves, so as to shake their authority, certain

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. 119

prodigies of perversion, and laughing-stocks to intelligence,
which they furnish.

Yet it escapes us not that the mass of such errors is
too much consolidated to be at once overthrown; espe-
cially as among learned men, it is no unusual or unheard of
arrogance, wilfully to reject opinions which they cannot
shake. Nor shall we offer aught too light or low for the
grandeur of the interest which is at stake, nor in this sort
of redargution attempt to make converts to our creed,
hoping only meantime to conciliate patience and candour,
and that only in minds of a more commanding and de-
cisive order. For no one can betake himself to us, fresh
from the habitual and unceasing companionship of such
errors, with such openness and greatness of mind, as not
to retain some bias to his impressions and opinions in favour
of inveterate and established systems. You cannot in-
scribe fresh characters on the writing-tablet without ex-
punging the former ones; but, in the mind, you will
scarcely obliterate the first drawn characters, save by in-
scribing others.

This bias, as we think, ought to be counteracted, and
these our statements have this scope, (we speak it without
reserve), to lead men willing, not’ to drag them reluctant.
All forcing, (as we from the first professed), we would
banish: and as Borgia jestingly noted of the invasion of
Italy by Charles the Eighth, that the French had come
with chalk in their hands to mark the public-houses, not
arms to force their way through the land; so we too anti-
cipate a like pacific tone and result of our discoveries,
namely, that they shall segregate minds of large capacity
from the crowd, and into these shall make their way,
rather than be obnoxious to men of opposite opinions.

But in this part of our subject, in which we now treat of
the redargution of the vulgar philosophies, our task hath
been happily lightened by a timely and extraordinary cir-
cumstance. For while meditating these points, there came
to me a certain friend, then returning from France, of whom,
after due courtesy done, I inquired much, as he (in the
wont of intimate friends) of me, in regard of our various
affairs. “ But how do you employ,” said he at length,
“those intervals which are unoccupied with public busi-
ness, or at least wherein its bustle abates.” “ A question
in good time,” I answered ; “lest you should suppose I do
nothing at all in such hours, I must tell you, I now medi-
tate a renovation of philosophy, which shall embrace no-

te *
120 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE,

thm» airy or abstract, and which shall advance the interests
of mankind.” ‘A noble undertaking, doubtless,” said
_ he; “but whom have you for associates in this work ?”
“‘ None at all,” was my reply; “ I have not even a person
with whom I can converse without reserve on such subjects,
none at least in whose converse I can explain myself, and
whet my purpose.” “A hard fate,” he said, “ yet know,”
_ he immediately added, “ that others have also at heart such
subjects.” Whereupon I exclaimed with joy, “ Precious
raindrop of hope, that hast at last sprinkled my thirsty
spirit, and recalled me to life. Why | met not long ago a
certain evil-eyed old fortune-telling woman, who muttering
I know not what, prophesied that my offspring should die
in the desert.” Would you,” said he, “that I mention
a circumstance relating to such matters, which I met with
myself in France.” “ Most willingly,” I replied, “and shall
be grateful besides.”

He then related that he had, while at Paris, been invited
and introduced by a friend of his to an assembly of per-
sonages, “ such,” said he, “as you too would have loved
to see. No occurrence of my life was ever more delightful
than that introduction. There were about fifty present,
none young, but all mature of years, and of whom each in
his aspect wore a stamp of dignity and of honour.” He
related, that among them he recognized men who had held
offices of state, others senators of the realm, divers eminent
ecclesiastics, and some generally of all the notable classes
of the body politic. And when he entered at first, he found
them occupied with easy converse one with another, yet
they were ranged on seats placed with some formality of
order, and sate as if expecting some one’s coming.

Not long after there came to them a personage of an
aspect, as he thought, mild and exceedingly placid, yet the
comportment of his features was as of one that pitied men.
And, when they all stood up to receive him, he looked around,
and said with a smile; “I could never have conceived,
now that I recognize your features, one after another, that
the idle hour of all of you should have fallen upon the same
nook of time, and I cannot enough admire how it hath so
occurred.” Whereupon one of the assembly made answer,
that it was he himself that had occasioned that leisure,
seeing that what they expected to reap from him, they
regarded as preferable to all business. “I perceive,” he an-
swered, “ that the whole waste of the time here consumed, in
which cach of you, if apart, might have benefited many, is

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. ip

to be charged to my account. If this be so, I must see, in
good sooth, that I detain you not over long.” With these
words he sate down, not on an elevated seat or academic
chair, but on a level with the rest, and discoursed to the
assembly, somewhat to the following effect. For my in-
formant said, that he tried as he might to catch up the ad-
dress, but while going over his remembrances of it with the
friend who had introduced him, they seemed far short of
what had then been spoken. He then produced a specimen
of the speech which he had taken down, and which he had
then about him.

“« My sons, ye are doubtless but men and mortal, yet
will ye not so much repine at the terms of your being, if ye
sufficiently remember your nature. God the creator of the
world and of you, has endowed you with souls to contain
that world, and yet remain unfilled and unsatisfied. Where-
fore he has claimed your faith for himself, but the world
he hath submitted to your sense; and hath decreed that
the oracles of both should not be clear, but ambiguous, so
as profitably to exercise you, and to balance the excellency
of the things discovered. Now as regards truths divine
my hope of you is good: but as concerns things human I
am in fear for you, lest you be involved in a train of endless
errors. For I consider, that you are intimately persuaded
of one thing, namely, that you now enjoy a flourishin
and auspicious state of science. I on the other hand ad-
monish you, not to regard the copiousness or utility of the
knowledge you possess, as if you had been exalted to some
pinnacle of superiority, or had satisfied your aspirations,
or completed your labours. Revolve the matter thus:

“ If you take to task the whole of that huge congeries of
writings wherewith the sciences are so puffed out and over-
grown, and mark them with a strict and sifting scrutiny,
you shall every where note infinite repetitions of the same
thing, diversified in words, arrangement, examples, and
illustrations, yet in the sum and weight and real effect of
things all anticipated, and manifestly only repetitions, so as
there is at once poverty and parade, arrogance and miser-
able jejuneness. Andif I may be allowed a colloquial ease
and pleasantry on this subject, this learning of yours very
much resembles the well known supper of the host of
Chalcis, who being asked whence he had such store of
different hunter’s fare: answered that all his dishes were
of the flesh of a tame boar. For you will not deny that
the whole of that seeming copiousness is nothing but frag-

ibe & INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

ments of the philosophy of the Greeks, and that not reared,
to continue the metaphor, in the woods and wilds of nature,
but styed up in the schools and scholastic cells like the
domesticated animal. For if you give up the Greeks, and
a few Greeks too, what (I pray you) have the Romans or
Arabs, which doth not emanate from, and fall back into,
the systems of Aristotle, Plato, Hippocrates, Galen, Euclid,
and Ptolemy? Thus you see your entire hopes and fortunes
wrapt up in the weak brains and limited souls of about
half a dozen mortals. Yet it was not for this that God
implanted in you reasonable souls, that you should obse-
quiously give up to human beings that part of you which
he vindicates for himself,—implicit faith due only to the
things of God. Nor hath he allotted to you the firm
and vivid informations of the senses, to contemplate the
works of a few men, but his own works, his heaven and
earth, celebrating the while his glory in your hearts, and
while you lift up a hymn to your Great Author, admitting,
if you will, these mortals, (and wherefore should you refuse),
to a place beside you in the worshipping cea aE

~

THE PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE;
OR,

NATURAL HISTORY

FOR THE BASIS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.

PREFACE.

Upon my taking into consideration the errors that prevail
with respect to the true grounds of forming theories and
conducting experiments, I felt it my duty myself to remedy
these evils, to the best of my ability. There cannot indeed
be any thing more meritorious than to lead men to throw
off the masks of authorities and their blind admiration of
experiments, and to enter into a nearer communion with
things themselves and a thorough investigation of them.

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 128

For so our knowledge of them will be at once deep and
secure, and will be moreover at hand, and the sources of
utility will be multiplied. But the first principles of this
design must be derived from the knowledge of nature. For
all the philosophy of the Greeks, with all their different
sects, and, indeed, whatever other philosophy may be men-
tioned, appears to have been built upon too narrow a basis
and on an insuflicient acquaintance with nature. For
taking up some few things from experience and from tra-
dition, and that sometimes without accurate examination,
they placed the rest in meditation and in the exercise of
their ingenuity; relying too much upon dialectics: but the
chymists and the whole class of mechanics and empirics,
if they conducted their observations and philosophy with
more boldness, being accustomed to an accurate nicety in
some things, bend all others by the most singular methods
to them; and give out opinions the most monstrous and
unnatural. For the one class, out of many things take but
little, the other out of but little take much into the body of
their philosophy; and to speak the truth, the method of
either class is unsound, and will not hold. “But the know-
ledge of nature which has been hitherto collected, however
copious it may at first sight appear, is really meagre and
unprofitable. Neither is it of that kind for which we are
inquiring. Nor is it yet cleared of fable and absurdity,
but runs out into antiquity and philology, and relations
of things unconnected with it, neglecting and rejecting
what is solid, but laboriously curious upon trifles. But the
worst of this kind of copiousness is this, that it embraces
the investigation of natural objects, and yet for the most
part declines the study of things mechanical. And these
are the very things which by far excel the others in the
searching out the secrets of nature, for nature being of |
itself vast and diffuse, dissipates the mind and confounds

it by its variety. But in mechanical operations the judg-
ment is collected and the designs and workings of nature
are discerned, and not the effects only. And besides, all
the subtlety of mechanics stops short of the object which
we seek. For the person thus employed being intent upon
his work and object, neither raises his mind nor stretches
forth his hand to other things, and which perchance avail
more to the investigation of nature. There is need, there-
fore, of greater care and choice kinds of examination and
even of expense, and moreover of the greatest patience.
For this hath rendered every thing in the department of
experiment useless, that men have from the beginning

124 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

sought out experiments for the sake of gain and not of
knowledge, and have been intent upon bringing out
something magnificent, not upon revealing the oracles of
nature, which is the work of works, and comprehends all
power initself. And this evil hath been occasioned by the
fastidious curiosity of men, in generally turning their at-
tention to the secrets and rarities of nature, and in expending
all their research upon these, passing over experiments
and ordinary observations with contempt. And they seem
to have been determined to this choice either from the
pursuit of applause, or from having fallen into this error,
that the office of philosophy is as much to trace the cause
of ordinary occurrences and the remoter causes of those
causes, as it is to harmonize extraordinary with ordinary
events. But the cause of this universal complaint respect-
ing natural history is chiefly this, that men have not merely
erred in their mode of proceeding but in their design. For
that natural history which now exists seems to have been
composed either on account of the profitableness of experi-
ments or the pleasure of details, and to have been made for
its own sake, and not to serve as the elements and as it
were to be the nurse of philosophy and the sciences. It is
therefore my design, as far as lies in my power, to supply
this deficiency. For I have long since made up my opinion
as to the province of abstract philosophies: it is my in-
tention also to adhere to the methods of true and good
induction, in which are contained all things ; and, as it were,
by the help of instruments or by a clue to a labyrinth, to
assist as much as possible the power of the human under-
standing, of itself inadequate and very unequal to the
attainment of the sciences. And I am at the same time
aware that if I would include in that restoration of the
sciences, which I have in contemplation, any greater scope,
I might indeed reap the greater honour.

But since it has pleased God to give me a mind that can
learn to yield to circumstances, and out of a sense of real
desert and confidence of success to reject with readiness
what is only plausible, I have taken upon myself that part
of the work which would probably have been passed over
by others altogether, or would not have been treated in
accordance with my design. And there are two admonitions
which I would give on this head, as at other times, so
especially now, in proceeding to this very thing: first, that
we should dismiss that notion, which though so thoroughly
false and destructive, easily takes possession of the mind,
that the investigation of particular objects is an infinite

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 125

and endless task: when the truth rather is, that there is
no bound to mere opinions and disputes, but that those
fantasies are condemned to perpetual error and endless
uncertainty: but that those particular objects and the
informations of sense (taking out individuals and degrees
of things, which suftices for the investigation of truth)
certainly admit of comprehension, and that neither too
wide and extensive, nor too difficult and adventurous. And
secondly, that men frequently bear the object in mind, and
that when they fall upon the consideration of very many
of the most ordinary, small, and apparently trivial and even
low subjects, and which, as Aristotle says, seem to require
a previous apology, they will not think that I am trifling,
or taking down the dignity of the human mind. For these
things are not sought out or described for their own sakes,
but no other way is open to the human understanding, nor
any other method left of pursuing this work ; since we are
attempting an object of unrivalled importance and most
worthy of the human mind, to kindle in this our age through
means offered and applied by the Deity himself, the pure
light of nature, the name indeed the boast of men, the
thing itself entirely unknown. Nor do I dissemble my
opinion that that preposterous subtlety of arguments and
imaginations in the time of which the subtlety and truth
of the first information or true induction was either passed
over or ill set on foot, can never effect a restoration though
all the genius of past ages should unite in the design; but
that nature like fortune has her hair only upon her fore-
head. It remains, therefore, that the work be entirely
recommenced, and that with greater helps, and laying
aside the heats of opinion, an entrance be opened into the
kingdom of philosophy and of the sciences (in which all
the wealth of man is stored, for nature is overcome only
by yielding) in the same manner as into the kingdom of
heaven, into which we cannot enter but as little children.
But the profit of this work, that plebeian and promiscuous
advantage derived from experiments themselves, we do not
altogether condemn, since it can doubtless marry desirable
suggestions to the observation and invention of men accord-
ing to their various arts and talents. But we deem it
extremely small in comparison of that entrance into human
knowledge and power, which through the divine mercy, we
look for. And of that mercy we again desire, that it may
- 4 to enrich anew the human family through our
ands.

The nature of things is either free as in species, or con-

126 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

fused as in monsters, or straightened as in the experiments
of the arts; but it acts in whatever class are worthy of
commemoration. But the history of species which at pre-
sent exists, as of animals, metals, and fossils, is tumid and
impertinent; the history of prodigies vain and grounded
upon slight reports; the history of experiments imperfect,
tried by parts, treated negligently, and made entirely with
a view to action and not philosophy. It is, therefore, my
design to contract the history of species, to examine and
revise the history of prodigies, and to put forth my prin-
cipal labours upon experiments mechanical and artificial,
and upon the subjection of nature to the hand of man.
For what are the sports and wantonings, as it were, of na-
ture to us? that is those trifling differences of species
according to their forms, which are of no service to our
pursuits, and with which natural history nevertheless teems.
The knowledge of things wonderful is indeed pleasant to
us, if freed from the fabulous, but on what accaunt does it
afford us pleasure? not from any delight that is in admira-
tion itself, but because it frequently intimates to art its
office, that from the knowledge of nature it may lead it
whither it sometimes preceded it by its own unassisted
power. To artificial experiments we entirely attribute the
first place in kindling the light of nature, not so much be-
cause they are highly useful of themselves, but because
they are the most faithful interpreters of natural occur-
rences. Would any one, for instance, have so clearly ex-
plained the nature of lightning or of the rainbow, before the
reason of both was demonstrated, of the one through the
instruments of war, of the other through the artificial re-
semblances of the rainbow on the wall. But if they are
faithful interpreters of causes, they will also be certain and
successful signs of their effects and operations. And IJ shall
not depart from this threefold division of my history to
treat each subject separately, but shall mix the kinds them-
selves natural with artificial, ordinary with extraordinary,
and keeping close to every subject in proportion to its
utility.

It is usual to begin with the phenomena of the air.
But in strict adherence to my object, | should prefer those
phenomena which constitute and produce a more common
nature of which both globes partake. We will begin,
therefore, with the history of bodies according to that dis-
tinction which appears the simplest, that is, the quantity
or paucity of matter contained and extended within the
same space or the same boundaries. For as no axiom in

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 127

nature is more certain than that twofold one, that out of
nothing nothing comes, and that there is not anything which
can be reduced to nothing, but that the quantum itself of
nature, or the universal sum of matter, is ever the same,
admitting neither of increase nor of diminution ; so it is not
less certain, although it has not been so clearly remarked or
asserted (whatever men may pretend respecting the power
of matter being equally proportioned to its forms), that out —
of that quantum of matter more or less is contained under
the same dimensions of space, according to the difference of
the bodies by which they are occupied, of which some are
very evidently found to be more compact, others more ex-
tended or diffused. For a vessel or a cavity filled with
water and air cannot receive the same portion of matter,
but the one more and the other less. If, therefore, any one
were to assert that from an equal quantity of air an equal
quantity of water could be produced, it would be the same
with asserting that something could be produced out of
nothing. For that must, of course, be supplied out of no-
thing which is supposed to be wanting in matter. Again,
if it were asserted that an equal quantity of water could be
turned into the same quantity of air, it would be the same
with asserting that something could be reduced to nothing.
For the superfluous matter must, of course, have vanished
into nothing. And I do not doubt that this will admit of
calculation imperceptible in some respects, but definite and
certain, and known to nature. As, if one were to say, that
a body of gold compared with a body of spirit of wine were
a collection of matter exceeding in a ratio of twenty to one,
or thereabout, he would speak the truth. In setting forth,
therefore, that history which I have spoken of, respecting
the quantity and paucity of matter, and the union and ex-
pansion of matter, from which those notions of density
and rarity (if rightly considered) have their rise, I shall
preserve this order; in the first place, to give an account of
the relative proportions of different bodies (as of gold,
water, oil, fire), and having examined the ratios of different
bodies, I will afterwards treat of the retirings and excursions
of the same body, with calculations or proportions. For
the same body, without accession or subtraction, or with
the smallest possible degree of either, from various impulses
both external and internal is able to gather itself into a
greater and lesser sphere. For sometimes the body endea-
vours to return to its former sphere, and sometimes evidently
exceeds it. In the first place then, I will enumerate the
courses, differences, and proportions of any natural body

128 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

(in relation to its extent), comparing them with its inter-
stices or pores, that is, its pulverizations, calcinations, vitri-
fications, dissolutions, distillations, vapours, exhalations,
and inflammations. In the next place, I shall lay down
the actions and motions themselvesythe extent and bounds
of the contraction and dilatation, and when the bodies
return to themselves, and when they exceed according to
the measure of their extent; but I shall note particularly
the efficients and means through which this kind of con-
tractions and dilatations of bodies follow, and, in the
meantime, shall subjoin by the way, the powers and ac-
tions which accrue to bodies from such compressions and
dilatations.

And as I well know how difficult it is in the present
state of the mind to acquire a familiarity with nature now
from the very elements, I shall add my own observations,
in order to excite the attention and raise the thoughts of
others. But with respect to demonstration, whether as to
the discovery of the density and rarity of bodies, I have no
doubt that, with respect to thick and palpable bodies, the
motion of gravity, as it is called, can be assumed as the
best as well as readiest proof; for the gravity of a body
will be in proportion to its compactness. But after we
have come to the class of ethereal and spiritual substances,
then indeed we have no measure or rule whereby to go, and
shall need another method of investigation. bee we will
begin with gold, the heaviest of all bodies within our know-
ledge (for philosophy is not yet so matured as that we
ought to venture an opinion respecting the bowels of the
earth), and embraces the greatest quantity of matter in the
smallest space; and we shall apply the ratios of other
bodies to the sphere of this; intimating, however, that here
we scarcely touch upon the history of weights, except as
far as it may throw light upon the demonstrating of the
dimensions of bodies. But as our design is not to publish
conjectures, but to discover and gain knowledge, and this
appears to lie in the examination and proof of the first ex-
periments, I have determined in every very subtle experi-
ment to subjoin the mode of experiment I have made use
of, that after it is clearly ascertained how each thing by
itself appears to me, men may see how far they may rest
satisfied, and what further remains to be done, whether in the
correction of errors which may still cleave to the work, or in
the calling forth and employing of more accurate modes of
proof. And I will for my own part diligently and sincerely
intimate those subjects which appear to me to be less satis-

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 129

factorily explored, and to lie as it were nearer and more
open to error. Lastly, I will add my own observations, as
I before said, so that whilst every part of philosophy is pre-
served entire, I may yet even by the way turn the face itself
of natural history toward philosophy. It will be my care
also to remark whatever those things are, whether experi-
ments or observations which occur and intervene beside the
scope of our inquiry, and pertain to other denominations,
that the investigation may be kept distinct.

A TABLE OF THE CONJUNCTION AND EXPANSION OF MATTER THROUGH
SPACE IN TANGIBLE BODIES, WITH A CALCULATION OF THEIR
RATIOS IN DIFFERENT BODIES.

That occupy the same space, or are equally extended,

An oz, or dwt. gr. An oz, or dwt. gr.

Of pure gold 20 1 | Of agate . 20 41
quicksilver 19 9 2 | new onion in the
lead 12 13 3} lump, or fresh 1 5 42
silver 10 21 4 | camphire AeA 43
tin-glass 10 13 5 | fresh dry fig-root 1 4 44
copper 9: 8 6 | ebony 1 3 45
chalciform gold 9 5 7 | seeds of sweet fen-
steel 8 10 8] nel 1 34 46
brass Suc9 9 | clear amber eS 47
iron 8 6 10 | vinegar 1 31 48
tin 7 22 11 | verjuice of sour
the loadstone 5 12 12] apples 12 49
the touchstone 3 1 13 | of water 1 3 alittle under. 50
marble 2 223 14 | urine ro 51
flint 2 223 15 | oilofdate-leaves 1 3 alittle under. 52
glass 2 203 16 | claret 1 2% 53
chrystal 2 18 17 | white sugar 1 2 54
alabaster 212 18 | red wax 4°42 55
rock-salt 2 10 19 | china-root k 2 56
commonloam 2 8% 20 | substance of raw
white loam 2 53 21] winter pear 1 2 ‘57
nitre 2 5 22} distilled vinegar 1 1 58
ox bones 2 5 28 | distilled rosewater 1 1 59
powdered marga- ashes 01 60

rites 2-2 24 | benjamin 1 0 61
sulphur 2 2 25 | myrrh 16 62
ecommonearth 2 13 26 | butter 1 Quis 63
white vitriol 1 22 27 | fat 1 0 64
ivory 1 213 28] oil of sweet al-
alum 1 21 29] monds 0 233
oil of vitriol 1 21 30 | oil extracted from
white sand 1 20 31] green mace 0 23:
chalk 1 183 32 | herb sweet mar-
oil of sulphur 1 18 33] joram 0 22
common salt 110 34 | petroleum 0 23
lignum vite 1 10 35 | flower of rose 0 22
sheep’s flesh 110 36 | spirit of wine 0 22
aqua fortis Sey | 37 | oak 0 193
ox’s horn 156 38 | soot 017
Indian balsam 1 6 39 | fir 0 15
red sandal wood 1 5 40

WO aay. K

130 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

THE MODE OF EXPERIMENT UPON THE ABOVE TABLE.

Let the weights which I have used be understood to be of
the same kind and computation with those of goldsmiths,
a pound being twelve ounces, and an ounce twenty penny-
weights, a pennyweight twenty-four grains. I have chosen
gold as a standard of the ratios of other bodies, according to
the measure of its extension, not so much because it is the
heaviest of bodies, as because it is the most unique. For
other bodies which, in some degree, partake of inconstancy,
even after they have been tried by fire, retain a diversity of
weight and dimension; but pure gold appears to be en-
tirely free from this property, and to be the same in all cir-
cumstances. The experiment adopted in this case was
this: I made an ounce of pure gold into the form of a
cube; I then prepared a small square vessel to receive that
body of gold, and to agree with it exactly, except that it
was a little too high; yet so as that there might be marked,
by a distinct line, a space within the vessel in which the
gold cube might ascend. I did that for the sake of fluids,
that, when any fluid was to be put into the same vessel, it
might not flow over, but, by this method, be more conve-
niently preserved in an accurate measure. I had, at the
same time, another vessel made in size and weight equal
with the former, that in a like vessel the ratio of the con-
tents of the body might appear by itself. Then I had
made cubes of the same magnitude or dimensions in all
those materials specified in the table, which were capable
of division. But the fluids I made use of at the time, by
filling the vessel until the fluid ascended to the place that
was marked; and the powders in the same manner; but
those as closely pressed as possible ; but this with an espe-
cial view to their lying even and not suffering injury. The
proof, therefore, was no other than that one of the vessels
being empty, should be put: with an ounce in one scale,
another of the vessels in another, with a body in the lump,
and the ratio of the weight be taken; so that in the pro-
portion of its diminution would the dimensions of the same
body be increased. For example, when a cube of gold
gives one ounce, but one of fat a pennyweight, it is clear
that the extension of the body of gold, compared with the
extension of the body of fat, has a twentieth ratio. It was
desirable also, that the mode should be noted down of the
measure which comprehended an ounce of gold ; it was
that of a pint of wine, according to English measure, a
fraction a little less than two hundred and sixty-nine. The

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 131

proof was this, I marked the weight of the water which was
in the vessel, under the line aforesaid, and then the weight
of water contained in a pint, and collected the ratios of the
measures from those of the weights.

CAUTIONS.

Observe whether, perchance, a closer contraction of the
body from the united force produce a greater ratio of weight
than is in proportion to the matter, whether or not this be
the case, will appear from the peculiar history of the weight.
If it should be so, the calculation is certainly erroneous,
and the more bodies are extended so much the move of
matter they possess, than is in proportion to the calculation
of weight and measure which depends upon it.

The smallness of the vessel which I made use of, and the
form of it, although very convenient for the receiving of the
beforementioned cubes, was not equally suitable for the
taking of the ratios with the strictest accuracy. For it
could not well receive particles beneath a half or a quarter
of a grain, and that square surface, in a small and imper-
ceptible ascent or altitude, was capable of attracting a
remarkable difference in the weight contrary to what it is
in vessels rising to a point.

3. There is no doubt, that very many bodies noted in the
table receive more or less within their species, according to
weight and dimension. For waters, wines, and the lke,
differ from one another in gravity. Therefore, as it respects
the minutest calculation, the thing itself receives some mo-
dification; neither can the individuals, upon which our
experiment falls, decide with exactness the nature of the
species, nor perhaps agree minutely with experiments made
on others.

4, I have set down in the above table those bodies which
could conveniently fill the space or measure, each with its
body in the lump, and could, as it were, be assimilated, and
from the ratios of the weight, of which.a judgment might
be formed respecting the collection of matter. Three kinds
of bodies, therefore, could not be brought into our compu-
tation ; first, those which would not satisfy cubical dimen-
sion, such as leaves, flowers, fibres, membranes; 2dly, bo-
dies with unequal pores and cavities, as sponges, fleeces,
and cork; 3dly, pneumatic bodies are without weight.

OBSERVATIONS.

The collection of matter in those tangible bodies, which
have come under my observation, is within the ratios of

132 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

twenty-one parts or thereabout. The collection of matter
is found most compact in gold, and most expanded in spirits
of wine (we speak of bodies which are whole, and not
porous). For spirit of wine occupies a space twenty
times, and that repeated, of the space which gold does, ac-
cording to the ratios of one ounce to twenty-two grains.
For of those twenty-one parts, of which some are more
compact than others ; metals occupy thirteen parts, for tin,
the lightest of metals, is almost eight pennyweights, thir-
teen, that is to say, below that of gold. For all this kind
of variety, leaving metals, is confined within those eight
remaining parts, and again, that remarkable variety which,
by beginning inclusively from stones, is extended to those
other subjects, is confined within three parts only, or but
little more. For the touchstone, the heaviest of stones
(excepting the loadstone), preponderates by little more than
three pennyweights. But spirit of wine, the limit of levity
in compact bodies, is lighter by little less than one penny-
weight. A great gap presents itself from gold and quick-
silver to lead, namely, from twenty pennyweights and a
little under, to less than twelve. And although great me-
tallic bodies abound in variety, I am not inclined to suppose
that there are any intermediate bodies, excepting, perhaps,
the elements of quicksilver. From lead there is a gradual
ascent to iron and tin. Again, there appears a great hiatus
between metals and stones, namely, from eight to three
pennyweights: for such, or about such, is the distance from
tin to the touchstone. Only between these comes the
loadstone, and almost on a par, and this is a metallic stone;
and probably other fossils may be found of imperfect mix-
ture, and of a nature compounded between stone and metal.
From stones, indeed, to the other bodies there is a gradual
variation.

But we little doubt that, as to vegetables and also in the
parts of animals, they show themselves more than other
bodies, although of sufficiently equal texture, which surpass
spirit of wine in lightness. For even the wood of the oak,
which is firm and solid, is lighter than spirit of wine, and
the wood of the fir much more. And very many flowers
and leaves, and membranes and fibres, as the skins of ser-
pents, the wings of insects, and the like, would doubtless
approach the lesser ratios of weights (if they were capable
of cubic dimension), and much more artificial substances,
as tinder, the leaves of roses after distillation, and the like.

' We generally find as to the parts of animals some bodies
more compact than in plants. For bones and skins are

—

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. | 133

more compact than woods and leaves; for we must correct
that proneness which the human mind entertains toward
conjecturing that bodies are hard and consistent, in pro-
portion to their compactness and solidity, but that fluids
are naturally less contracted. For a collection of matter
is not less in fluids than in solids, but rather more.
Gold, by a certain softness which it possesses, verges to a
fluid state, and, when liquefied, is not extended, but is con-
tained within its former place. And quicksilver flows of
itself, and lead easily flows, iron with difficulty, of which
the one is a very heavy, the other a very light body. But
this is especially to be noted, that metals which are frangi-
ble (fluids to wit), far exceed stones in weight.

It is very remarkable of gold and quicksilver, which are
so much heavier than other metals, that they are found
sometimes in grains and small particles, as if perfect by
nature and commonly pure, which happens to no other
metals, which must unite and be purified by fire, whereas
these two, the conjunction of which is by far the greatest
and the strictest, is natural and without the aid of fire.

In the investigation of the nature of metals and stones,
some inquiry should be made respecting those metals which
are found lower than others and are deeper in the earth, as
to whether there is any certain rule and standing experi-
ment on this head. But here we must take into the con-
sideration the region in which the mines or quarries are
found, whether it be higher ground or whether lower. And
in the same manner as to stones and diamonds that are
chrystals, whether the stony nature penetrate the earth so
deeply as the metallic, or rather attaches only to the sur-
face, which appears the more probable supposition.

Sulphur, commonly deemed the father of metals, though
generally not so by the learned, or sulphur transferred to a
kind of natural and not common sulphur, has a collection
of matter inferior to every kind of metal and even to stones
and the stronger earths, by two pennyweights and two
grains ; and yet (if other circumstances concur) if mixed
up with mercury, on account of the admirable gravity of
this latter, it could give the weights of all metals according
to the ratio of the temperament, except the weight of gold.

_ The efficient of conjunction in bodies is not always con-
sidered in respect to their accumulation. For glass, which
joms by means of a fierce and powerful fire, outweighs
chrystal, which is its original nature, and is extracted with-
out fire or apparent heat; for as to ice being a solid, that is
a popular error, and chrystal itself is much heavier than

134 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

ice, which is plainly kept together by cold, and yet it floats
upon the water.

The mixture of liquors does not depend upon or arise
from the ratios of their weights only, since the spirit of
wine is not mixed with distilled oil of almonds, but (what
would not appear probable) floats upon oil as oil upon
water; and yet (as may be seen from the table) is only
lighter by a grain and a half. But at the same time spirit
of wine is by far more easily mixed with the spirit of water,
though heavier; and as water itself is more easily mixed
with oil of vitriol than with oil of olives; and yet oil of
vitriol is heavier than water by eighteen grains, but oil of
olives lighter by four. But this is not to be received with-
out a particular consideration of the weight in bodies pro-
portioned according to the mixture. For we see that wine
floats upon water, if the agitation is represt or there is a per-
turbation of the descent or first state; as when into a vessel
in which water is contained you pour wine, but with a piece
of bread or cloth intervening, which would break the power
itself of the first condition. And the same takes place in
water poured upon oil of vitriol with this design. And
what is more; although wine be first poured in and after-
ward water (upon the bread or cloth as aforesaid), it finds
its own place, and passes through the wine and settles
itself.

CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF THE CONJUNCTION
AND EXPANSION OF MATTER IN THE SAME BODY.

I deem that our investigation into the ratios of powders
will be attended with greater utility if we compare them
with the bodies themselves, in their complete state, and do
not consider them simply by themselves. For by this
means a judgment may be formed respecting the difference
of the bodies and concerning those connexions and chains
of their perfect nature which are the closest. But in the
ratios of powders, we understand powders as comprest as
possible. For this conduces to their evenness, and does not
suffer accident. Mercury in the lump has in that experi-
mental measure on which the table proceeds, 19 dwt. and
9 gr., but sublimated in powder, 3 dwt. and 22 gr.

Lead in the lump, 12 dwt. 13 gr. but in white lead, in
powder, 4 dwt. 83 gr.

Steel in the lump 8 dwt. 10 gr., but in prepared powder
(such as is used in medicines), 2 dwt. 9 gr.

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 135

Chrystal in the lump, 2 dwt. 18 gr., in powder, 1 dwt.

20 gr.

Red sandal in the lump, 1 dwt. 53 gr., in powder,
163 gr.

The wood of the oak in the lump, 193 gr., in ashes, | dwt.
2 gr.

But that the ratios of powder prest and not prest may be
the better understood, and that according to the difference
of the bodies, I have taken the weight of roses in powder,
since it could not be taken into the table in the lump: that
gave in powder not prest, 7 gr., in powder prest, 22 gr., but
at the same time in the wood of the tried red sandal, red
sandal in powder not prest, 10 gr., prest, 163, so that powder
of rose is much lighter than that of sandal if not prest,
heavier if prest. I have also taken, as a supplement to the
former table, the ratios. of powder in some examples from
flowers, herbs, and seeds (for the dimension of roots could
not be cubic), for an example of the rest in their own
species ; and I find that the powder of rose-flower, as afore-
said, gives 22 er., of sweet marjoram, 23, of sweet fennel,
1 dwt. 33 gr. I have taken also in powders the weight of
other bodies which could not have been taken into the table,
as of whitesand. This gave 1 dwt. 20 gr.; of common salt,
1 dwt. 10 gr.; of sugar, 1 dwt. 23 gr.; of myrrh, 1 dwt.;
of benjamin, 1 dwt. In this same table you may see
that sulphur, in the lump, yields 2 dwt. 2 gr., in chymic
oil, 1 dwt. 18 gr.; but vitriol in the body, 1 dwt. 22 gr., in
oil, 1 dwt. 21 gr.: wine in the body, 1 dwt. 2 gr., and dis-
tilled 22 gr.: vinegar in the body, 1 dwt. 2 gr., distilled,
1 gr. 1 dwt.

CAUTIONS.

When we speak of weight in the body, and in the powder,
we do not understand it of the same individual, but of the
body and powder of the same species contained within the
same tabular measure.

For if the wood of the oak be taken and at the same time ~
the wood in the individual be reduced to ashes; it both
loses a great part of its weight, and the ashes do not by a
considerable proportion fill the measure of the wood.

The method of pulverization has considerable influence
with respect to the opening or expanding the body. For
there is one ratio of powder which is produced by simple
bruising or filing, another of that which is produced by
distillation as of sublimate; another of that which is pro-

136 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

duced by turning it, as it were, into rust by means of aque
fortes, and consumptions; another of that which is pro-
duced through fire, as cinders, calx. When these therefore
are under consideration, they will not admit in any way of
comparison.

It is not my design to dwell longer on each particular
subject than is requisite in order to my present under-
taking; I cannot, however, refrain from intimating by the
way such others as would facilitate it though not absolutely
demanded in this place: especially I would propose that a
table should be made of bodies with their pores, with each
body with its powders, calcinations, vitrifications, dissolu-
tions, and distillations.

We leave to the proper history of weights the history of
the variation of weights in individuals, that is, of the same
body in the lump and in powders, as of water in snow or
ice, and the same dissolved, of an egg raw and prepared
for food, of a fowl alive and dead.

OBSERVATIONS.

In more compact bodies the compactness of the parts is
much closer than to admit of being equalled by any position
or pressure of its powders. _ And in proportion to the gravity
and solidity of bodies is the difference between the whole
bodies and their pores, as the ratio of quicksilver in a state
of nature to quicksilver sublimated in powder is fivefold
or more ; the ratios of steel and lead do not ascend to four-
fold; the ratios of chrystal and sandal do not ascend to
twofold.

In lighter and porous bodies there is perhaps a looser
position of the parts in the bodies in their whole state than
in their compressed powders, as in dry rose-leaves. And
in bodies of this kind there exists a greater difference be-
tween their powders prest and not prest.

The parts of powders can so sustain themselves that
powder not prest will fill a measure thrice that of powder

rest.

Metallic bodies, as sulphur or vitriol, turned into their
oils, retain their weight to a remarkable degree. There is
not, indeed, a great difference between the oils and the
bodies themselves. Doubtless by distillation they are at-
tenuated and lose in weight: but this is the case with wine
in a double degree to what it is with vinegar.

The pore in sublimated powder, as compared with that
in the body in its natural state, is worthy of notice from

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 137

this circumstance, that although so great (for it is as I have
said fivefold), and that not in a transient, as in the vapours
of quicksilver, but in a consistent body, it returns without
difticulty to its former orbit.

CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF THE CONJUNCTION
AND EXPANSION OF MATTER THROUGH SPACE IN THE
SAME BODY.

Animals in swimming depress the water with their hands
or feet; that being depressed, rises above its natural con-
sistency, and bears up the body rising upon it. But skilful
swimmers can so balance themselves upon the water, as to
keep themselves up for a time without moving their arms or
legs; nay, to walk upright and on the water, and perform
other feats of agility.

Waterfowls, indeed, are webfooted, and so can conve-
niently depress the water with the membranes of their feet ;
but can swim better in deep water.

Birds in flying beat and condense the air with their
wings, but the air, (as was said of water) restoring itself
to its own consistency, carries the bird. And birds also
sometimes cut their path with expanded wings but retained
in one position, or now and then striking their wings a
little and then returning to their gliding motion. And
there is an analogy between winged animals, whether
feathered or not. For flies and all creatures of that kind
have their membranes of wings with which they beat the
air. But the weakness of their wings is made up by the
lightness of their bodies. Winged creatures are more easily
borne up aloft, especially those which have broader wings,
as the swallow, though their motion is not so swift. And
all birds which are of considerable magnitude have more
difficulty in the first stage of their flight, in elevating them-
selves from the earth, since the air is of course not so
deep.

CAUTION.

The motion of condensation in water, or air, or the like,
is manifestly through striking or moving upon it. The
parts of air or water, the farther they are from the first
stroke or impulse, the weaker they are struck, and the
slower they give way; but as they are nearer, so much the
more forcibly and quickly; whence it necessarily happens
that the anterior air, which flies with more rapidity, comes
up to the posterior air, which is slower in its course, and so
they come together. But since a greater condensation than

138 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

is natural results from their conjunction, the bodies of water
or air leap back and return, in order to open and loose
themselves.

HISTORY.

The face of water and of every fluid is uneven after
agitation and perturbation, and that by an inequality move-
able and successive, till the water regains its proper con-
sistency and is freed from the pressure: as in the waves of
the sea and of rivers, even after the winds have calmed,
-and in all disturbed water.

The same kind of inequality is evidently in the winds
also, which roll themselves together in the same manner as
the waves: neither do they return to tranquillity imme-
diately on the cessation of the first impetus, except that in
the undulation of the air, the motion of gravity, which in
water is joined with the motion of liberation from pressure,
does not intervene.

A stone thrown sidelong on the water (as boys do in
play) leaps off and repeatedly falls and is struck again by
the water. Swimmers when from an eminence they leap
headlong into the water, guard against dividing it through
the joining of their thighs. Lastly; water struck by the
hand or by the body with power, beats like a ferula or any
rather hard body, and causes pain. And in skiffs and keels
of vessels which are guided by the force of oars, the water
pushed forward and borne down by the oars behind the
rowers forces the skiff forward, and makes it move on its
way, and bound onward as a boat is moved off from the
shore by the waterman’s pole. For the water, gathering itself
behind the stern of the vessel and urging it into a contrary
direction, is not the principal cause of this, which never-
theless arises from the pressure relaxing itself.

Air, in avoiding compression, imitates and puts forth all
the actions of a solid body; as we may see in the winds,
which direct the courses of ships, overthrow houses and
trees, and prostrate them to the ground.

The stroke that is given from a sling, hollow and long,
so as to help the compression of the air, is owing to the
same cause.

Boys in imitation of cannon scoop out the wood of the
alder tree and stop up each end of a squirt with bits of the
root of the fleur de luce, or of paper rolled up, and then
shoot off the little ball by means of a wooden pin, but before
_ that touches it, the further ball is sent off with:an audible
force by the power of the air shut up in the squirt.

Pe ee

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 139

Air forcibly condensed becomes colder and seems to ap-
proach nearer the nature of water, as when we raise the wind
with a fan, we perceive the air with a hurried motion by
pressing forward, beating back again, or as when by draw-
ing our lips together, the breath becomes cold, or as may
be seen in bellows.

And when in the open air, you will find that it is much
cooler when the wind is blowing than when the air is per-
fectly calm.

In the generation of sounds air condensed imitates the
nature of a solid body, for as between two solid bodies
sound is produced by percussion, so a sound is produced
between a solid body and air condensed, and again between
two opposite bodies of condensed air. For with respect to
the chords in musical instruments it is plain that the sound
is not emitted by touch, or by the percussion between the
finger or the bow, but between the chord and the air.

For a chord when it rebounds, and that with celerity
from its being stretched, first condenses the air, and then
strikes it. Instruments also put into sound by the breath,
on account of the very weak motion of the breath compared
with that of a stringed instrument, are of necessity made
hollow to assist the compression of the air, which is also
considered an assistance in stringed instruments.

Water pent up makes a way for itself with a powerful im-
petus, and diffuses itself on all sides, in order to obtain its
natural latitude, as under the arches of bridges. In the same
manner also wind narrowed and condensed bursts forth with
violence. Whirlpools produce whirlpools, for since the
natural relaxation is impeded, each part sustains an equal
pressure.

Water emitted on a sudden with force from a confined
space, reflects the resemblance of a continuous body, as of
a thread or rod, or branch of a tree, and becomes straight,
afterward bends, then divides itself, and disperses itself
into a circle into drops, as in little pipes, or syringes, and
gutters.

There is a kind of pool not uncommon in ponds, espe-
cially after hay has been mown, or rather seen from that
circumstance. The hurricane sometimes raises a quantity
of hay in the air, and carries it along for a time together and
not scattered, until after it has been borne to a considerable
height, the hay disperses itself and forms, as it were, a
canopy.

A wooden platter, empty and turned downwards, and
placed evenly on the surface of the water, and afterward

~

140 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

put under the water, bears with it down to the bottom of
the vessel the air before contained in the platter; but if,
with the like equilibrium, it be again taken out of the
water, you will find the air to have conveyed itself into not
much less space than it before filled. This will appear
from the colouring of the lip of the platter at the place
whither the water had ascended, and from which the air
received itself within.

In a bed-room, if a window be left open when the wind
blows, if there be no other vent, it is not very much felt
(unless it be violent), since it is not received by the body of
wind which had filled the room, and was somewhat con-
densed by the first gentle wind, and afterward does not
admit of condensation; but as soon as a vent is given, it is
then manifestly perceived.

For the more comfortable continuance of workmen under
water, it has been thought that a large hollow vessel might
be constructed of metal, or of some other kind of material,
to be let down to the bottom of the water; that it might be
sustained by a tripod, with the feet affixed to the brim of
the vessel, and the feet to be a little less than the human
stature. The vessel was let down into a great depth, with
all the air it contained, in the same manner as was described
in the case of the platter, and was set upon its feet, and
stood just by the spot where the work was to be carried on.
But the divers, who were the workmen, when they wanted
respiration put their heads into the hollow of the vessel,
and having taken a supply of air, returned to their work.
And I myself ina bath made my servant put his head into
a basin under the water depressed with air, and he so re-
mained for half the quarter of an hour, until he felt that
the air, warmed by his breath, brought on a feeling of suf-
focation.

To try by the bladder whether air readily admits of some
small contraction would be a fallacious experiment. For
when the bladder is filled with wind, the air is condensed
by the wind itself, so that the air within the bladder is more
dense than common air, and therefore a8 be expected to
be less adapted to a new condensation. But in the usual
experiment of the wooden plate forced down beneath the
water, you may see that the water, entering from the ex-
treme part of the vessel, has occupied some space, and that
the air has occasioned a defalcation of the same space.

But in order more clearly to illustrate the proportion, I
placed a small globular, or other solid body, and that would
sink, at the bottom of the vessel, above which the plate

ee

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 141

was to be placed; then I placed above that another plate
metallic and not wooden, that could stand of itself at the
bottom of the vessel. But if that body be small in size,
when it is received into the hollow of the plate, it forces the
air together, and does not expel it; but if of greater magni-
tude than to admit of the easy yielding of the air, the air
impatient of this greater pressure, somewhat lifts up the
plate, and ascends in bubbles.

And I had a hollow leaden globe made, the sides of it
sufficiently firm to bear the force of a mallet or of a press:
and this globe, being struck at either pole with mallets,
approached nearer and nearer to a planisphere. And it
yielded more readily under the first contusions, afterward
less so, according to the measure of the condensation; so
that at the last the mallets were of but little service, and
there was need of pressing, and that with some. violence.
But I enjoined, that, after the pressing, a few days should
be suffered to elapse, but this has no relation to our present
design, but looks another way.

Air, by a powerful exsuction into closed vessels, is ex-
tended or dilated, so that part of the air being removed, the
remainder nevertheless fills the same measure as the whole
had filled ; and yet so as to endeavour, as much as possible,
to restore itself and to get rid of that extension. You may
perceive this in eggs, which contain scented water, and are
broken in play,so that they imbue the air with their scent.
The way to try it is to let all the food that is in the egg be
drained, then let a person confine, by a powerful exsuction,
the air itself which has found its way in, and immediately
on exsuction bore a hole with the finger, place the egg thus
closed under the water, and then take away your finger.
But the air turned aside by this tension, and endeavouring
to recover its place, draws the water, and enters till that
portion of air regains its former consistency.

I have tried the same experiment with a glass (or philoso-
pher’s) ‘egg, and find that the water received is about an
eighth part of the capacity ; so much was the air extended
by exsuction. But this depends upon the greater or less
violence of the exsuction. But toward the end of the exsuc-
tion, it drew with it the brim of the vessel itself. I moreover
made use of a newexperiment, namely, after exsuction to stop
up the hole with wax, and let the egg remain so sealed up for
awhole day. I did this to try whether that day would lessen
the inclination of the air, as is the case in consistent bodies,
in twigs, bars of iron, and the like, the motions of which,
to recover themselves from tension, become feebler through

142 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

delay; but I find that the effect remains in this instance
the same; the egg continues to draw, and with the same
force, the same quantity of water as if it had been forth-
with put in after exsuction: so that when the hole was
opened out of the water, it drew in new air with an audible
sound, but the effect of further delay I did not try.

If bellows are suddenly raised and opened, and no breath-
ing place is given, they break ; for since so great a quantity
of air, as can fill the inside, rising suddenly from a level to
a height cannot be drawn through the narrow strait of the
beak of the bellows, and the air which is already within it
cannot be extended over such a space, the bellows must
break.

HISTORY.

If water be in a just quantity put into a glass, and the
water’s ascent be marked, and a common cinder cleaned
through a sieve be put into the water and settle in it, you
will see the space occupied by the cinder at the bottom
ascend higher by one-fourth than the body of water had
ascended on the surface from the place before marked ; and
hence it is plain, that the water mixed with the cinder either
changes its orbit and contracts itself, or that it receives the
cinder within the hollow part of the water, since it by no
means expands itself in proportion to the cinder received.
But if you try this in the very lightest and thinnest sand
(but not calcined or reduced by fire), you will find that the
water rises at the surface according as the sand does at the
bottom. I think also that many infusions load the water,
and that it cannot extend according to the bulk of the
body received ; but I pass by the experiment on this subject.

CAUTION.

I do not confound the motion of succession, which is
called motion, to avoid the supposition of a vacuum, with
the motion of reception from extension. For these two
motions are in time and effect conjoined, but differ in their
proportion to each other, as will appear in the proper his-
tory of the motion of succession.

Air received through breathing becomes in a little while
vapour, so as to cover a lookingglass with a kind of steam,
or in winter time so as to be congealed about the beard.
But that dew, as it were, upon the bright blade of a sword,
or on a diamond, vanishes like a little cloud, so that the
polished body seems to purify itself.

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 143

The mode of the process of water in the expansion and
contraction which take place in the body of it through the
medium of fire is thus. Water acted upon by moderate
heat emitsa little and clear vapour, before any other change
is seen within the body of it; the heat then continuing and
increasing, the body yet remaining whole, it does not rise
nor foam, as it were, in small bubbles, but ascending through
greater ones, dissolves itself into copious vapour, but the
water soon flies off, and is consumed. And that vapour, if
it is not impeded, mingles with the air, being at first visi-
ble, and even after it has vanished from sight, perceptible,
either by sending forth a scent, or by moistening and
softening the air at the touch or at breathing. And at
length it hides itself, and is lost in that sea of air. But if
first a solid body meet it (and so much the more if it be
equal to it and polished), the vapour gently enters into it-
self, and is returned into the water either by the exclusion
or ejection of the air, which was before mixed with the va-
pour. And that whole process is manifest, as well in the
decoction of water as in distillation. But we moreover see
vapours which are emitted from the earth, if they have not
been thoroughly subdued and scattered by the heat of the
sun, nor from thecoldness of the air equally commingled with
that body of air, although they do not meet a solid body, yet
returned into water from the very cold and destitution of
heat, so that in evening dew it takes place earlier, in showers
later. I have, therefore, upon patient and diligent inquiry
set down that the expansion of air, if it be compared with
water, amounts to a ratio of one hundred and twenty fold
or thereabout.

HISTORY OF THE EXTENSION OF MATTER IN
PNEUMATICS.

I have taken a glass phial which could perhaps hold one
ounce; I made choice of so small a vessel as for two reasons
particularly suited to the experiment, first, that it might
sooner bring on the boiling with less heat, lest the bladder,
which was to be put above the phial, should be burnt and
dried up by an intenser heat: secondly, that it might
receive a less portion of air in that part which was not to
be filled with water: since I was aware that the air itself
received extension through fire. I determined, therefore,
of making use of but a little air, that that extension might
not disturb the ratios of the water. The phial was not

144 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

straight necked without any lip, (for then the vapour of
the water would distil more rapidly, and the dew would
glide down that part of the bladder which was joined to
the neck of the phial) but with the neck at first straightened
a little, and then returned as it were with the lip. This
vessel I half filled with water, (supposing that this would
hasten the boiling) and took the weight of the water with
the phial itself by sand put in the scale of a balance. Then
I took the bladder which might contain about half a pint,
taking care that it should be neither old nor dry and given
to resist more from dryness, but new and rather soft. I then
tried the soundness of the bladder by blowing, to be certain
that there were no holes in it, and then emptied all the air
out of it as much as possible. I also first of all applied oil
to the outside of the bladder, and made it take the oil by
rubbing itin. This I did to make the bladder closer and to
stop up the pores (if there might chance to be any) with
the oil. I fastened the bladder securely about the mouth
of the phial, the mouth of the phial being received into the
mouth of the bladder; this was done with a string waxed
a little that it might adhere better and tie more closely.
But this is made better by clay made out of meal and the
white ofan egg, and bound with black paper and well dried,
as I myself have found. At last I placed the phial over
burning coals on a little hearth. The water soon after
began to boil, and by degress to inflate every part of the
bladder, till it seemed as though it would break. I imme-
diately removed the glass from the fire and placed it upon
the carpet, lest the glass should be broken by the cold, and
instantly I made a little hole at the top of the bladder with
a needle, lest on the vapour being restored to water at the
ceasing of the heat, should fall back and confound the
ratios. But afterward I took away the bladder itself with the
string, and cleared it from the clay, if any had been used,
and then weighed the remaining water with the phials
again. And I found that about the weight of two penny-
weights had been consumed. And I saw that whatever of
the body had filled the bladder when it was full of wind,
was chile and produced from that which had been lost from
the water. The matter, therefore, when it was contracted
in the body of the water, filled as much space as two penny-
weights of the body of water filled: but the same matter
expanded in a body of vapour filled half a pint. I there-
fore set down the ratios according to the dimension ex-
pressed in the table: a vapour of water can bear a ratio of

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 145

eighty fold to a body of water. The bladder filled with
wind in the manner I have mentioned, if no breathing place
be given, but it be removed whole from the fire, imme-
diately decreases from the inflation and subsides and is
contracted. The vapour whilst the bladder swells, being
emitted from the hole, had another kind of vapour distinct
from the common one of water more thin, clear, and up-
right, and not so soon mingling itself with the air.

CAUTIONS.

We must not suppose that if there were a greater con-
sumption of water, a greater bladder could be filled in
proportion. I tried this and found that it would not
answer, but the inflation that follows upon it does not take
place gradually but altogether. This I attribute partly to
the inflaming of the bladder which was made harder and
would not yield so easily, and was perhaps more porous (but
this might be corrected by a moist heat as by the balneum
Maria); but still more to this, that the vapour being in-
creased through the constant succession, inclines to recover
itself and condenses itself. The vapour, therefore, which
is received into the bladder is not to be compared to those
which are received into stoves, because these latter mutually
following and urging each other, thicken, but those expand
themselves at will from the soft and yielding nature of the
bladder, especially at the beginning (as I said), before the
copiousness of the vapour brings on its recovery.

The expansion of the vapour of water is not to be judged
entirely from the appearance of the vapour which flies off into
the air; for that vapour being immediately mixed with the air
borrows by far the greatest dimension of its mixed body from
the air, and does not remain inits own size. And so it isam-
plified to the bulk of the air into which it is received, as a little
red wine or any other coloured fluid which imparts a colour
to a great quantity of water. The exact ratios in so minute
a case cannot be obtained without laborious and unprofit-
able research, and are very slightly connected with our
present design. It is enough that from this experiment it
is plain that the ratio of vapour to water is not twofold,
nor tenfold, nor fortyfold, nor again a thousandfold, two
hundredfold, &c. For the limits, not degrees of natures,
are the subjects of our investigation. If, therefore, any
one, by any accident or slight variation in the mode of his
experiment, whether from the shape of the glass he makes

use of, or the hardness or softness of the bladder, or the
VOL. XV. L

146 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

degree of heat does not fall upon the ratio of eightyfold,
the consequence is immaterial. For I suppose that there
are none so ignorant as to imagine that pneumatic and
volatile vapours, which fly off from heavy bodies, lie hid in
the pores of the same bodies, and are not of the same matter
with the ponderous body, but are separated from the pon-
derous part when the water is, as it were, entirely consumed,
and evaporates into nothing. A live coal, if placed in
the scale of a balance and left till it becomes a cinder, will
be found to be much lighter. Metals themselves are
changed in a wonderful degree in weight by the evola-
tions of their smoke. The same matter, therefore, is tan-
gible and has weight, and is yet pneumatic, and can be
divested of weight.

HISTORY.

The mode of the process of oil is this. If oil be poured
into a common glass phial and placed upon the fire, it will
boil much more slowly, and will require a greater heat than
water. And at first some drops and small grains appear
scattered through the body of the oil, ascending with a
creaking sound: the bubbles in the mean time do not play
on the surface, as is the case with water, nor does the body
rise whole, and in general no steam flies off, but a little
afterward the whole body is inflated and dilated in a
remarkable proportion, as if rising in a twofold degree.
Then, indeed, a very copious and dense steam arises: if a
fire be applied to the steam, even a good way above the
mouth of the phial, the steam forthwith produces a flame,
and descends immediately to the mouth of the phial, and
there fixes itself and continues burning. But if the oil is
heated to a greater degree, the steam burning to the last,
out of the phial, without any flame or ignited body being
applied, completely inflames itself, and takes the expansion
of the flame.

CAUTION.

See that the mouth of the phial is rather narrow, that the
phial may confine the fumes, lest by their largely and im-
mediately mixing with the air, they lose their inflammable
nature.

HISTORY.

The method of process of spirit of wine is this: it is ex-
cited by much less heat, and brings itself to expand sooner
and more than water. It boils up with great bubbles without
froth, and even with the raising of its whole body, but the

ee

Je eel

PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE. 147

vapour, whilst it is collected, will on the application of fire
produce fire, at a good distance from the mouth of the glass,
not so bright (but at least as compact) as oil, but thin and
scant of a blue colour and almost transparent. But being
inflamed it is borne to the mouth of the glass, where is a
supply of more copious fuel, as it is also with oil, But if
the vapour is inflamed in the part verging a little obliquely
from the mouth of the phial, the inflammation becomes
pensile in the air, undulating or winding after the appear-
ance of vapour, and would doubtless attend it longer if the
vapour remained together and did not confound itself with
the air. And the body itself of spirit of wine, if no remark-
able vapour goes before, the fire being applied to it and
kept to it a little while is changed into the flame, and it
expands with so much the greater ease and swiftness, as
the spirit is more widely diffused and occupies a less alti-
tude. But if the spirit of wine is put in the hollow of the
palm of the hand, and a lighted candle between the fingers
is placed near the palm of the hand (as boys are wont to
play with powder of resin), and -the spirit is gently moved
forward, and straight forward, not upward ; the body itself
burns in the air, and when burning sometimes descends in
a right direction, sometimes unfolds a little cloud flying in
the air, which nevertheless verges itself to descent; some-
times when set on fire it cleaves burning, to the roof or
sides, or floor of the room, and ‘gradually becomes extinct.
Vinegar, verjuice, wine, milk, and other simple liquors
(I speak of vegetable and animal substances, for of minerals
I will treat by themselves), have their modes of expansion,
and some remarkable differences attending them, which it
would be out of place here to enumerate: but they are in
those natures which we have remarked in the processes of

water, oil, and spirit of wine; namely, in the degree of heat ;

and mode of expansion, which is threefold, either in the

whole body or in froth, or in rather large bubbles; for fat

bodies, of unripe juice, as generally ascend in greater bub-
bles, of dried sap, as vinegar, in less. A collection of spirit
moreover differs in its site. For in the boiling of wine, the
bubbles begin to collect themselves about the middle, in
vinegar about the sides: and it is the same in ripe and
strong wine, and again in vapid or stale, when they are
infused. But all liquors, even oil itself, before they begin
to boil cast up a few and thin half bubbles about the sides
of the vessel. And all liquors boil and are consumed
quicker in a small than in a great quantity.

148 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

CAUTION.

1 consider that compounded liquors are not proper to
the history of the expansion and union of matter through
the medium of fire, because they disturb and confuse the
ratios of simple expansion and coition by their separations
and mixtures. I leave them, therefore, for the proper his-
tory of the separation and mixture of matter.

HISTORY.

Spirit of wine put in an experiment with that elastic
cap (which I described when speaking of water) obtains
this sort of expansion. I find that a weight of six penny-
weights consumed and dissolved into vapour filled and
fully inflated a great bladder which could contain eight
pints; which bladder was greater by sixteen times than
that which I used in the case of water, which received
only half a pint. But in the experiment of the water,
there was a consumption of the weight of only two penny-
weights, which is only the third part of six pennyweights.
The ratios being thus calculated, the expansion of the
vapour of spirit of wine bears a fivefold ratio and more to
the expansion of the vapour of water. And that very great
expansion did not keep the body, on the removal of the
vessel from the fire, from hastening to recover itself, the
bladder forthwith becoming red and remarkably contracted.
And from this experiment I began to estimate the expan-
sion of the body of flame on probable though not indis-
putable conjecture. For since the vapour of spirit of wine
is so inflammable, and approaches so near the nature of
fire, | considered that the ratios of spirit of wine compared
with fire agreed with the ratios of the vapour of water
compared with air. For we may suppose that the ratios of
perfect and fixed bodies (as of air and fire) are in harmony
with those of the elements or imperfect and moving bodies
(as of vapours). And it will follow from this that fire
exceeds air by five degrees in the rarity or expansion of
matter. For such is the excess of their respective vapours
as was before said. For the fire itself may bear the ratio
of one and a half to the proper vapour, not the impure
but the highly prepared vapour; as I have laid it down
also that air can have the same ratio to the vapour of water
highly prepared. And these experiments do not disagree
materially with what we may frequently observe. For if
you blow out a lighted wax candle, and mark the dimen-

‘egal ee

PHENOMENA OF 'THE UNIVERSE. 149

sion of the smoky thread which ascends, (in the lowest
part before it is dispersed), and place the candle near the
fire, and again look at that portion of the fire which first
reaches it, you will not imagine that it exceeds more than
double the magnitude of the smoke. If you mark with
accuracy the dimension of gunpowder, or for greater cer-
tainty measure it in a little box, and again take the dimen-
sion of its flame after it has been lit, you will readily grant
that the flame exceeds the body (as far as it can be told at
first sight) a thousand degrees. And from what has been
before laid down, there should be a considerable proportion
of fire according to the nitre. But this I will explain more
perfectly in my observations upon this history. We very
clearly see that air itself is expanded and contracted from
heat and cold in those bodies of wind which physicians
use for attraction. For these warmed over the fire, and
then applied immediately to the body, draw the skin, the
air contracting itself aud gradually recovering itself. And
this it does of itself, although the hemp may not have been
put on and heated, which is used to produce a more power-
ful attraction. Moreover, if a cold sponge be applied out-
side over the blister the air contracts itself so much the
more by virtue of the cold, and the attraction becomes
more determined.

I have put a silver saltcellar of the usual bell-tower
form, in a bath or goblet filled with water, bearing the air
deprest with itself to the bottom of the vessel. I then put
two or three live coals in the little hollow space in which
the salt is placed when applied to its ordinary use, and
raised a flame by blowing. Very soon after, the air, rari-
fied by the heat, and impatient of its former orbit, lifted up
the bottom of the saltcellar on one side, and ascended in
bubbles. Hero describes an altar so constructed as that if
you laid a holocaust upon it and set it on fire, suddenly
water would fall to extinguish the fire. This might be
accomplished by air being received under the altar in a
hollow space closed up, and with no other way of exit
(when the air was extended by the fire) but where it might
force out the water prepared for this purpose, in the chan-
nel. There were lately in this country some Hollanders
who had invented a musical instrument, which on being
struck by the rays of the sun gave out a certain harmony.
This was very probably owing to the extension of the
heated air which could produce the motion of the in-
strument, since it is certain that air acted upon by the

150 PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE.

contact of the very slightest heat, immediately begets ex-
pansion.

But in order to come at a more accurate knowledge of
the expansion of the air let into that elastic bladder, I took
an empty glass (I mean, filled only with air) and placed
upon the bladder the cap of which I before treated.
But when the phial was placed over the fire, the air ex-
tended itself more quickly and with less heat than water
or spirit of wine, but with not a very ample expansion.
For it bore this proportion. If the bladder held less by
six ounces than the phial itself, the air completely filled
and inflated it; it did not ascend easily on greater expan-
sion ; and no visible body proceeded out of it, after making
a little hole in the top of the bladder, until it was inflated.

A. 1. Re.

DESCRIPTION OF THE INTELLECTUAL GLOBE.

CHAPTER I.

Division general of Human Learning into History, Poesy,
Philosophy, according to the three Faculties of the Mind,
Memory, Imagination, Reason; showing that the same
Division holds also in matters Theological ; since the Ves-
sel, namely Human’ Intellect, is the same, though the
matter contained, and the mode of its entrance, : dif-
ferent.

We adopt that division of human learning which is cor-
relative to the three faculties of the intellect. We there-
fore set down its parts as three, History, Poesy, Philo-
sophy :—history has reference to memory, poesy to imagi-
nation, philosophy to reason. By poesy in this place we
mean nothing else but feigned history. History is, properly,
the history of individual facts, the impressions of which
are the earliest and most ancient guests of the human
mind, and as it were the primitive matter of the sciences.
To deal with these individuals and that matter forms the
mind’s habitual employment, and occasionally, its amuse-
ment. For all science is the labour and handicraft of the
mind; poetry can only be considered its recreation. In
philosophy the mind is enslaved to things, in poesy it is let

INTELLECTUAL GLOBE. 151

loose from the bondage of things, and breaks forth illimita-
bly, and creates at will. And any one may easily compre-
hend that this is so, who shall seek the source of things
intellectual even on the simplest principles, and with the
most crass apprehension. For the images of things indi-
vidual are admitted into the sense and fixed in the memory.
They pass into the memory as it were whole, in the same
manner as they present themselves. These the mind recals
and retraces; and, which is its proper business, puts toge-
ther and decomposes their parts. Now individuals seve-
rally have something in common one with another, and
again something diverse and complex. Composition and
division takes place either at the will of the mind itself, or
agreeably to what is found in nature. If it is done at the
mere volition of the mind, and such parts of things are
arbitrarily applied, so as to form a certain likeness of some
individual, it is the work of imagination ; which, restrained
by no law or necessity of nature or of matter, can unite
things which in nature are most discordant, and divide
those which never exist in separation, so as however this
is still confined to such original parts of the individuals.
For there is no imagination, not even a dream, of objects
which have not in some shape presented themselves to the
senses. Again, if the same sections of objects be joined or
divided according to the real evidence of things, and as
they actually present themselves in nature, or at least as
they are observed to present themselves according to the
general apprehension of mankind, this is the office of
reason ; and all such adjustment is ascribed to reason.
Whence it clearly appears that from these three sources
there arise the three several streams of history, poesy,
and philosophy, and that there cannot be other or more
branches than these. For under the name of philosophy
we comprehend all the arts and sciences, and whatever in
short can, from the presentment of the several objects of
nature, be by the mind collected and arranged into general
notions. Nor do we think that there is occasion, in consi-
deration of the extent of the subject, for any other division
of learning than that which we have stated above. For
though the responses of a divine oracle and of the senses
are different, no doubt, both in the matter and the mode by
which it finds access to the mind; yet the spirit of man
which receives both is one and the same, just as different
liquors passing through different apertures are received
into one and the same vessel. Wherefore we assert that

152 INTELLECTUAL GLOBE.

history itself either consists of sacred history, or of divine
precepts and doctrines, which are, so to speak, an every-
day philosophy. And that part which seems to fall with-
out this division, prophecy, is itself a species of history,
with the prerogative of deity stamped upon it of making
all times one duration, so that the narrative may anticipate
the fact; thus also the mode of promulgating vaticination
by vision, or the heavenly doctrines by parables, partakes
of the nature of poetry.

CHAP. II.

A partition of History into Natural and Civil, Ecclesiasti-
cal, Literary, and Particular, included in Civil History.
A division of Natural History into the History of Gene-
rations, Preter-generations, and Arts; according to the
three states of Nature, namely, Nature in course, vary-
ing, and constrained.

History is either natural or civil. In natural history we
recount the events and doings of nature; in civil, of men.
Things divine no doubt have a conspicuous share in both,
but chiefly in human, so as to constitute a branch of their
own in history, which we are accustomed to call sacred or
ecclesiastical. We shall therefore assign that branch to
the province of civil history: and we shall first speak of
natural history. There is extant no natural history of
things individual. Not that we would lay down the false
position that history ought to be engrossed with describing
individuals, which are limited in time and place. For in
that view it is proper there should be none; since, however,
there is a general resemblance of natural objects, so that if
you know one you know all, it were superfluous and inter-
minable to speak of individuals. Thus if in any case that
indistinguishable general resemblance be wanting, natural
history admits individuals those, that is, of which there is
not a number or family. For a history of the sun, the
moon, the earth, and the like, which are unique in their
species, is most properly written, and no less of those
which conspicuously vary from their species and are mon-
strous; since the description and the knowledge of the
species neither sufficiently nor competently supplies the
want of it. Wherefore natural history does not exclude
these two classes of individuals, but is in by far the largest

INTELLECTUAL GLOBE. 153

part of it, as we have already stated, employed about spe-
cies. But we attempt a partition of natural history, de-
rived from the tendency and condition of nature herself,
which is found placed in three several states, and subject
as it were to three modes of government. For nature is
either free, spontaneously diffusing and developing itself in
its wonted course, that is, when nature depends upon itself,
in no way obstructed and subdued, as in the heavens, ani-
mals, plants, and all the natural productions; or again, it
is evidently torn down and precipitated from its proper
state by the pravity and erratic tendency of obdurate and
resisting matter, or by violence of obstacles, as is the case
in the care of monsters and unnatural productions; or,
finally, it is coerced by the art and industry of man,
fashioned, altered, and as it were made anew, as in things
artificial. For in things artificial nature seems as it were
new made, and there is seen a new face of things, or second
universe. Wherefore natural history of either the liberty
of nature or its errors into bonds. Now if it be unpleasing
to any one that the arts should be called the bonds of
nature, since they are rather to be considered its deliverers
and champions, since they make nature in some instances
mistress of her object, by reducing obstacles into her order.
We regard little such delicacies and elegancies of lan-
guage. We only mean to signify this, that nature, by
means of arts, is placed by compulsion under a necessity of
doing that which without arts would not have been done,
whether that be denominated force and bonds, or assistance,
and consummating skill. We shall therefore divide natu-
ral history into the history of generations, the history of
preter-generations, and the history of arts, which we are
accustomed to call mechanical and experimental history.
And we willingly place the history of arts among the spe-
cies of natural history, because these has obtained a now
inveterate mode of speaking and notion, as if art were
something different from nature, so that things artificial
ought to be discriminated from things natural, as if wholly
and generically different ; whence arises this evil, that most
writers of natural history think they have accomplished
their task if they have achieved a history of animals,
plants, or minerals, omitting the experiments of mechanics,
which are of by far the greatest consequence to philosophy;
and there has insinuated itself into mens’ minds a still
subtler error, namely this, that art is conceived to be a
sort of addition to nature, the proper effect of which is

154 INTELLECTUAL GLOBE.

to perfect what nature has begun, or to correct her where
she has deviated ; but by no means to work radical changes
in her, and shake her at the roots, which has been a source
of great despondency in the attempts of men. Whereas,
on the contrary, that ought to be sunk deep that things
artificial do not differ from natural in form or essence but
in efficients only; that in reality man has no power over
nature, except that of motion, namely, to apply or to remove
natural bodies; but nature performs all the rest within
herself. Wherefore when there is granted a proper appli-
cation or removal of natural bodies, men and art can do
all; when not granted, nothing. Again, provided that
due admission and removal takes place in order to some
effect, it matters not whether it be done by man or by art,
or by nature without man. Nor is the one more potent
than the other; so if any one by sprinkling water create
the apparition of a rainbow upon a wall, he does not find
nature less obedient than when the same takes place in the
air on humid clouds. Again, when gold is found pure in
veins, where nature has performed exactly the same office
to herself, as if pure gold were extracted by means of the
smelting pot and ministry of man. Sometimes, too, a
ministry of this kind is, by the laws of the universe, com-
mitted to other animals. For honey is not the less an
artificial production, which is produced through the medium
of the industry of the bee, than sugar which is produced
by that of man; and in manna, which is a similar compo-
sition, nature is content with her own chymistry. Since
then nature is one and the same thing, and its power all
pervading and never at war with itself, these three things
ought to be understood as equally subordinate only to
nature; the course of nature, the eccentricity of nature,
and art or man added to the universe, and therefore it is
fitting that all these things should be interwoven in one
continuous series of narrations, which Caius ene’ in a
great manner attempted, who embraced natural history
with a comprehensiveness of plan suitable to its dignity,
but having embraced it, treated it most meagerly. Let this
then be the first division of natural history.

INTELLECTUAL GLOBE. 155

CHAP. IIT.

A Partition of Natural History according to its use and end,
showing that by far the noblest end of Natural History
is its Ministration in the first instance to found Philoso-
phy; and that such a History—a History modelled in
order to such end, is wanted.

Bur Natural History, threefold in its subject (as we have
stated), is twofold in its use. For it is employed either for
the purpose of furnishing knowledge of those facts which
are recorded by the history, or as the primitive matter of
philosophy. But if the noblest end of natural history is
this, that it is so to speak the stuff and Hy/le of a just and
legitimate induction, and draws enough from the sense to
instruct the intellect. For that other sort of history, which
either delights by the charm of the narration, or pleases by
its subserviency to immediate experiments, and which is in
request either in respect of such pleasure or such profit, is
of a cast inferior, and in its nature meaner, in comparison
with that of which it is the nature and the quality to serve
as an appropriate preparation to found philosophy. For
that is the true natural history which is established as an
immoveable and eternal foundation for true and practical
philosophy ; which affords the first genial kindling to the
pure light of nature, wherein all phantasms vanish ; and of
which the genius, neglected and unappeased by fit offer-
ings, has, in an evil hour, sent among us those legions of
spectres and worlds of shadows, which we see hovering over
all the expanse of the philosophies,—along with great and
lamentable dearth of useful works. Now we assert and
explicitly testify, that a natural history, such as it ought to
be in order to this end, is not possessed, but ought to be
placed among histories wanting. And let not either the
great names of the ancients, or the great tomes of the mo-
derns, startle the mental vision of any one; and let him not
think that our complaint is the less just. We are well
aware, that there is extant a natural history, voluminous in
its bulk, entertaining from its variety, often interesting,
elaborate even to scrupulosity. But if one shall extract
from it accounts derived from fable and antiquity, the quo-
tations and testimonies of authors, the empty questions
and controversies, and, finally, that part of it which is

156 INTELLECTUAL GLOBE.

mere words and rhetorical ornament (which is better adapted
to disquisition and the talk of literary nights than to estab-
lish philosophy), this great appearance of substance sub-
sides to nothing. Thus there seems to have been desiderated
and collected by some men, in this instance, rather a The-
saurus for the allusions of eloquence, than a solid and
authentic narrative of facts. Besides it seems to no great
purpose to recount or know the wonderful varieties of
flowers of the iris or the tulip, of shells, or dogs, or hawks.
For these are nothing but the sport or wantonness of na-
ture, and approach nearly the nature of individuals. By
which means men acquire exquisite minuteness of know-
ledge in the objects, but meager and even useless informa-
tion as respects the purposes, of science. Yet these are the
things of which the common natural history makes such
an ostentatious display. Now though natural history has,
on the one hand, degenerated into foreign, and, on the
other, indulged in superfluous inquiries, yet assuredly great
and valuable parts of it have either been entirely passed
over, or carelessly and lightly handled. And in the whole
scope of its investigations and its accumulations, it is not
by any means found adapted and qualified to attain the
end of which we speak, namely, to found philosophy. This
will appear best in its particular branches, and by a com-
parison of that history, whose descriptions we shall pre-
sently submit to the eyes of man, with that which now ob-
tains.

CHAP. TY.

The Treatise begins by stating what the History wanted
ought to be; namely, a Natural History, as a foundation
Sor Philosophy. To unfold this more clearly, there is first
exhibited a Scheme of the History of Generations. Of this
the Parts are set down as five: The first, the History of the
Heavenly Bodies ; the second, of Meteors ; the third,of Earth
and Sea; the fourth, of the greater Colleges of things,
that is of Elements or Masses; the fifth of the smaller
Colleges or Species. The History of primitive Virtues is
reserved, till the Exposition of the first Division, namely,
of Generations, Preter-generations, and Arts, is completed.

As we think it concerns our honour not to leave to others
the execution of the history which we desire, but to impose
it as a task upon ourselves, since in proportion as the sub-

ee

——

INTELLECTUAL GLOBE. £57

ject may seem open to the labour of all, in the same pro-
portion, there is greater risk of their deviating from the
design, and we have therefore distinguished it as forming
the third part of our history; yet faithfully observe our
purpose of explaining and exhibiting what hath been neg-
lected, and place some part of science in security, should
we be cut off by any of the accidents of humanity; we have
thought it good to add now and in this place, our senti-
ments and counsels respecting this subject. We set down
of the history of generations, or nature at large, five divi-
sions. These are the history of the ether, the history of
meteors and of the regions of the air as they are called; for
the lower track circumambient to the earth’s surface, and to
the bodies which are placed in it, we refer to the history of
meteors. Thirdly, there follows the history of the earth and
sea, which conjointly compose one globe. And so far
nature is divided according to place, and the things occu-
pying those places. The other two parts discriminate sub-
stances, or rather masses of substances. For homogeneous
substances are usually collected in larger or smaller masses,
which we have been wont to name larger and smaller col-
leges of things, and they have the same relation as in
human polity a tribe and family. Therefore we place the
fourth in order, the history of the elements or larger col-
leges; fifthly and lastly, the history of species or smaller
colleges. We mean elements to be taken in this sense, not
that they should be understood as the principles of things,
but as larger masses of connatural substances. That larger
size happens by reason of the manageable, simple, obvious,
and perfected texture of the matter; whereas species are
furnished by nature sparingly, because of the dissimilarity,
and in most instances, the organic structure of the texture.
Now of the history of those properties which may be re-
garded as the cardinal and catholic virtues of nature, den-
sity, rarity, levity, gravity, heat, cold, consistency, fluidity,
similarity, dissimilarity, specific, organic, and the like,
along with the motions contributing to them, as of antitype,
connexion, coition, expansion, and the rest of such proper-
ties and motions (the history of which we would have col-
lected and complete before we come to the point, where the
intellect is to work upon them), and of the mode of pre-
paring that history ; we shall discourse after finishing the
explanation of the three divisions, generation, preeter-gene-
ration, and arts. For we have not comprehended that
among the three divisions, since it is not properly a history,

158 INTELLECTUAL GLOBE.

but something between history and philosophy, a sort of
middle term. At present we shall speak and give our coun-
sels respecting the history of the heavenly bodies, and then
of the others.

CHAT. ¥

Resumes the consideration of the History of the Heavenly
Bodies, showing what it ought to be in kind, and that the
legitimate ordering of the History ought to turn upon
three kinds of Precepts, namely, concerning the End of
such History, the Matter, and Mode of conducting it.

We would have the history of the celestial bodies simple,
not vitiated by arbitrary dogmas, but, as it were, suspended
out of the reach of the forcible grappling and presumption
of theories, only embracing phenomena raw and detached,
which had grown up so to speak blended with such dogmas;
finally, such a history as may set forth narratives of facts
exactly in the same manner as if nothing had been fixed
by the arts of astronomy and astrology, but only as if expe-
riments and observations had been diligently collected and
perspicuously described. In which kind of history we find
nothing hitherto done to accord with our wish. Caius
Pliny attempted only something of the kind in a cursory
and inexact style; but a valuable history might be ex-
tracted and dug from the mine of Ptolemy and Cone
and the more informed teachers of astronomy, by exhaust-
ing all the experiments, and adding the observations of the
moderns. And if it should appear to any one surprising,
that we should throw back again what had been secured,
enlarged, and rectified, to its primitive barbarism, and the
simplicity of its crude observations, we answer thus; with
none of the ostentation of the earlier inventors, we attempt
a far nobler work, for we think not of calculations and pre-
dictions, but of philosophy—such, we mean, as shall in-
struct the human mind, not only with respect to the motion
of the higher bodies and its periods, but concerning their sub-
stance, their various qualities, their power and influence, ac-
cording to methods natural and admitting of no uncertainty,
free from the superstition and childishness of tradition; and
again, as respects their motion itself, to discover and unfold
not what is reconcileable to known phenomena, but what
is found on penetrating deep into nature, and is true in act

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 159

and in reality. And any one may easily observe both that
those who have supposed that the earth revolves on its axis,
and those, on the other hand, who have held it to be the
centre of motion, the ancient formation, depend on a nearly
balanced and doubtful advocacy of phenomena. Moreover,
the advocate in our day of the new formation, who makes
the sun the centre of the second motion, as the earth of the
first, while the planets, in their respective orbits, seem to
join in a dance round the sun, which some of the ancients
suspected in the case of Mercury and Venus,—had he pur-
sued his thoughts to their result, seems to have had it in
his power certainly to bring the question to a fair settle-
ment. Nor, indeed, have we any doubt that other hypo-
theses of such formations, may be invented by ingenious
and acute thinkers. Nor are those who promulgate such
theories much delighted, because what they propose is true,
but only because it is a convenient hypothesis for form-
ing calculations and astronomical tables. But our method
has a widely different object. For we seek not accom-
modations which may be various, but truth, which is one.
To attain this, a genuine history of phenomena would
open a way; one tainted with theory would obstruct it.
Nor shall we here omit, that we, as the result of such
a history of the heavenly bodies, made and accumulated
according to our rules, indulge not only the hope of a dis-
covery of the truth with reference to the heavenly bodies,
but still more of such discovery in the observation of
the affections and appetencies of matter in either world.
For that supposed discrepancy between the celestial and
sublunary bodies appears to us a figment at once drivelling
and presumptuous, since it is most indubitable that a variety
of effects, such as expansion, contraction, impression, retro-
cession, assimilation, union, and the like, have their seat
not merely among us, but in the highest part of heaven,
and in the entrails of the earth. Other and more faithful
interpreters than these there are none whom we can call in
and consult, to assist human intellect in penetrating the
depths of the earth, which are invisible, and the height of
heaven, which is generally seen under optical illusion.
Wherefore the ancients excellently devised of Proteus that
he was of many shapes, and also noted as the prince of all
diviners, knowing the past, the future, and the mysteries of
the present. For he who knows the catholic appetencies
of matter, and knows by them what is possible, cannot be
ignorant what is, and what will be, found true of things taken

160 INTELLECTUAL GLOBE.

within them. Wherefore we repose great hope and confi-
dence in the methods of physics for advancing the science
of astronomy, meaning by physical inquiries, not those
which are commonly thought so, but only the doctrine
regarding those tendencies of matter which no diversity of
regions or position can detach or dissever from it. Noe
would we, therefore, (to return to our theme), wish any labour
to be spared, which could be employed in statements and
observations of the heavenly bodies. For in proportion as
there is a richer fund of appearances of this sort, in the same
proportion will the whole subject be more easily mastered,
and have more solidity. Of which, before we say any thing
further, we have reason assuredly to congratulate the world,
both on the labour of mechanicians, and the diligence and
accuracy of certain learned men, that they have of late at-
tempted so to speak, to establish by means of optical instru-
ments, as by means of trading vessels and passage-boats, to
open up an intercourse with the heavenly bodies. And
this undertaking we regard as both in its end and endeavour
something noble and worthy of mankind. And such men
are so much the more deserving of praise, both in their
attempt and their basis of belief, because they have ho-
nestly and distinctly planted before them the facts for exa-
mination as they severally present themselves. It remains
only that they have perseverance united with great severity
of judgment, that they change their instruments, that they
increase the amount of evidence, that they subject to ex-
periments each phenomenon, and frequently, and in a
variety of ways; finally, that they both place before them-
selves and lay open to others, whatever may be objected in
favour of the contrary conclusion, and that they do not
disdain to notice even the most minute incongruity, lest
that should happen to them which happened to Democritus
and his old woman about the figs of exquisite flavour,
namely, to find the old wife wiser than the philosopher ;
and lest some silly and ridiculous mistake should lie at
the bottom of a high and soaring theory. Having pre-
mised these remarks on the general subject, let us proceed
to a more detailed statement of our astronomical history,
in order that we may show both what, and what kind of
facts, ought to be inquired into in regard to the heavenly
bodies. First then we shall propose the questions of natu-
ral philosophy, or at least some of them, and those of
greatest moment to the use of man. Next after these we
shall mention those uses to mankind which may probably

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 16]

be derived from the contemplation of the heavenly bodies:
both of these as showing the design of the history: that
those whose task it shall be to compile a history of the
heavenly bodies may know what they do, and may have
these questions, along with the works and practical eftects
to arise from them, in their minds’ eye and contemplation.
Whence they may build up and prepare a history such
as shall be adapted for the decision of questions of this
sort, and for furnishing such fruits and advantages to man-
kind. We mean questions of that kind which are appli-
cable to the doings of nature, not their causes. For that
is the proper province of history. We shall then perspi-
cuously state in what the history of the heavenly bodies
consists ; what are its parts; what things are to be learned
or examined ; what experiments are to be set on foot and
performed ; what observations are to be used and weighed ;
thus proposing, so to speak, certain inductive topics or
articles of examination respecting the heavenly bodies.
Lastly, we shall state something not only concerning what
ought properly to be inquired into, but concerning this,—
how, when the inquiries are completed, they ought to be
meditated, and exhibited, and reduced to writing; lest the
diligence employed in the first part of the inquiry should
be lost in what succeeds; or, which is worse, lest the ad-
vances subsequently made should proceed upon feeble and
fallacious foundations. Finally, we shall state both with
what object, and what, and how, inquiry ought to be made
respecting the heavenly bodies.

CHAP. VI.

That Philosophical Questions about the Heavenly Bodies,
even though they go beyond the common ideas, and be
somewhat difficult, ought to be canvassed. And there are
proposed five questions about the System itself : whether it
be a System? and, supposing it to be so, what is its Centre,
what is its Depth, what is its Connection, and what its
Distribution of Parts?

AND now, doubtless, we shall be considered by some as

disinterring the ashes of old questions, long, as it were,

consigned to the dust of the grave; nay, as evoking their

very ghosts, and urging them with fresh interrogatories of

our own. But since the philosophy, hitherto in vogue,
VOL. XV. M

162 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

respecting the heavenly bodies, has no solidity; and since
this has been always laid down by us as a sacred and in-
variable rule, that all must abide the new award of a legiti-
mate induction ; and since, if perchance some questions are
left behind us untouched, so much the less industry and
pains will be exerted in collecting the facts upon them, in
consequence of its appearing superfluous to inquire into
points on which no question has ever been moved: we hold
it necessary to take in hand all questions which the uni-
verse may any where offer to our consideration. Besides,
in proportion as we are less assured of our ability to deter-
mine questions by the method we pursue, so much the
more confidently do we entertain them. For we see how
all must end.

The first question, then, is, whether there be a system,
that is, whether the world, or universal frame of things, be
a spherical whole, possessing a centre? or rather, whether
the single globes of the earth and stars are placed in dis-
persion, and each attached, as it were, by its own root,
without a common middle point or centre? The school of
Democritus and Epicurus, it is true, made a boast that their
authors had “ broken down the walls of the world.” Yet
that, certainly, is not a consequence of the tenets maintained
by them. For Democritus having laid down his notion of
matter, or seminal atoms, infinite in number, limited in
their properties and powers,—atoms in agitation, and from
eternity unfixed in any possible structure or position, was
not led, in virtue of that opinion, to maintain the exist-
ence of a number of worlds, distinguished by variety of
form, subject to birth and dissolution, some better con-
structed, some more loosely coherent, also of embryo worlds,
and agglomerations formed between world and_ world.
But, were all this assumed, it hinders not that the por- _
tion of matter which has been assigned to the structure of —
this our world, lying, as it does, under our own observa-
tion, should possess a spherical figure. For, necessarily,
each of those worlds must have taken some configuration.
For allowing that in infinity there can be no central point,
yet in the parts of that infinity there may exist a spherical
figure, no less in a world, than ina mortar. Democritus, how-
ever, excelled only as an analyser of the world: in dealing
with its aggregates and totality, he was inferior even to or-
dinary philosophers. The opinion of which we are now to
speak, which really destroyed and exploded the notion of a
system, was that of Heraclides of Pontus, Ecphantus and

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 163

Nicetas of Syracuse, and particularly of Philolaus, also in
our age of Gilbertus, and all, (except Galileo), who have held
that the earth is a planet, moves, and is, as it were, one of the
stars. And this idea has solidity thus far, that the planets
and single stars, and the countless number which from their
distance baffle our vision, and others also unseen by us, from
their being not of a luminous but opaque nature, each in its
respective orbit and primary tour through that illimitable
expanse which we behold, whether of vacant space or of
some subtler and almost indiscernible substance, are dis-
persed and lie about like islands in a vast ocean, and
revolve not upon a common centre, but each upon that of
its respective orbit, some absolutely, others with some
progressive motion of their own centre. There is one
very great difficulty in their opinion, namely, that they
altogether banish rest, or an immoveable point from na-
ture. Now it seems that, as there are in nature: re-
volving bodies which are borne along in interminable and
ceaseless motion, so, on the contrary, there ought to be
some body which is quiescent; between which we place
the intermediate nature of those which are carried in a
straight-lined path, since motion in a straight line is suit-
able to fragments of spheres, and things exiled, so to speak,
from their natural seats, which move towards orbs homo-
geneous with themselves, in order that, united with these,
they may either be rotatory or quiescent. But of this ques-
tion, whether there be a system, a conclusion will be obtained
by means of those which relate to and determine the motion
of the earth, whether the earth revolve or be at rest, and
to the matter of the stars, whether it be solid or igneous?
For if the earth stands still, and the heavens perform a
diurnal revolution, undoubtedly it is a system; but if the
earth be rotatory, it is nevertheless not absolutely proved
that it is not a system, because we may still fix another
centre of the system, such as the sun, or something else.
Again, if the orb of the earth alone is crass and solid, it
seems as if the matter of the universe was agglomerated and
condensed into that centre: but if the moon and other planets
are found to be also composed of crass and solid matter,
it seems that dense bodies do not unite in any centre, but
lie dispersedly, and so to speak, at random. Finally, if in
the interstellar spaces we place a vacuum coacervatum, then
the several orbs should seem to have round them, first,
the envelope of certain subtle effluvia, and then the va-
cuum. But if these spaces are a plenum, there should

164 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

seem to be a union of the denser in the centre, and an ex-
pulsion of the rarer substances, to the circumference. Now
it contributes materially to science to know the connexions
of questions with one another, because under some of them
there is found history or inductive matter to furnish their
solution, under others none.

But granting a system, next comes our second question,
What is the centre of the system? For if to any of the
orbs ought to be assigned the central place, there appear
first to be two orbs which present the character of a middle
point or centre—the earth and the sun. In favour of the
earth there are our senses, and immemorial opinion, and
most of all this circumstance, that as dense bodies contract
into a narrow, and rare are diffused over a wide space,
and the area of every circle contracts towards its centre,
it seems to follow of necessity that the contracted part
should be placed at the centre of the world, as the appro-
priate, and, as it were, the only place for dense bodies. For
the sun again this reason makes, that to a body whose
functions in the system are greatest and most potent, that
place ought to be assigned from which it can best act
upon, and diffuse its influence over the entire system. To
this we may add that the sun evidently has as his satellites
Venus and Mercury, and, in the opinion of Tycho, also the
rest of the planets; so that the sun plainly appears to pos-
sess the nature, and to perform, in some instances, the office
of a centre. Therefore we are brought so much nearer
the determination that it is the centre of the universe, which
was the assertion of Copernicus. But in the system of
Copernicus there are many and great difficulties : first, there
is something revolting to belief, in encumbering the earth
with three motions, in detaching the sun from the group of
planets with which it has so many common properties,
in introducing so much immobility into the system of
nature, (particularly by making the stars and sun immove-
able, the bodies most luminous and sparkling of any), in
wishing to fasten, as it were, the moon to the epicycle
of the earth, and in some other assumptions which he
makes ;—savouring of the character of a man who thinks
nothing of inventing any figment at the expense of na-
ture, provided the bowls of haphazard roll well. But if
we are to ascribe motion to the earth, it seems more consis-
tent to banish the idea of a system, and of various globes
conceived to be distributed over space, according to the idea
of those whom we have already mentioned, than to estab-

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 165

lish such a system with the sun for its centre. And the
consent of later ages and of antiquity has rather anticipated
and sanctioned that idea than not. For the supposition of
the earth’s motion is not new, but, as we have already said,
echoed from the ancients; but that of the sun being the
centre of the world, and immoveably fixed, is entirely new,
(if we except the supposed mention of it in an ill translated
verse) and was first promulgated by Copernicus.

A third question follows with respect to the depth of the
system, not that any exact measure of. it can be taken, but
that it may be set down for certain: whether the starry
heaven is, so to speak, one region, or as it is commonly
expressed, orb, or whether the stars which are denominated
fixed, are higher than the others, in a sort of abysmal pro-
found? For it cannot be that they are of equal height, if
we understand this strictly ; for the stars are undoubtedly
not arranged as in a plane, having a certain measureable
size on a superficies, like spots or embedded gems, but
are entire globes, large, and lying deep in the profound,
Wherefore when they are found of such disproportionate
magnitude, it is by all means requisite that some of them
should come out more than others, either upwards or down-
wards; nor can it be that either in the upper or lower part
of them, they are joined in one continuous layer. Were
this true of certain portions of the stars, it would be rash to
assert it of them in their aggregate, that the stars are not
higher placed the one than the other; but even though
this were true, still we can affirm a defined and very per-
ceptible depth or thickness of that region which is called
the sphere or starry heaven, containing such projecting
points and varieties of altitude; for we see, from the apo-
gees and perigees of the planets, that there belongs to their
several heavens a certain distinguishable depth through
which they mount and descend. But that question only
regards this point,—whether there are stars one above
another as planet above planet, and, as it were, in different
orbits? And that again is in like manner collateral to the
other question, regarding the motion or condition of the
earth. For if the stars revolve with a diurnal motion about
the earth, since they are all carried with the like celerity,
and as it were with the one impulse; and since it 1s
plainly apparent that each of the planets, as it varies in
height or lowness of position, so it also varies in rapidity
or slowness of motion ;—it is probable that stars, equal in
the swiftness of their revolution, are placed in one region of

166 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

ether, of which although the thickness or depth may be
supposed considerable, still it is not so great as to create
a difference in their incitation or celerity, but only such,
that through the whole of each region respectively, all the
bodies revolve simultaneously as if fastened with the chain
of one common essence, or, at least with such discrepancy
as, by reason of the- distance, is not brought within our
vision. Now, if the earth moves, the stars may either
stand still (as Copernicus thought), or, which is far more
probable, and was suggested by Gilbertus, they may re-
volve each in its place, round its own centre, without any
motion of that centre, (as the earth does, if you divide its
diurnal motion from those two supposed motions which
~ Copernicus has superadded to it). For whichever of these
is the fact, it hinders not that there may be stars ranged
one above another, till they escape our vision.

The fourth question relates to the cohesion of the sys-
tem, or to the substance connecting it. As to the na-
ture and essential properties of that body or thing which
is thought to be pure ether, and is interfused between
the stars, we shall presently inquire. We shall now speak
only of the principle of cohesion in the system. There are
three modes of viewing this. For we must either grant a va-
cuum, or a substance whose parts are in contact, or lastly, in
continuity. Our first inquiry is, whether there is an extent of
absolute vacuity or a vacuum coacervatum in the interstellar
space, which Gilbertus ably maintained, and which several
of the ancients appear to countenance, who supposed that
the various orbs were scattered about without any regular
system, especially those who declared the bodies of the
stars to be compact masses. Such an opinion amounts to
this, that all the globes, as well the stars as the earth, con-
sist of solid and dense matter. That they are enveloped,
next their surface, with a certain description of bodies,
which are so far homogeneous to their respective globes,
but nevertheless more thin, feeble, and attenuated, and
which are nothing but effluvia or emanations from the globes
themselves, such as are vapours and exhalations, and air
itself, if compared with earth. That these effluvia reach
to a distance not considerable round each several globe,
and that the rest of the interval between sete which
is incomparably the largest part, is a void. hich opinion
we may be prepared to adopt by the fact, that the bodies
of the stars are visible from such a prodigious distance.
For were the whole of that space full, especially of bodies

«

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 167

extremely unequal in their degrees of density and rarity,
so great would be the refraction of their rays that they could
not be propagated to our vision, which, if by far the greatest
portion of this space were unoccupied, it is consistent to
_ believe they might be. And, indeed, this question seems
to depend, in a great measure, on the question which we
shall immediately bring forward respecting the substance
of the stars, whether it be dense, or subtle, or expanded?
For if their substance be solid, it should certainly seem as
if nature were only occupied and in action about these
globes, and their boundaries, and had neglected, and as
it were left fallow, the imterposed spaces. Wherefore it
is not improbable that the globes are, towards their cen-
tres, more compact, towards their surface more lax, in their
circumambient substances and eflluvia grow less substan-
tial still, and finally terminate in a vacuum. On the other
hand, if the essence of the stars is subtle and igneous, it
will be manifest that the nature of rare is not merely pri-
vative, but of itself a powerful and primary element, not
less than the nature of solid, and that it exists in force or
prevails in the stars, in ether, and in the atmosphere, so
that there is need of the hypothesis of a vacuum coacer-
vatum. That question, too, about a vacuum in the inter-
stellar fields will depend upon another connected with the
great principles of nature: whether we must admit a vacuum
at all? And this not without modifying it by a distinction:
for it is one thing to deny a vacuum absolutely, and another
to deny a vacuum coacervatum. For much more solid
reasons may be alleged for a vacuum intermistum being in-
terposed to keep bodies in a certain degree of laxity, than for
maintaining a vacuum coacervatum (or large vacant spaces).
And not only was that ingenious man, and great mechanician
Hero sensible of this, but also Democritus and Leucippus,
the inventors of the theory of a vacuum, which Aristotle
attempts to attack and overthrow by certain logical subtle-
ties. These two most acute and famous philosophers admit
a vacuum intermistum in such a manner as to exclude a
vacuum coacervatum. For according to the opinion of De-
mocritus every vacuum is so limited and circumscribed as
not to admit of the separation or disruption of bodies beyond
certain limits, no more than it does of their contraction and
consolidation. Though in what has been preserved of the
writings of Democritus, this is no where propounded expli-
citly, yet he seems to say this, that bodies, as well as spaces,
are infinite, that otherwise (that is, if there were in fact

168 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

infinite space and finite bodies), bodies would never cohere :
therefore on account of coinfinity of matter and space a
vacuum Is necessarily compressed into certain limits; which
seems to have been his opinion, truly and accurately un-
derstood ; in other words, that certain limits must be set
to the developement or expansion of bodies through the
permeating vacuum ; not granting a vacuum apart, or space
unreplenished with body. But if there cannot be admitted
in the system, a vacuum of the nature of a solution of con-
tinuity, yet seeing there is found in the parts or portions of
the system so extreme a diversity of bodies that they seem
to be of different races and countries, there arises a second
question which relates to the connection of the system; it
is this, whether pure ether be one entire or unbroken stream,
or whether it consist of a variety of contiguous parts? Now
it is no part of our character to subtilize about words: but
by a contiguous body we understand one which lies upon,
without being amalgamated with, another body. Nor again
do we mean some impenetrable or hard superstratum, such
as the astronomers in general mean, but one such as fluids
exhibit, in the instance of water floating on the top of
quicksilver ; oil, of the water; air, of the oil. For no one
can doubt that in the immense expanse of ether there are
immense differences in rarity and density, and in many
other properties: but granting either, that is a plenum or
vacuum, this may equally be the fact. For it is sufficientl

certain that not even in the sea itself, the water at the top
and at the bottom is of the same consistency and taste;
and, in the air, there is extreme difference between the air
contiguous to the earth, and the upper air, and yet it is
one entire and unbroken liquid body. The question is
therefore brought to this point: whether the differences in
the tract of pure air, as it were, insinuate themselves in
a continuous stream of imperceptible gradations, or are
distributed and arranged into defined and conspicuous
limits, where bodies are joined in their locality, which could
not be amalgamated, even as among us air lies on water.
For to one who considers the matter simply, the whole
of that clear and limpid substance in which the globes
of the earth and sun are suspended and float, and which,
being interposed between those globes, by its quantity
and the space which it occupies, exceeds the dimension of
the globes, so to speak, innumerable times,—is a thing
undivided and perfectly united within itself. But to one
who looks into nature more correctly, this will plainly

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 169

appear, that nature is wont to make her way from one
locality to another, now by steps, anon abruptly by leaps,
and then reverses the progression. Otherwise, if any one
really looks into the case, there could be no structure, no
organized figure, did nature always proceed by impercep-
tible degrees. Wherefore this process by gradations may
be fitly placed in the intervals between worlds, but not in
a world, to the organization of which it is required that
things much dissimilar should be severed the one from the
other, and yet brought into close contiguity. Thus it is
that the air embraces and is in contact with the earth and
waters, a body widely different, and yet placed in proxi-
mity, not in the order of, first, earth, then vapour or fog,
then pure air, but air at once without an intermediate body.
And in the air and ether two substances we usually join
with one another, the most conspicuous and thorough di-
versity of all may be observed, from their quality being
more or less susceptible of a starry nature. ‘There appear
therefore to be three regions most distinctly lying between
the earth and the highest point of heaven: that is, the
region of the air, the region of the planetary heaven, and
the region of the starry heaven. Now in the lowest region
the substance of the stars is not found, it exists in the
middle in the form of conglobation into certain orbs, but in
the highest heaven it is dispersed into numberless globes,
so that in its highest region it seems to migrate, as it were,
into the pure empyreum. Meantime, that must not be for-
gotten, which we mentioned a little before, that nature is
accustomed to alternate fine gradations and distinct tran-
sits in her processes, so that the confines of the first com-
municate with the second, and of the second with the third.
For in the upper air, after the air has begun to be purified
from the effluvia of the earth, and refined by the vici-
nity of the heavenly bodies, flame searches out its way
and struggles into form; as we see in the lower kind of
comets, which are of an intermediate nature between the
steady and an evanescent sidereal nature. And again, the
part of heaven near the sun appears to grow stellescent,
and to pass into a starry essence. For those macule
which are discoverable, by a faithful and careful observa-
tion of the sun, are a sort of germ or rudiments of starry
matter; and in the heaven about Jupiter there are also
visible complete and perfect stars, though, from their mi-
nuteness, invisible without the help of telescopes. And
again, in the upper parts of the starry heaven, from num-

170 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

berless scintille in the ether between the fixed stars, (for
which other sufficiently unmeaning reasons are given), the
starry essence seems to be more diffused and spread out
continuously. But of these points we shall say more in
discussing those questions, which we presently propose to
consider, respecting the substance of the stars and the
interstellar ether. se what we now say relates only to
questions respecting the connexion of the system.

A fifth question remains concerning the distribution of
the parts of the system, or the order of the heavenly bodies.
And granting that there is not a system but only scattered
globes, or granting that there is a system the centre of
which is the sun, or even allowing the astronomers to go
in quest of some new system, still there remains equally
this inquiry: What planet is nearer or more distant from
any other planet? and in like manner what planet is at
a greater or less distance from the earth, or even from
the sun? Nowif the system of the ancients is admitted,
there seems no reason at we should attach great import-
ance to any new inquiry concerning the four higher hea-
vens, namely, those of the fixed stars, of Saturn, Jupiter,
and Mars. For their position and order are testified by the
suffrage of all antiquity, and by the absence of any contra-
dictory phenomenon ; their modes of revolving also, whence
is derived our principal evidence of the relative heights of
the heavenly bodies, are adapted to this structure, and no
where interfere with it. But as to the Sun, Venus, Mer-
cury, and the Moon, even on the principles of the old sys-
tem, there was some doubt among the ancients; and among
the moderns it is still a question, with respect to’ Venus
and Mercury, which planet is higher than the other? For
in favour of the superior height of Venus this reason offers
itself, that it moves somewhat more slowly; and of Mer-
cury, that it is fixed at a nearer distance from the sun,
whence one should naturally maintain that it ought to be
placed next the sun in height. But, as to the moon, no one
ever had any doubt that its place was next the earth,
though there was a difference of opinion with regard to its
approaches to the sun. Nor ought one question relating
to the arrangement of the system to escape a serious in-
quirer into the subject, which is this, whether the planets
alternately pass over and pass below one another? which
seems to be authenticated in the case of Venus by ela-
borate demonstrations of the fact that it is found sometimes
placed below the sun, sometimes above it. And doubtless

~

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. L745

also this is an apt question: whether the deflection of the
lower planet does not cut the orbit of the higher planet, and
enter within its periphery ?

There remains our last question concerning the colloca-
tion of parts in the system, that is, whether there be several
and different centres in the system, and several choral
bands, so to speak, moving around them; especially since
the earth is affirmed to be the centre of primary motion ;
sincethe sun (in the opinion of Tycho) is the centre of secon-
dary motion; and even Jupiter is made, by Galileo, the
centre of the inferior and lately discovered motion of certain
satellites.

These then are the questions which it seems fitting to
propose with respect to the celestial system: namely, whe-
ther there is a system, and what is its depth, what its con-
nexion, and what is the order of distributing its parts.
As to the outermost parts of heaven, and what has been
termed the empyrean heaven, we enter into no theories or
inquiries. Therefore what can be known of it can be
learned only from inference, not at all by induction. For
such inquisition, therefore, there will both be a fitting time,
and a specific plan and mode.

As respects the heaven of heavens and pure space, we
are bound entirely to stand by, and submit to, revelation.
For as to what has been said by the Platonic school, and
lately by Patricius, (in order, forsooth, to exalt themselves
to a diviner height in philosophy), and said not without
gross and visionary extravagance, the ravings, as it were,
of a disordered mind ;—in short, advanced with extreme
audacity and no result, like the acones and other dreams
of Valentine, these we regard as mere figments. For we
are not tamely to submit to the apotheosis of folly, like that
of the Emperor Claudius. It is worse than all other evils
—the very pestilence and death of intellect—to attach re-
verence to its chimeras.

~

172 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

CHAP. VII.

The following are Questions relating to the Substance of
the Heavenly Bodies; viz. What Species of Substance is
that of the Heavenly Bodies generally, compared to Sub-
lunary Bodies ;—the Substance of the interstellar Ether
compared to the Body of a Star ;—the Substance of the
Stars themselves compared to one another, and compared
to our Fire, and in its proper Essence ;—and what Species
of Substance is that of the Galaxy, and of the opake
Macule visible in the Antarctic Hemisphere? Then the
First Query is set forth, Whether there is a diversity of
Substance between Bodies celestial and sublunary, and in
what it consists ?

Havine finished our inquiries respecting the system, we
must now proceed to those which regard the substance, of
the heavenly bodies ; for it is the substance of the heavenly
bodies, and the courses of their motion, that philosophy
chiefly seeks to know. Astronomy investigates their real
motion itself and its properties—both astronomy and phi-
losophy their influence and effect.

' Care ought to be taken, however, accurately to distin-
ae between astronomy and philosophy: astronomy pre-
erring those hypotheses which are most convenient for
shortening the method of calculation; but philosophy
those which most approximate to the truth of nature :—-
further, that, on the one hand, the hypotheses of astro-
nomy do not in any way prejudge truth; and on the other,
the positions of philosophy be such as are perfectly tenable
upon the phenomena of astronomy. Whereas, on the con-
trary, the fact now is, that the figments of astronomy have
insinuated themselves into philosophy, and perverted it;
and the theories of philosophers about the heavenly bodies
are reconcileable only to themselves, and in a great measure
abandon astronomy, contemplating in general the system
of the heavens, but by no means accommodating them-
selves to particular phenomena and their causes. Thus
while either science, such as we now have them, is a thing
superficial and perfunctory, the foot must be planted more
vigorously by far on this foundation—that these two
sciences, which, by reason of the contracted speculations
of men, and the practice of academic teachers, have been

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 173

habitually disconnected for so many ages, are one and the
same thing, and concrete in one body of science.

Therefore we propose it as our first question, Whether
or not there is a diversity between the substance of the
heavenly bodies and that of this lower orb? For the pre-
mature and dogmatical doctrine of Aristotle has created
for us only an tmaginary heaven, formed of a certain fifth
essence without change and also without heat. And
waiving for the present any discussion respecting the four
elements which this quintessence takes for granted, it was
certainly a piece of great temerity to annihilate all affinity
between the elementary substances as they are called, and
the heavenly bodies; when two of the elements, namely
air and fire, agree so well with the star and the ether ; but
it was the custom of that great man to abuse his genius,
create work for himself, and prefer the obscure. Not, how-
ever, that there is any doubt that the regions situated ~
above and beneath the moon, along with the bodies com-
prehended within the same limits and space, differ in many
important particulars. Nor again is this more certain than
that in the bodies of each region there exist many tenden-
cies, affections, and motions common to both; so that,
preserving unbroken the unity of nature, we ought rather
to discriminate than to pluck them forcibly asunder. And
as regards one part of the supposed discrepancy, namely,
that the celestial bodies are imagined to be eternal, the
sublunary perishable, that doctrine seems to be a fallacy
either way, as neither that eternity which they fancy is
true of heaven, nor that mutability of earth. Indeed to
one who justly weighs the matter, a judgment ought by no
means to be formed from those things which are visible to
us, since none of the objects which meet the human eye
are dug or cast up from a greater depth than about three
miles at most, which is as nothing compared to the dia-
meter of the earth. Therefore nothing hinders that the
interior part of the earth may be endowed with a like eter-
nity to heaven itself. For if the earth were subject to
changes in its womb, it is impossible that the results of
those changes should not produce greater calamities on the
surface of it which we tread, than we see taking place.
For of those changes which present themselves conspicu-
ously to us here in the direction of the surface of the
earth, there is generally some visible and apparent cause
acting from above, such as tempests, rains, heat, and the
like; so that the earth of itself, and of its own virtue,

«

174 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

seems to furnish the cause of almost none of its changes.
If it is conceded, (which indeed is not improbable), that
the earth itself too, and not heavenly bodies only, acts
upon the fields of air, either by an efflux of cold, or by
emitting winds, or some other similar modes, still all that
variety is ascribed only to some portions of the earth in
immediate contact with the air itself, in which none will
deny there exists a multitude of changes and vicissitudes.
But it must be fully admitted that, of the phenomena of
the earth, earthquake enters the deepest by far into its
bowels; and, which are of the same class, gushes of
water, volcanoes, fissures and convulsions of the earth and
the like, which notwithstanding do not seem to rise from a
great depth, since most of them generally affect but a cer-
tain limited portion of the earth’s surface. In proportion
as an earthquake affects a larger space on the earth’s sur-
face, in the same proportion we are to infer that its roots
and source enter deep into the mass of the earth; and the
contrary, in proportion as it is less extensive. But if any
one should allege that there sometimes happen earthquakes
which shake large and extensive tracks of country,—no
doubt it is so. Yet these rarely occur, and are among the
number of the greater calamities of the species, and may
therefore be compared to the higher order of comets, which
are also of rare occurrence. Bor we do not now discuss
whether eternity absolutely may be affirmed of the earth,
but would make it appear, as we stated at the commence-
ment, that with reference to constancy and mutation there
is no great difference between heaven and earth. We do
not consider it worth while to contend for the eternity of
the earth from the modes of its motion. For it were
superfluous to argue eternity from the properties of motion,
since, if a circular motion is without a limit, so is rest: eter-
nity may equally be predicable of the coherency of com-
pact and large masses of homogeneous substance, as of the
rotation of rarer bodies; the parts detached from either
flying off in right lines.

This also may be assumed in reasoning upon the point,
that the internal parts of the earth are not more exposed
to decay than heaven itself; because something generally
perishes of that body wherein something can be repaired.
Now when showers, and substances which are precipitated
from the air, and which renew the upper surface of the
earth, in no way find a passage into the interior parts of
the earth, which nevertheless remain fixed by their own

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 175

gravity and magnitude, it follows of necessity that nothing
is substracted, since there is nothing added to succeed it.
Finally, that changeableness which we discover in the
outmost portion of the earth seems itself to be only acci-
dental. For that slight crust of the earth, which appears
only to dip a few miles downwards, (within which limits
are contained those admirable laboratories and workshops
of plants and minerals), would by no means afford so
great a variety, much less of such beautiful and high-
wrought productions, unless that part of the earth was
exposed to action, and ceaseless vellication, from the bodies
above. Now if any one think that the warmth and action
of the sun and heavenly bodies can transverberate the
thickness of the whole earth, such a man may be justly
regarded as a superstitious and phrenetic dreamer, since it
is clearly seen with how small an impediment they may be
refracted and kept out. Thus far of the indissolubility of
the earth. Let us now inquire of the changeableness of the’
heavenly bodies.

First then, we are not to use this mode of reasoning,
namely, that mutations do not take place in heaven, be-
cause they do not come within our own observation. For
remoteness of distance, excess or want of light, and fine-
ness or minuteness of substance, equally baffle vision :
thus, if the eye were placed in the orb of the moon, it
could not discern those changes which take place amongst
us here on the surface of the earth, such as inundations,
earthquakes, structures, or huge masses, which at so great
a distance are not equal to the size of a gnat.

Nor should any one from the circumstance of the inter-
stellar air of heaven being transparent, and the stars on a
clear night appearing of the same number and form, pro-
nounce too readily, that the entire body of the ether is
diaphanous, firm, and immutable. For the atmosphere
itself is subject to endless varieties of heat, cold, scents,
and every sort of amalgamation with subtler vapours, yet
does not therefore lose its pellucid quality: so in like
manner we are not to trust to that feature and aspect of
heaven. For if those huge masses of clouds which occa-
sionally cover the heavens, and take from our sight the
sun and stars, on account of their nearness to our point of
vision, were suspended in the upper part of the atmos-
phere, they would by no means change the appearance
of a serene sky: for neither could they be seen themselves
on account of the distance, nor cause any obscuration of

176 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

the stars, on account of the smallness of their size, com-
pared to the magnitude of the stars. Besides the body of
the moon itself, except in the part in which it receives
light, does not alter the appearance of the sky, so that
were that light annihilated, so large a body would entirely
escape our view. But, on the contrary, it is clearly appa-
rent from those bulky bodies, which by their mass and
magnitude overcome the effect of distance, and on account
of their luminous or sparkling substance forcibly strike
our view, that surprising changes and anomalies happen in
the heaven. And that is perceived in the higher order of
comets, | mean those which assume the appearance of a
star without the coma, and which are not only proved by
the doctrine of parallaxes to be placed above the moon,
but bear a certain and unchangeable relation of position to
the fixed stars, and retain their stations without being
erratic ; of such our age has seen more than one, first in
Cassiopea, and afterwards not long ago in Ophiuchus.
And as to this kind of regularity, which is seen in such
comets arising from their following the motion of some
star (which was the opinion of Aristotle, who asserted that
there was a like relation of a comet to the motion of a par-
ticular star, and of the galaxy to that of the stars col-
lectively, both positions being false), that has now been
long exploded, not without a stigma on the genius of Aris-
totle, who in his airy speculations had the presumption to
invent such things. Nor in fact does this change in the
heavenly bodies with respect to such new stars, obtain only
in those stars which appear to be of a vanishing nature,
but also of those which remain in their place. For in
the instance of the new star of Hipparchus, of the ap-
pearance of which mention is made among the ancients,
there is none made of its disappearance; a new star has
lately become visible in the breast of Cygnus, which has
now continued for twelve entire years, exceeding the dura-
tion of a comet, which it has been held to be, by a consider-
able period, and not yet lessened in disk, or threatening to
disappear. Nor again, is it properly and invariably true,
that the old stars are not subject to change, but only the
stars of later Epiphany, in which it is not to be wondered
if change takes place, since their very production and
commencement is not immemorial. For passing over that
fable of the Arcadians with respect to the first appearance
of the moon, in which they boast that they are of greater
antiquity than that planet, there are not wanting in history

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 177

sufficiently authenticated facts on the subject, as when
the sun three several times,—without the occurrence of an
eclipse, or the intervention of clouds, appeared in a clear
and serene sky, changed in appearance for many days,
and yet not affected in the same way each time, being
once of slender light, and twice of a ferruginous colour.
For these phenomena took place in the year 790, during
seventeen days, and in the time of Justinian during half a
year; and after the death of Julius Cesar, during several
days. To that obscuration we have still extant that noted
testimony in Virgil :—

Tlle etiam extincto miseratus Cesare Romam

Cum caput obscura nitidum ferrugine texit,

Impiaque eternam timuerunt secula noctem.
And the statement of Varro, a most skilful antiquarian, to
be found in Augustine respecting the planet Venus, to this
effect, that in the reign of Ogyges it changed its colour,
size, and figure, might well have been doubted, had not a
similar fact occurred again, signalised by much observa-
tion in our own days, in the year 1578. For then, too,
during a whole year, a memorable change took place in
the planet Venus, which was seen of unusual size and
brilliancy, exceeding in redness even the planet Mars, and
more than once changed its figure, becoming sometimes
triangular, sometimes square, and sometimes circular, so
that even its very body and substance seemed to be affected.
Again, that star among the old stars, placed in the hip
of Canicula, which Aristotle says he himself saw, having
some coma, which he particularly noted, vibrating when
he looked at it intently, appears to be since then changed
and to be divested of its hair, since no trace of that appear-
ance is found on it in our day. Add to these facts that
many alterations of the celestial bodies, particularly of the
smaller, from neglecting to make observations, easily escape
notice, and are lost to us. Now it will readily occur to a
sciolist to ascribe such appearances to exhalations and the
constitution of the medium of vision ; but these alterations,
which are found to affect such a body continuously and
equally for a considerable time, and to accompany it in its
revolutions, ought to be placed altogether to the account
of the star itself, or at least something in the ether con-
tiguous to it, not in the lower tracks ef the air; of which
we may assume this as a strong argument, that such changes
rarely occur, and at long distances of years, but those
which take place in the atmosphere by the interposition

VOL, XV. N

178 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

of vapours more frequently. And if any one forms a judg-
ment from the regularity of the heavenly bodies, and the
equability of the motion itself, that the heaven is immutable,
and should set down the exactness of their periods and re-
newals as a distinct mark of their eternity,—seeing con-
stancy of motion seems scarcely compatible with a perish-
able substance,—he ought to advert a little more attentively
to this, that such a periodical. reappearance, as if in a
cycle, at stated intervals, may be even found among our-
selves in several things, particularly in the tides of the
ocean ; besides, smaller variations which may obtain among
the heavenly bodies, their dates and renewals, escape our
vision, and baffle our calculations. Nor ought the revolu-
tion of the heavenly bodies in a circle to be taken as a
better proof of their eternity, because, forsooth, there is no
end to impulsion in a circle, and an immortality of motion
is agreeable to an immortality of substance. For even the
secondary comets, which have their place lower than the
moon, perform revolutions, and that from a property of
their own; unless we are to give credit to the figment of
their being attached to stars. For if we will argue the
eternity of the heavenly bodies from their circular motion,
that ought to be referred to the entire system of the heavens,
not to its parts; for the gaa aie the sea, and the land,
are eternal in the totality, perishable in the parts. Besides,
on the contrary, we ought not to presume the motion of
the heavenly bodies from their revolving motion, because
that very motion is not a perfect one, nor renewing itself
absolutely in an exact and pure circle, but with declina-
tions, eccentricities, and ellipses. Moreover, if any one
should retort upon us the observation we made respecting
the earth, in stating that those changes which occurred in
it were accidental not substantial, and arose from the ac-
tion upon it of the heavenly bodies, and should assert that
the relation of heaven is directly contrary, since the heaven
can in no way be reciprocally influenced by the earth, and
any efflux from the earth falls short of the sphere of the
heavenly bodies; so that it is probable that heaven, placed
aloof from all action adverse to its durability, is susceptible
of eternity of duration, since it is not at all agitated or in-
fringed upon by an antagonist substance; this seems an
objection not to be despised. For we are not likely per-
sons to defer to the childish notion of Thales, who con-
ceived that the heavenly bodies absorbed the exhalations
raised by the earth and sea, and were therewith fed

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 179

and repaired ; (since these exhalations generally fall in a
like quantity as they have mounted, and are by no means
enough to refresh both the earth and the spheres of heaven,
nor by possibility extend to such a height); yet notwith-_
standing, though the gross evaporations of the earth stop
far short of heaven, if the earth be the “ primum frigi-
dum” (principle of cold), according to the doctrine of
Parmenides and Telesius, it would not be easy or safe for
any one to affirm to what height this force, the antago-
nist and rival of that of heaven, penetrates by a gradual
and successive approximation; especially as these sub-
stances imbibe and propagate to a great distance the na-
ture and effects of heat and cold. Yet granting that
heaven is not affected by earth, that is no objection why
the heavenly bodies should not mutually suffer action and
change one from another; the sun for instance from the
stars, the stars from the sun, the planets from both, all
from the interposed ether, particularly that circumambient
to the several spheres. Besides, the opinion of the eternity
of heaven appears to have derived great force from that
mechanism and fabric of heaven, which the astronomers
have busied themselves to very little purpose to invent.
For they seem to have taken infinite trouble to guard
against the opinion that the heavenly bodies suffer any
influence but the effect of mere rotation, being in other
respects unchangeable and imperturbable. They have
therefore nailed up, as it were, the stars in their orbits.
And in their several deflections, elevations, depressions,
and windings, they have detected as many perfect circles
of the just diameter, elaborately paring and smoothing
both the convex and concave side of these circles, so that
there is found in them no projection or abruptness; but
the one being received within the other, and, by reason of
its smoothness of curve, placed in exactly the proper con-
tiguity, yet so as to slide easily into one, move serenely
and kindly; which immortal system of impulses easily
precludes all agitation and disturbance, the precursors of
dissolution. For, doubtless, if bodies so great as are the
starry orbs while cutting the ether, do not always con-
tinually describe the same paths in its expanse, but pass
through regions and tracks far removed from one another,
sometimes ascending the upper fields of space, sometimes
descending towards the earth, sometimes directing them-
selves to the south, sometimes to the north, there is immi-
nent danger that numerous impressions, shocks, reactions,

180 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

and recoils, should take place in these bodies, and that
from these should arise the condensations and rarefae-
tions of substance which prognosticate and breed produc-
tions and alterations. But since from physical considera-
tions, and, moreover, from the phenomena themselves, it
will hold that this latter position is the truth, and that the
former fictions of astronomers, if any one looks at them
soberly, in reality mock nature, and are found empty of
facts: it is consistent that the notion,—their concomitant,
—of the eternity of the heavenly bodies, should incur the
same censure. And if any one should make religion an
objection, we would have him thus answered ; that it was
the boast of the heathens to attach eternity only to the
heaven and the sun, but that sacred scripture ascribes it
equally to heaven and earth. For there we read not only
that “the sun and the moon bear faithful witness in
heaven ;” but that all “generations come and pass away,
but the earth remaineth for ever.” And we find the fleet-
ing and perishable nature of both coupled in one and the
same oracle; “heaven and earth shall pass away, but my
word shall not pass away.” Then if any should insist,
that nevertheless it cannot be denied, but that on the sur-
face of the earth, and the contiguous parts, innumerable
changes take place,—not in heaven; we meet the objection
thus: that we do not make them equal in all respects ; and
yet, if we take the upper and lower regions of the air, as
they are called, to be the surface or exterior coat of heaven ;
even as we regard that space among ourselves, within
which animals, plants, and minerals are contained, as the
surface or outer garment of earth, there too we find nume-
rous and manifold productions. Wherefore it seems as if
all collision and disturbance took place only on the frontiers
of heaven and earth, as is frequently the case in matters
civil, when the inland provinces of two neighbouring coun-
tries enjoy continued peace, and are only thrown into com-
motion by the more rare and formidable kinds of war.

And with respect to that other part of the supposed
heterogeny of the heavenly bodies, as maintained by Aris-
totle, that they are not subject to heat, lest perchance the
conflagration dreaded by Heraclitus might be the result,
but that they are warmed, per accidens, by the friction and
diverberation of the air; we do not understand what this
straggler from experience means, contradicting too, as he
does, the sense of antiquity on the subject. But it is no-
thing wonderful to find that man* divorcing any given sub-

* Aristotle.

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 181

ject from experience, and presently turning away in a sort
of scorn from nature,—at once pusillanimous and audacious.
Of that however we shall presently speak, when we come
to the question, “ whether the stars are real fires,” and more
largely and correctly in our counsels respecting the History
of Virtues, where we shall discourse of the sources, and
cradles of heat and cold, as yet unknown to and untouched
by man. Thus we have stated the question with respect
to the heterogeny of the heavenly bodies. For though,
perhaps, the case demands that we should condemn, with-
out postponing the conviction, the doctrine of Aristotle, it
is not consistent with our purpose.

Another question proposed was, what that substance
is contained in the interstellar spaces? These are either a
void as Gilbertus conceived; or filled with a substance,
which is to the stars what air is to flame, the hypothesis
most closely approaching the experience of our senses; or
filled with a substance essentially the same with that of
the stars themselves, luminous, and to a certain degree em-
pyrean, but of a secondary order, being of a light not so
brilliant and coruscating, which seems to be meant by the
received opinion that a star is the denser part of its own
sphere. For there can be no objection to conceiving it a
bright transparent medium, for conveying stronger light.
Telesius has acutely observed, that common air contains
within itself a certain quantity of light, using this argu-
ment, that there are certain animals which see by night,
whose visual organs are adapted to receive and kindly
entertain this weak sort of light. For it is a less credible
supposition that a visual act takes place without any light,
or from the internal illuminating power of the spirit. And
even flame itself is seen diaphanous, to such a degree as
to give out the form of opaque substances, as is seen in
the wick of candles, much more to be the vehicle for the
form of more intense light. For the flame of tallow or
wax is more lustrous, and, if we may use the expression,
more igneous; but the flame of spirits of wine is more
opaque, and as it were more aeriform, so that the flame is
not inspissated. And I also made an experiment on this
subject, which was done by taking a wax candle and
raising it in a sconce, (using a metal one for the purpose of
protecting the body of the candle from the flame, which
was to be circumfused), and placing the sconce in a goblet
in which was a small quantity of spirits of wine, and first
lighting the candle, and then igniting the spirits of wine ;

182 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

when you might clearly see the radiating and white light
of the candle in the midst of the flame of the spirits of
wine, which was weak, and approaching to a mere pellucid
medium. And in like manner there are often seen in
the heavens luminous belts, affording a distinctly visible
light of their own, vividly illuminating the darkness of
the night, through the Tebuianes of which, however, the
stars are plainly discernible. And that difference between
a star, and the interstellar air is not justly described by
the terms rare and dense, that is by the star being denser,
the ether rarer. For generally here among us flame is
a body subtler than the air, I mean more expanded, and
having in it less matter for the space it occupies, which
may probably obtain also in the heavenly bodies. It is
a gross mistake, if they really suppose the star to be a
part of a sphere in which it is fastened, as it were, by a
nail, and the ether a vehicle in which it is carried. For
either the body of the star cuts the ether, or the ether
itself is carried round in the same rotation. This notion,
then, is a mere invention, like that fabric of orbs upon
orbs which they describe. For if they revolve otherwise
than simultaneously, it is still necessary that the star cut
the ether. For that supposed arrangement of adjacent
orb, so that the concave of the outer falls in with the
convex of the interior orbit, yet ou account of the curve
of both, the one does not interfere with the other in its
revolutions, though differing from its own, has no founda-
tion in fact; since the body of the ether is unbroken, just
as that of the air is: and yet because of the great varieties
found in each, their various regions are most properly dis-
criminated for the purpose of instruction. Wherefore the
sixth question, according to this our explanation of it, is a
fit subject for inquiry.

Then follows another question, and not an easy one, with
respect to the substance of the stars themselves. We first
inquire whether there be other globes or masses of solid
and impacted matter besides the earth itself? For the
theory is proposed without any extravagance, in our trea-
tise De Facie in Orbe Lune, that it is not probable, that in
the distribution of matter, nature had bound up whatever
solid matter there was in the globe of the earth, since there
is such a host of other orbs of a sublimated and expanded
matter. And Gilbertus carried this theory so extra-
vagantly far, (in which however he had several precursors,
or rather guides among the ancients), as to assert not only

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 183

that the earth, but various other globes, solid and opaque,
were dispersed through the expanse of heaven among the
luminous globes. And his opinion did not stop here, but
he thought that the latter, namely, the sun, and the most
resplendent and brightest stars were composed of a certain
solid and, though more shining, equilibrate matter; con-
founding primitive light with the matter of light, which is
supposed to be its image, (for he thought our sea too
darted forth light to a certain measureable distance); but
Gilbertus admitted the existence of no conglobation, except
of crass matter, of which the finer and thinner substances,
its envelope, are only effluvia, and lost parts, and to
them succeeds a vacuum. Yet the idea respecting the
moon, that it is of solid matter, might strike the most
accurate and sober-minded inquirer into nature. For it is
a refractor, not a vehicle of light, and is, so to speak, devoid
of light of its own, and full of vicissitude, all which are
properties of solid bodies. For we see the ether itself, and
the atmosphere, which are thin bodies, receive, but by no
means reverberate the light of the sun, which the moon does.
For such is the force of the sun’s rays as to traverse and
pierce through clouds of the greatest density, which are of
aqueous matter, but through the moon never. But in
certain eclipses of the moon there is still visible a light,
though an obscure one, in the new and full moon, none,
except of the part illuminated by the sun. Moreover foul
and feculent flames, of which kind of substance Empe-
docles supposed the moon to consist, are no doubt subject
to change, but thin inequalities are not fixed in a part, but
generally moving. Whereas the spots in the moon are
thought to be stationary. To this we add that those spots
are discovered by the telescope to have their partial minute
inequalities, so that we now find a variety of figures in the
moon; and that Selenography, a map of the moon pro-
jected by Gilbertus, we have lived to see executed by the
labours of Galileo and others. And if we can suppose the
moon composed of some solid substance analogous to earth,
or a sort of sediment of heaven, (for some such notions
have been mooted), we must consider again, whether it be
in this respect solitary. For, in the conjunction of Mercury
with the sun, there is sometimes visible a spot or partial
eclipse. But those dusky spots which are discovered in the
Antarctic hemisphere, and are fixed in position, the same as
the galaxy, inspire still greater doubts as to opaque orbs,
even in the higher regions of the heavens. For in respect

184 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

that it is alleged as the cause of such appearances, that the
heaven is in those places thin, and, so to speak, porous, that
is less probable, because a visible diminution and loss of
substance could by no means strike our senses from so
great a distance, since the rest also of the body of the ether
is invisible, and not discernible, except by a comparison
with the bodies of the stars. It were perhaps a more pro-
bable conjecture to consider them as dark spaces occa-
sioned by want of light; because in that part of heaven
there are found fewer stars, just as they are found
thicker about the galaxy, so that the one place presents
a continuity of light, the other of shade. | For in the
Antarctic SC giare the heavenly fires appear to be
more distinctly presented than in ours, there being larger
stars, though fewer, and wider interstellar spaces. The
statements, too, with respect to these spots are scarcely
worthy of entire credit, at least no such great pains have
been taken in observing, as to authorise us as yet to infer
consequences from the observations made. What more
affects the present question is, that there may be opaque
globes dispersed through ether, which to us are quite im-
perceptible. For the moon, also, in its first quarter, so far
as it is irradiated by the sun, is indeed visible,—in its horns,
that is, and the thin rim its circular outline,—but, at full, not
at all,—being lost in the general aspect of the rest of ether:
and those small wandering satellites discovered by Galileo,
if we are to believe the account about Jupiter, are drowned
to our view in the ocean of ether like small and indiscer-
nible islands; and so those small stars, the combination of
which forms the milky way, were they placed dispersedly,
each by itself, and not grouped into a body, would cer-
tainly escape our vision, even as many others do, which
sparkle out on clear nights, particularly during winter; so
too the nebulous stars, or perforations in the crz6 are now,
by the telescope, distinctly counted ; and with the help of
the same instrument a certain obscuration of spots, shade,
and irregularity is visible in the fountain of light itself, I
mean the sun. And if nothing else did, assuredly that
gradation in respect of light, descending and reaching from
the most brilliant bodies to the most dim and dark, leads
to the inference and belief that there are orbs wholly opaque.
For there seem to be fewer degrees of approximation be-
tween a nebulous and opaque, than between a bright and
a nebulous star. Again, man’s vision is manifestly cheated
and confined. For whatever lies dispersed in the heaven,

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 185

and has not a conspicuous magnitude, and an intense,
strong light, escapes the eye, and makes no difference in
the face of heaven. Nor let it strike doubt into the mind
of any less informed inquirer, if the question suggests it-
self, whether globes of consolidated matter can remain pen-
sile? For the earth itself floats pensile in the midst of its
circumambient air, the softest of substances, and huge
volumes of watery clouds and magazines of hail are long
suspended in the fields of air, and are rather precipitated
than spontaneously descend, before they begin to be attected
by the earth’s contiguity. Wherefore Gilbertus has very
well noted that heavy bodies, when carried to long distances
from the earth, are gradually divested of their motion to-
wards the objects beneath, arising from no other propen-
sion of bodies, than that of uniting and conglomerating to
the earth (which is a collection of homogeneous substances),
and of which the influence terminates with its own sphere.
For as to what is asserted of a motion to the earth’s centre,
that would be a sort of potent nothing dragging to itself
such large masses; whereas body cannot be affected except
by body. Wherefore let this inquiry concerning solid and
opaque globes, although it appearnew, and to common appre-
hension difficult, be entertained ; and let another be asso-
ciated with it, the old and undecided one, which of the
stars give forth a light original and from themselves, and
which from the illumination of the sun; the one class ap-
pearing to be connatural to the sun, and the other to the
moon.

Finally, we understand all investigation concerning the
difference of substance among the stars relatively to one
another, a multifarious subject, as it seems,—since some
are red, some leaden, some white, some manifestly always
brillant, others nebulous,—to refer to our seventh query.
It is another question, whether the stars are real fires,
which question notwithstanding requires a degree of con-
sideration rightly to comprehend it. For it is one thing to
say, that the stars are real fires, and another that the stars,
supposing them to be real fires, exercise all the properties
and ‘perform all the effects of common fire. Not that we
are, therefore, to have recourse to the idea of an abstract
and imaginary fire retaining the name of fire, but rejecting
its properties. “ For our fire, if placed in ether in such a
quantity, as the quantity composing a star, would perform
different operations from those which are observed on
earth; since things acquire far different properties, both

186 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

from their quantity, and their position or collocation. For
the bulkier masses, that is the homogeneous bodies, which
are combined in a body of such quantity as to have analogy
to the whole of the universe, acquire cosmical properties,
which are no where found in their parts. For the ocean,
which is the greatest collection of water, ebbs and flows,
but marshes and lakes not at all. So in like manner the
whole earth remains pendent, a portion of the earth falls.
And the position of a body is of great importance, both in
its bulkier and smaller portions, on account of the proximity
or contiguity of bodies friendly and hostile. Much more,
then, must a diversity of action obtain between our fire and
that of the stars, because it differs from it not only in the
quantity and composition, but also in some degree in sub-
stance. For the fire of the stars is pure, uncompounded,
and native: whereas ours is degenerate, crippled by its fall
like Vulcan precipitated to earth. For if one observe it,
we have fire among us as if out of its place, flickering, sur-
rounded with its contraries, poor, and, as it were, begging
the alms of nourishment to preserve it, and hastening to
disappear. But in heaven fire exists in its true state, dis-
severed from the encroachment of its contrary, and per-
forming freely, and without disturbance, its appropriate
actions. Therefore it was not at all necessary for Patricius,
in order to save the pyramidal form of dons as found
among us, to insinuate that the higher part of a star might
be pyramidal, though the other part, which is visible to us,
be slopalae For the pyramidal form of fire is incidental
to it from the pressure and confinement of the air. There-
fore, in flame, the base is fuller, the apex ee but in
smoke the lower part narrow, the top broadened, and like
an inverted pyramid: because air expands to smoke, but
compresses fire. It is, therefore, consistent that flame
among us should be pyramidal, in heaven globose. In like
manner flame among us is a shortlived body, in ether steady
and lasting. But even among us flame would remain and
subsist in its own form, were it not destroyed by the sur-
rounding substances, which is very apparent in the larger
sort of flames. For every portion of flame placed in the
midst of flame perishes not, but remains unextinguished,
the same in quantity, and rapidly ascending heavenwards ;
but on the sides the pressure takes effect, and from them
begins the process of extinction. One way of demonstrat-
ing this fact, I mean the interior flame remaining in a
spherical figure, and the exterior gradually vanishing and

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 187

forming a pyramid, is by an experiment of two flames of
different colours. There may also be very great difference
between the heat of flame in the heavenly bodies and in
ours. For the celestial flame expands freely and serenely,
as if in its own medium, ours, as if pent up in another,
blazes and rages. For all fire hedged about and impri-
soned becomes fiercer. In fact the rays of the fires of
heaven themselves, after reaching denser and more impene-
trable bodies, lose their mild quality and become more
scorching. Wherefore Aristotle ought not to have appre-
hended Heraclitus’s conflagration for his sphere, even al-
though he had determined that the stars were real fires.
This question then may also be entertained subject to this
explanation.

Another question follows, Whether the stars are kept
alive by due sustentation? and also, whether they are in-
creased, lessened, generated, extinguished? and in fact
one of the ancients supposed, from some vulgar observa-
tion, that the stars were nourished as fire is, and fed upon
the waters, the sea, and the moisture of the earth, and were
sustained by their evaporations and exhalations, a notion
which seems unworthy to supply matter for any inquiry.
For such vapours fall far on this side the height of the
stars. Nor is there such a quantity of them.as to supply
the waters and the land by rains and dews, and besides
suffice for repairing so many and so great heavenly orbs,
especially as it is evident that the earth and ocean have
not suffered diminution in the quantity of liquid for man
ages, so that it seems a necessary conclusion that as dita
is replaced as is absorbed. Nor is the mode of supply so suit-
able for the heavenly bodies as it is for our fire. For where
something perishes and is subtracted, there too something
is taken up and assimilated. This species of assimila-
tion resembles the tartarizations of salts, and derives its
source from the contiguity all round it of opposite or dissi-
milar substances. But in the consubstantial and interior
body of the stars nothing of the kind happens, no more
than in the bowels of the earth, but they preserve their
substance by the law of identity, not assimilation. But
with respect to the exterior surface of the starry bodies the
question is properly enough proposed ; whether they re-
main in one and the same state, or steal from and even
taint the surrounding ether? And in this sense we may
inquire also respecting the aliment of the stars.

ut it is proper here to subjoin the question with respect

188 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

to the increase and lessening of the stars as bodies, thotgh
the phenomena which may occasion uncertainty on the
subject are very few.

For first of all, no instance, or any analogous facts in
human experience favour the inquiry; since our globe of
earth and water does not seem subject in its mass to-any
conspicuous augmentation or diminution, but preserves its
bulk and quantity. But, it may be said, the stars appear
to our view sometimes of larger, sometimes of smaller size.
This is true, but that larger or smaller dimension of a star
is ascribable either to its proximity or remoteness; or in their
apogees and perigees, in the case of the planets; or to the
constitution of the medium of vision. So far as this arises
from the constitution of the medium, it is easily discrimi-
nated, because that changes not the appearance of one star
in particular, but ofall equally: as happens on winter nights
in a keen frost, when the stars appear of increased magni-
tude, because the vapours of the earth both mount in less
quantity and are dissipated more powerfully, and the whole
body of the atmosphere is to a certain degree condensed,
and approaches an aqueous or chrystalline character, which
exhibits objects in increased dimension. But if it were
some particular intervention of vapours between our vision
and some given star, magnifying the appearance of the
star (which we frequently and plainly see happening in the
case of the sun, and moon, and other heavenly bodies),
that appearance can neither impose upon us in itself, nor
does the star follow and move with the body of the vapour,
but is quickly extricated from it, and resumes its usual
appearance. But though these things are so, yet since
both formerly, in ancient times, and now also in our own
age, a great change, much noted and celebrated, has taken
place in the star Venus, in its magnitude, colour, and even
figure; and since a change which always and regularly
attends a given star, and is seen to move about with its
body, ought to be considered as necessarily existing in the
star itself, and not in the medium of vision; and since,
in consequence of the neglect of observations, many re-
markable phenomena, which take place in heaven are passed
by unheeded, and are lost to us :—we think it right to enter-
tain this second branch of our question.

Of the same kind is another part of our inquiry, whether,
during the long lapse of ages, stars are produced and de-
composed ? not but that the multitude of facts which invite
this question is more copious and sufficient, than on that

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 189

of their increase, though they be only of one kind. For as
respects the ancient stars, no one in the memory of all ages
has remarked the rise of any of them (except what the
ancient Arcadians fabled about the moon), and none of
them has been missed: whereas, with respect to those
which are regarded as comets, but of a stellar form and
motion, and in fact as new stars, we have both witnessed,
and learned from the ancients, their appearances, and dis-
appearances: while to some they seemed, in the latter, to
waste away; to others, to be taken up (as if they had de-
scended towards us in their circuits, and afterwards returned
to the higher regions); to others, to be gradually rarified
and dissipated in ether. But the whole of our inquiry
respecting the new stars we refer to that place in which
we speak of comets.

Another question remains, that with respect to the ga-
laxy, whether the galaxy be a collection of the smallest of
the stars, or a combined body and region of the ether of
an intermediate substance between that of the ether and
the stars. For that theory about exhalations has itself
now long exhaled, not without fixing a brand on Aristotle’s
genius, who had the audacity to put forth such a figment,
fastening upon a thing so invariable and fixed an evanes-
cent and fluctuating character. But an end of this ques-
tion as proposed by us seems to be easily attainable, if we
are to give credit to the accounts of Galileo, who has ar-
ranged that confused luminous appearance into numbered
and mapped constellations. For that the galaxy does not
prevent the visibility of those stars which are found within
its limits, is not enough to settle the question, nor to incline
the matter either way. It only refutes, perhaps, the notion
that the galaxy is placed lower than the part of ether con-
taining the stars; for if this were the case, and the conti-
nuous body had also some depth of itself, it is consistent
with reason to suppose that our vision would be prevented.
And if it were placed at the same altitude as the stars
which are visible in it, there is no reason why stars should
not be scattered about in the galaxy itself, not less than in
the rest of the ether. Thus we have treated of this ques-
tion. These six questions then refer to the substance of
the heavenly bodies; what, namely, is the substance of
heaven in general, what of the interstellar air, what of the
galaxy, and what of the stars themselves, whether com-
pared with one another, or with our fire, or with their own
essence ?

190 ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY.

But with respect to the number, magnitude, configura-
tion, and remoteness of the stars, with the exception of the
phenomena and _ historical inquiries, of which we shall
speak by and by, the problems which philosophy offers are
Gecalty simple. With la to their number, too, there
ollows another question: whether that be the true number
of the stars which is visible, and which has been set down
and described by the labours of Hipparchus, and comprised
within the plan of the celestial globe. For it is but a barren
reason which is assigned for the incalculable number of
stars, usually hid, and as it were imperceptible, which arecom-
monly seen in winter, particularly in clear nights, namely,
that these appearances are not smaller stars, but emanations,
scintille, and as it were darts emitted by known stars;
besides, there has been a new enumeration of the host of
heaven by Galileo, not only in that cohort which is dis-
tinguished by the name of the milky way, but also amidst
the stations and system of the planets. Now stars become
imperceptible either on account of the minuteness of their
size, or their opacity (the term tenuity we do not much
approve of, since pure flame is a body of the most subtle
tenuity), or on account of their remoteness and distance.
The question with respect to the superflux of stars, created
by the production of new ones, we refer to the part which
treats of comets.

As regards the magnitude of the stars, the visible mag-
nitude belongs to the general phenomena, the real to the
philosophical inquiry comprehended only in our twelfth
problem: What are the real dimensions of each star,
either discovered by measurement, or, if not, by compari-
son? for it is easier to discover and demonstrate that the
globe of the moon is less than the globe of earth, than that
the globe of the moon is a mile round. We must then use
all trial and exertion to ascertain their exact dimensions ;
if these cannot be had, we must make use of their com-
parative.

Now the magnitudes of the stars are either taken and
inferred from their eclipses and obscurations, or from the
bounds to which they extend their light, and the other
properties which each of these bodies, in proportion to
their magnitude, emit and propagate; or, lastly, by the
harmony of the universe, which confines and limits, by a
certain necessity, the parts of the homogeneous bodies.
For we must not rest upon the accounts given by astrono-
mers of the bare magnitude of the stars, (though they have

ASTRONOMICAL HISTORY. 19]

laboured in that attempt, seemingly with great and exact
minuteness, yet in reality with no little license and teme-
rity); but must seek, if any present themselves, proofs and
evidence more to be trusted to and more genuine. Now
the magnitude and distance of the stars reciprocally indi-
cate each other by the methods of optics: the roots of
which scienee, however, ought to be a little shaken.

The question of the true magnitude of the stars is the
twelfth in our enumeration: there follows another respect-
ing the form, whether they be globes, that is, masses of
matter of a solid round figure? Now there are apparently

__ three figures of the stars ; spherical and comose as the sun ;

“spherical and angular, as the stars, (the coma and angles
relate here only to aspect, the spherical form only to sub-
stance); spherical only, as the moon. For no star looks
oblong, or triangular, or square, or of any other figure than
the above. And it appears to be the order of nature that
the larger accumulations of things, for their own preserva-
tion and a truer union of parts, impact themselves into
globes.

The fourteenth question relates to distance: What is
the true distance of any star in the abyss of heaven? For
the distances of the planets, both relatively to one another
and to the fixed stars, are consequent upon, or determined
by, their motions in the path they describe through the
heavens. But as we have said above concerning the mag-
nitude of the stars, if an exact and directly measured mag-
nitude cannot be had, we must have recourse to their com-
parative magnitudes:—we give the same precept as to
their distance, that if the distance cannot be accuratel
taken, (for instance, from the earth to Saturn and to Jupi-
ter), yet let it be set down at least as certain, that Saturn
is of greater altitude than Jupiter. For the system of the
heavens interiorly, that is, the common arrangement of the
planets with reference to their heights, is not unchallenged,
nor were the opinions that now obtain formerly believed.
There is even now a controversy respecting Mercury and
Venus, which of them is higher. The distances are found
either by their parallaxes, or their eclipses, or their modes
of motion, or the differences of their visible magnitude.
Other helps must also be obtained for this inquiry, which
man’s industry will suggest. The question, also, with re-
gard to the thickness or depth of the spheres, is connected
with these distances.

W,.;G.

192

OF THE EBB AND FLOW OF THE SEA.

THE investigation of the causes of the ebb and flow of the
sea, attempted by the ancients and then neglected, resumed
by the moderns, but rather frittered away than vigorously
agitated in a variety of opinions, is generally with a hasty
anticipation, directed to the moon, because of certain cor-
respondences between that motion, and the motion of that
orb. But toa careful inquirer certain traces of the truth
are apparent, which may lead to surer conclusions. Where-
fore, to proceed without confusion, we must. first dis-
tinguish the motions of the sea, which, though thought-
lessly enough multiplied by some, are in reality found to
be only five; of these one alone is eccentric, the rest
regular. We may mention first the wandering and various
motions of what are called currents: the second is the .
great six-hours motion of the sea, by which the waters
alternately advance to the shore, and retire twice a day,
not with exact precision, but with a variation, constituting
monthly periods. The third is the monthly motion itself,
which is nothing but a cycle of the diurnal motion periodi-
cally recurring: the fourth is the half monthly motion,
formed by the increase of the tides at new and full moon,
more than at half moon: the fifth is the motion, once in
six months, by which, at the equinoxes, the tides are in-
creased in a more marked and signal manner.

It is the second, the great six-hours or diurnal motion,
which we propose for the present as the principal subject
and aim of our discourse, treating of the others only in-
cidentally and so far as they contribute to the explanation
of that motion.

First then, as relates to the motion of currents, there is
no doubt that to form it the waters are either confined by
narrow passages, or liberated by open spaces, or hasten as
with relaxed rein, down declivities, or rush against and
ascend elevations, or glide along a smooth level bottom, or
are ruffled by furrows and irregularities in the channel, or
fall into other currents, or mix with them and become sub-
ject to the same influences, or are affected by the annual or

EBB AND FLOW. 193

trade winds, which return at regular periods of the year.
That in consequence of these and similar causes, they
vary their states of flow and eddy, both as relates to
extending and widening the motion itself, and to the velo-
city and measure of the motion; and thus produce what
we term currents. Thus in the seas the depth of the basin
or channel, the occurrence of whirlpools or submarine
rocks, the curvature of the shore, gulfs, bays, the various
position of islands, and the like, have great effect, acting
powerfully on the waters, their paths, and agitations in all
possible directions, eastward and westward, and in like
manner northward and southward; wherever, in fact, such
obstacles, open spaces, and declivities exist in their res-
pective formations. Let us then set aside this particu-
lar, and, so to speak, casual motion of the waters, lest
it should introduce confusion in the inquisition which we
now pursue. For no one can raise and support a denial
of the statement which we are presently to make, concern-
ing the natural and catholic motions of the seas, by
opposing to it this motion of the currents, as not at all
consistent with our positions. For the currents are mere
compressions of the water, or extrications of it from com-
pression : and are, as we have said, partial, and relative to
the local form of the land or water, or the action of the
winds. And what we have said is the more necessary to
be recollected and carefully noted, because that universal
movement of the ocean of which we now treat is so gentle
and slight, as to be entirely overcome by the impulse of
the currents, to fall into their order, and to give way, be
agitated, and mastered by their violence. That this is
the case is manifest particularly from this fact, that the
motion of ebb and flow, simply, is not perceptible in mid
sea, especially in seas broad and vast, but only at the
shores. It is therefore not at all surprising that, as inferior
in force, it disappears, and is as it were annihilated amidst
the currents; except that where the currents are favourable,
it lends them some aid and impetuosity, and on the con-
trary where they are adverse considerably restrains them.
Waiving then the motion of the currents, we proceed to the
four regular motions; that in the six hours, in the month,
in the half month, and in six months, of which the sex-
horary motion alone seems to produce and develope the
ordinary tide, the monthly to determine that motion and
define its renewal ; the half monthly and half yearly to in-
crease and strengthen it. For the ebb and flow which cover
VOL, XV. oO

194 EBB AND FLOW.

and quit again a certain extent of shore, both vary at various
hours, and according to the momentum and quantity of
the water ; whence these three other motions are rendered
more perceptible.

We must therefore contemplate, singly and specifically,
as we purposed, the motion of ebb and flow. And first
it is necessary to grant that this motion, the subject of
inquiry, is one of these two: either the motion of an
elevation and depression, or the motion of a progression of
the waters. The motion of elevation and depression we
understand to be such as is found in boiling water, mount-
ing and subsiding alternately in a caldron: the motion of
progression to be such as is observed in water carried ina
basin, which quitting the one side, is projected to the oppo-
site. Now that the motion we treat of is not of the former
sort, is in the first place suggested by this fact, that in dif-
ferent parts of the world the tides vary according to the
times, so that in certain places there are floods and accu-
mulations of the mass of waters, in others at the same
hours ebbs and diminutions. Now the waters, if they did
not travel from place to place, but rose ebullient from
the bottom, ought to rise every where at once, and to
subside together. For we see those two other motions,
the monthly and half monthly, in full movement and
operation, at the same periods throughout the globe. For
the waves increase at the equinoxes in all parts, not in
certain places under the equator, or in others under the
tropics: and the same is true of the half monthly motion.
For every where over the world, the waters are elevated at
new moon and full moon, no where at half moon. The
waters therefore are manifestly raised, and again depressed
in these two motions, and like the heavenly bodies have
their apogees and perigees. But in the ebb and flow of
the sea, which we now discuss, the contrary takes place, an
unequivocal sign of progressive motion. Besides ere we
set down the flow of the sea as an elevation of the waters,
we ought to consider a little more carefully how that ele-
vation can take place. For the swelling must either be
produced by an augmentation of the mass of waters, or
from an extension or rarefaction of fluid in that mass, or
from simple elevation of the mass or body. The third sup-
position we must dismiss entirely. For if the water united
in the same body were lifted up, a vacuum would neces-
sarily be left between the earth and the under face of the
water, there being no body ready to succeed and supply

EBB AND FLOW. 195

its place. If there were a fresh quantity of water added,
it must be by flowing and eruption from the earth. If
there were dilatation only, this must take place either by
solution into greater rarity, or by a tendency to approach
another body, which as it were evokes the waters, attracts
them, and lifts them to greater elevation. And, doubtless,
that state of the waters, whether considered as ebullition,
or rarefaction, or harmony with some one or other of the
heavenly bodies, cannot seem incredible, that is to a moderate
extent, and on the supposition of the lapse of considerable
time, in which such swellings and accretions may gather
and accumulate. Therefore the difference observable be-
tween the ordinary, and the half monthly tide, or the most
copious of all, the half yearly one, in which the addition to
the mass of waters, is not equal to the difference between
ordinary ebb and flow, and has besides a large interval of
time insensibly to form, may, on the hypothesis of eleva-
tion and depression, be consistently explained. But that
so great a mass of water should burst forth as to ex-
plain that difference which is found between the ebb and
flow, and that this should take place with such extreme
rapidity, namely, twice a day, as if the earth, according to
the fantastic notion of Apollonius, performed respiration,
and breathed waters every six hours, and then again in-
haled them, is very hard to believe. And let no man be
misled by the unimportant fact that in some places wells
are said to have a simultaneous motion with the ebb and
flow of the sea, whence one might conjecture, that waters
inclosed in the entrails of the earth boil up in like manner,
in which case that swelling of the waters cannot be attri-
buted to a progressive motion. For the answer is an easy
one, that the flow of the sea by its encroachment may per-
forate and gorge many hollow and loose places of the earth,
turn the course of subterraneous waters, or cause a rever-
beration of the inclosed air, which by a continued series of
impulsions may raise the water in this sort of wells. Ac-
cordingly this does not take place in all wells, nor even in
many, which ought to be the case if the entire mass of
waters had a property of periodically boiling up, and a
harmony with the tide. But on the contrary, this rarely
happens, so as to be regarded almost as a miracle, because
in fact such apertures and spiracles as reach from wells to
the sea, without circuity or impediment, are very rarely
found ; nor is it unimportant to mention, what some relate, *
that in deep pits situated not far from the sea, the air be-

196 EBB AND FLOW.

comes thick and suffocating at the time of ebb, from which
it may seem manifest, not that the waters boil up, (for
none are seen to do so), but that the air is reverberated.
No doubt there is another objection, not despicable but of
great weight, every way deserving of an answer, one which
has been the subject of careful observation, and that not
incidentally, but a thing specially and of purpose inquired
into and discovered, namely, that the waters at the opposite
shores of Europe and of Florida ebb at the same hours
from both shores, and do not quit the shore of Europe
when they roll to the shore of Florida, like water (as we
have said before) agitated in a basin, but are manifestly
raised and depressed at either shore at once. But a clear
solution of this objection will be seen in the observations
which shall presently be made about the path and pro-
gression of the ocean; the substance, however, is this;
that the waters, setting out in their course from the Indian
ocean, and obstructed by the remora of the continents of
the old and new world, are impelled along the Atlantic
from south to north; so that it is no wonder if they are
driven against either shore equally at the same time, as
waters are wont to be, which are propelled from the sea
into estuaries and up the channels of rivers, evidently
showing that the motion of the sea is progressive as respects
the rivers, and yet that it at once inundates both shores.
Notwithstanding, according to our custom we freely con-
fess, and would have men observe and remember, that if it
is found in experience that the tide advances at the same
time on the coast of China and Peru, as on that of Europe
and Florida, this our opinion, that ebb and flow is a pro-
gressive motion of the sea, must be repudiated.

For if the flow of the sea takes place at the same time
at the opposite shores, as well of the Pacific or Southern
Ocean as of the Atlantic Ocean, there are not in the uni-
verse any shores remaining, at which a corresponding ebb,
at the same time, might afford a satisfactory solution of
the objection. But we propose with confidence of a trial
of this by experiment, to whose test we submit our cause:
for we are clearly of opinion, that were the general result
of a trial of this fact through the world known to us, this
compact of nature would be found effected on sufficiently
reciprocal conditions, namely, that at any given hour as
much reflux took place in some parts of the world as flow
in others. Therefore, from what we have stated, this mo-
tion of ebb and flow may be affirmed progressive.

EBB AND FLOW. 197 —

Now follows the inquiry, from what cause and what
combination of things this motion of ebb and flow arises
and is presented to view. For all the great movements
(if these be regular and perpetual) are not isolated, or (to
use here an expression of the astronomers) ferine, but have
something in nature with which they move harmoniously.
Therefore those motions, as well the half monthly one of
increase as the monthly of reparation, appear to accord
with the motion of the moon; and again the half monthly,
or equinoctial, with the motion of the sun; also the eleva-
tions and depressions of the water, with the approximation
and revolution in the orbits of the heavenly bodies. Not-
withstanding, it will not immediately follow from this, and
we would have men note the observation, that those things
which agree in their periods and curriculum of time, or
even in their mode of relation, are of a nature subjected
the one to the other, and stand respectively as cause and
effect. Thus we do not go so far as to affirm, that the mo-
tions of the sun ought to be set down as the causes of the
inferior motions which are analogous to them; or that the
sun and moon (as is commonly said) have dominion over
these motions of the sea, although such notions are easily
insinuated into our minds from veneration of the heavenly
bodies; but in that very half monthly motion, if it be
rightly noted, it were a new and surprising kind of subjec-
tion to influence, that the tides at new and at full moon
should be affected in the same manner, when the moon
is affected in contrary ways ; and many other things might
be instanced, destroying similar fancies of this sort of
dominant influence, and leading to this inference that those
correspondencies arise from the catholic affections of mat-
ter, from the primary concatenation of causes, and con-
nexion of things; not as if such were governed the one
by the other, but both flowed from the same sources and
from joint causes. Notwithstanding this, however, it
remains true, as we have said, that nature delights in
harmony, and scarcely admits of any thing isolated or soli-
tary. We must therefore look, in treating of the sexhorary
ebb and flow of the sea, with what other motions it is
found to agree and harmonize. And first we must in-
quire with respect to the moon, in what manner that mo-
tion blends relations or natures with the moon. But this
we do not see prevail except in the monthly repairing of
the moon, for the periodical course of six hours has no
affinity with the monthly course; nor again are the tides

198 EBB AND FLOW.

found to follow any affections of the moon. For whether
the moon be crescent or waning, whether she be under the
earth or above the earth, whether her elevation above the
horizon be higher or lower, whether her position be in the
zenith or elsewhere, in none of these relations do the ebb
and flow of the tide correspond with her.

Therefore, leaving the moon, let us inquire concerning
other correspondencies; and from all the motions of the
heavenly bodies, it is certain that the diurnal motion is the
shortest, and is accomplished in the least period of time,
that is, in the space of twenty-four hours. It is therefore
in harmony with this, that the motion of which we inquire,
which is yet three times shorter than the diurnal one,
should be referred immediately to that motion which is the
shortest of the heavenly ones. But this notion has no
great weight with us in this matter. Another hypothesis
has more influence with us, that this motion is so distri-
buted that though the motion of the waters is slower by
innumerable degrees, still it is referable to a common
measure. For the space of six hours is a quarter of the
diurnal motion, which space (as we said) is found in that
motion of the sea with a difference coinciding with the
measure of the moon’s motion. Whereupon this belief
sinks deep into our mind, and looks as it were an oracular
truth, that this motion is of the same kind with the diurnal
motion. With this, therefore, as a basis, we shall proceed
to a thorough inquiry: and we think that the whole sub-
ject is exhausted in three points of investigation.

The first is, whether that diurnal motion is confined
within the regions of heaven, or descends, and penetrates
to the lower parts? The second is, whether the seas move
regularly from east to west as the heaven does? The third,
whence and how that six hours’ motion of the tides takes
place which coincides with a quarter of the diurnal motion,
with a difference falling in with the measure of the moon’s
motion. Now, as relates to the first inquiry, we think that
the motion of rotation, or of turning from east to west, is
not properly a motion merely of the heavenly bodies, but
manifestly of the universe, and a primary motion in all the
great fluids, found to prevail from the highest part of
heaven to the lowest part of the waters, in direction the
same in all, in impulse, that is, in rapidity and slowness,
widely different ; in such wise, however, that in an order
not in the least confused, the rapidity is diminished in pro-
portion as the bodies approach the globe of the earth.

EBB AND FLOW. | 199

Now this, it seems, may be taken as a probable reason for
supposing that that motion is not limited to the heavens;
because it prevails and is in force through so great a depth
of heaven as lies between the starry heaven and the moon,
(a space much more extensive than that between the moon
and the earth), with a regular diminution; so that it is
probable that nature does not at any point abruptly break
off a harmonious motion of this kind, diffused through such
vast spheres and gradually lessening. And that this is
so in the heavenly bodies is evinced by two inconsistencies,
which follow from the opposite hypothesis. For since
the planets visibly perform a diurnal motion, unless we are
to suppose that motion natural and self-moved in all the
planets, we must unavoidably have recourse for an expla-
nation either to the supposition of the primum mobile,
which is evidently opposed to nature; or to the rotation of
the earth, which is a notion extravagant enough, if we look
to the methods of nature. Therefore the motion exists in
the heavenly bodies. And, quitting heaven, that motion is
most distinctly visible in the inferior comets ; which, though
lower than the orb of the moon, evidently move from east
to west. For though they have their solitary and eccen-
tric motions, yet in performing them they for a time have
a common movement, and are borne along with the motion
of the ether, and with the same conversion: but in the
tropics they are not generally so confined, nor move in the
regular course, but sometimes straggle towards the poles,
yet nevertheless pursue their rotatory motion from east to
west. And thus this motion, though it suffers great dimi-
nution, since the nearer it descends towards earth the con-
version 1s performed in smaller circles, and more slowly,
still remains powerful, so as to traverse great distances
in a short time. For these comets are carried round the
whole circumference, both of the earth and the lower at-
mosphere, in the space of twenty-four hours, with an ex-
cess of one or two hours more. But after, by a continued
descent, it has reached these regions upon which the earth
acts, this motion, not only by the communication of the
earth’s nature and influence, which represses and lowers
circular motion, but also by a substantial immission of the
particles of its matter, by means of vapours and gross ex-
halations, becomes infinitely relaxed, and almost falls off,
yet it is not therefore wholly annihilated or ceases, but
remains feeble and verging to imperceptible. For mariners
now begin to confess that between the tropics, where, in

200 EBB AND FLOW.

the open sea, the motion of the air is best perceived ; and
where the air itself, as well as heaven, revolves in a larger
circle, and therefore more rapidly, that a perennial and
gentle breeze blows from east to west, insomuch that those
who wish to use the south west wind often seek and avail
themselves of it outside the tropics. Consequently this
motion is not extinguished, but becomes languid and ob-
scure, so as to be scarcely perceptible outside the tropics.
Yet even outside the tropics, in our own part of the globe,
Europe, at sea, in serene and peaceful weather, there is ob-
served a certain wind, which is of the same species; we
may even conjecture that what we experience here in Eu-
rope, where the east wind is sharp and dry, and, on the
contrary, the south west winds are cherishing and humid,
does not depend merely on the circumstance that the one
blows from a continent, the other from the ocean, but on
this, that the breath of the east wind, since it is in the
same train with the proper motion of the air, accelerates
and heightens that motion, and therefore disperses and
rarifies the air; but that of the west wind, which is in the
contrary direction to the motion of the air, makes it re-
bound upon itself, and become inspissated. Nor ought
this to be neglected, which is admitted into the number of
common observations, that the clouds which are in motion
in the upper part of the air generally move from east to
west; while the winds about the earth’s surface generally
blow at the same time the contrary way. And if they do
not this always, the reason is this; that there are some
times opposite winds, some acting on the high, others on
the lowest, exhalations. Now those blowing on high, if
they be adverse, confound the real motion of the air. It is
sufficiently clear, then, that the motion is not confined
within the limits of heaven.

Then follows in order the second inquisition: Whether
the waters move regularly from east to west. Now when
we speak of waters, we mean those accumulations or masses
of waters which are such large portions of nature as to
have a relation of harmony to the fabric and system of the
universe. And we are fully of opinion that the same motion
is natural to, and inherent in, the body of waters, but is
slower than in the air; though, on account of the grossness
of the body, it is more palpable and manifest. Of this we
shall content ourselves with three selected from many ex-
perimental proofs, but these weighty and marked ones,
which prove that this is so.

EBB AND FLOW. 201

The first is that there is found a manifest motion and
flow of waters from the Indian ocean, even to the Atlantic,
and that more swift and strong towards the Straits of Ma-
gellan, when an outlet is opened to them westwards; and
a great current also on the other side of the world from the
northern ocean to the British sea. And these currents of
waters manifestly roll from east to west ; in which fact we
must note in the first place, that in those two places alone
the seas find thoroughfares, and can describe in flowing a
complete circle: whereas, on the contrary, at the central
regions of the globe, by the two ramparts of the old and
new world, they are thrown off and driven (as it were into
the estuaries of rivers) into the basins of the Atlantic and
Pacific, the two oceans extending between the south and
north, and open to the motion of a current from east to west.
So that the true course of the waters is most safely inferred
from the extremities of the globe, as we have stated, where
they meet with no impediment, but sweep round in full
circuit. And the first experiment is thus, the second is the
following.

Let us suppose that the tide takes place at the mouth of
the Straits of Gibraltar at any given hour: it is certain that
the tide sets in at Cape St. Vincent later in the day than
at the mouth of the Straits,—at Cape Finisterre later than
at Cape St.Vincent,—at King’s Island later than at Cape
Finisterre,— at the Island Heek later than at King’s
Island,—at the entrance of the English channel later
than at Heek,—at the shore of Normandy later than at
the entrance of the channel. Thus far in regular order:
but at Graveling, as if by an entire inversion of the order,
and that with a great leap as it were, at the same hour,
with a velocity like that which it has at the mouth of the
Straits of Gibraltar. This second observation we apply to,
and compare with, the first. For we think, as has already
been said, that in the Indian and northern oceans the true
currents of the waters, that is from the east to the west, are
open and unimpeded, but in the channels of the Atlantic
and southern oceans imprisoned and crossing, and rever-
berated by the interposition of lands, which extend both
ways longitudinally from south to north; and no where
but toward their extremities afford a free canal to the waters.
But that strong direction of the waters, which is caused by
the Indian ocean towards the north, and in the opposite
direction from the north sea towards the south, differ infi-
nitely in the extent of sea, affected on account of the diffe-

202 EBB AND FLOW.

rent force and quantity of waters. But that this should
take place is unavoidable. For the two great islands of
the old and new world have the same figures, and are so
stretched out as to broaden to the north, and taper to the
south. The seas, therefore, on the contrary towards the
south occupy a vast space, but to the north a small one, at the
back of Asia, Africa, and America ; consequently that great
mass of waters which is discharged from the Indian ocean,
and is refracted into the Atlantic, is capable of forcing or pro-
pelling the course of the waters in a continued movement
nearly to the British sea, which is a part of the line described
northwards. But that much smaller portion of the waters
which issues from the north sea, and which has also a free
passage westwards at the back of America, is not strong
enough to turn the course of the waters southwards, except
towards that point which we mentioned, namely, about the
British sea. Now, in these opposite currents, there must
be some goal where they meet and contend, and where
within short space the order of advance is suddenly changed,
as we have said occurs about Graveling—the focus of the
currents from the Indian and northern oceans, and that a
certain ocean stream is formed by opposite currents on the
coast of Holland has been noted by numbers, not only from
the inversion of the hour of the tide, which we have stated,
but also from the peculiar visible effect. Now if this is so,
we return to the position, that it must needs be that in pro-
portion, as the parts and shores of the Atlantic extend
southwards and approach the Indian sea, in the same pro-
portion the tide is prior, and early in the order of approach,
and in proportion as you go northwards (as far as their
common goal), where they are forced back by the antagonist
stream of the northern ocean, they are backward and
late. Now that this is the case, the observation of the
progression from the Straits of Gibraltar to the British sea
manifestly proves. Wherefore we think that the tide about
the shores of Africa is at an earlier hour than that of the
Straits of Gibraltar, and in reversed order the tide about
Norway earlier than the tide about Sweden—but this we
have not ascertained by experiment or testimony.

A third experiment 1s the following: The seas confined
by land on one side, which we call bays, if they stretch out
with any inclination from east to west, which is in the
same line of impetus with the true motion of the waters,
have heavy and powerful tides; but if in the opposite
direction, weak and scarcely perceptible. For the Red

EBB AND FLOW. 203

Sea hath a considerable tide; and the Persian Gulf, with
a yet more entire westward direction, a still stronger.
But the Mediterranean, the greatest of all gulfs, and its
parts the Tuscan, Pontic, and Propontic Seas, and in like
manner the Baltic, all which tend eastward, are almost
destitute of tide, or have only languid ones. But this
difference is most conspicuous in certain parts of the
Mediterranean which so long as they tend eastwards or
turn towards the north, as in the Tuscan Sea and the
others we have mentioned, are pacific and without much
tide. But after getting a westerly direction, which takes
place in the Adriatic, it acquires a remarkably large tide.
To which we may also add this, that in the Mediterranean
the slight reflux which is found begins from the ocean, the
flow from the opposite direction, so that the water follows
rather a course from the east than the natural refluence of
the ocean. The three instances only we shall use for the
present, in reference to this second inquiry.

There may be added to these another species of proof
agreeing with those already advanced, but of a more diffi-
cult nature: it is this, that an arguinent may be sought for
proof of this motion from east to west, not only from the
consenting motion of the heavens of which we have already
spoken,—where this motion is, as it were, in full flower
and strength,—but also from the earth when it seems wholly
to cease: so that it is really a direction of the universe, and
pervades all things from the zenith to the interior parts of
the earth. Now we apprehend that this conversion takes
place from east to west (as in reality it is found to do),
upon the south and north poles. And Gilbertus has, with
great care and accuracy, accomplished for us this discovery,
that the whole earth and nature, so far as we call it terres-
trial, have an inclination or polarity, not softened down, but
rigid and, as Gilbertus himself calls it, robust, latent, but
betraying itself in many nice experiments towards the north
and south. And this observation we thus modify and cor-
rect, that this ought to be asserted only of the exterior for-
mation about the surface of the earth, and ought not to be
extended to the bowels of the earth, for that the earth is a
magnet was at one time conceived,—a light imagination,—
for it cannot be that the inward parts of the earth resemble
any substance which the eye of man hath seen; since all
the substances among which we live are loosened, subdued,
or broken up by the sun and heavenly bodies, so that they
cannot possibly agree with those which have had their seat

204 EBB AND FLOW.

in a place where the influence of the heavenly bodies does
not penetrate ;—but, which is our present subject, the more
superficial crusts or formations of the earth appear to agree
with the conversions of the sun, air, and waters, as far as
solid and fixed bodies can agree with liquid and fluid,
that is, not that they move towards the poles, but are
pointed and turned towards the poles. For since every
revolving sphere, which has fixed poles, participates of the
nature of moveable and fixed; after, by its consistency or
self-determining nature, the rotatory force is bound up,
still the force and tendency to direct itself remains, is aug-
mented and gathered into one; so that direction and ver-
ticity to the poles in hard bodies is the same with the
revolution on their poles in fluids.

The third inquiry remains. Whence and how arises that
reciprocal action of the tides, once in six hours, which
coincides with a quarter of the diurnal motion, with that
difference to which we have adverted. To understand this,
let us suppose that the whole globe was covered with water,
as in the general deluge ; we conceive the waters as form-
ing a complete and unbroken globe, would always roll in a
progression from east to west each day to a certain extent:
not certainly a great space, on account of the remission
and debilitation of that motion as it approaches the earth ;
seeing the waters were no where obstructed or confined.
Let us suppose again, that the whole land was an island,
and that it extended longitudinally between south and north,
which conformation and position most restrain and ob-
struct the motion from east to west; we think that the
waters would keep on in their direct and natural course for
a certain time, but, reverberated by the shores of that island,
would roll back in equal intervals, that there would be,
therefore, only one influx of the sea a day, and in like
manner only one reflux, and that to each of these about
twelve hours would be apportioned. And let us now sup-
pose what is true and matter of fact, that the land is divided
into two islands, those, namely, of the new and old world ;
for Australia, by its position, does not much alter the effect,
as neither does Greenland nor Nova Zembla, and that
these two islands extend through nearly three zones of the
world, between which two oceans, the Atlantic and Southern,
flow, and these nowhere find a thoroughfare, except towards
the Poles; we think it necessarily follows, that these two
ramparts impart and communicate the character of double
reaction to the entire mass of waters. Whence arises that

EBB AND FLOW. 205

motion in the quarter of a day,—so that the waters being
cooped in on both sides, the ebb and flow of the sea would
become visible twice a day, since there is a double advance
and also a double recoil. Now if these two islands were
extended through the waters like cylinders or columns, of
equal dimensions, and with rectilinear shores, that mo-
tion might be easily perceptible, and might be pointed out to
any one, which now seems to be perplexed and obscured by
so great a variety of position of land and sea. For it is not
difficult to form some conjecture what degree of velocity it
is proper to ascribe to that motion of the waters, and what
distances it may describe in one day. For if there be
selected, in order to form a judgment of this matter, some
of those coasts which are less mountainous or low lying,
and which are contiguous to the open sea, and then the
measure of the space of the globe interjacent between the
extreme points of the flux and reflux, and that space be
quadrupled on account of the four movements of the tide
each day, and that number again doubled on account of the
tides at the opposite shores of the same ocean; and to this
number there be something added over and above on ac-
count of the height of the shores which always rise to a
certain elevation above the channel of the sea; that calcu-
lation will give the space which this sphere of water, were it
free from obstruction, and moving in progression round the
enveloped globe of earth, would describe in one day, which
certainly would not be great.

Now, with respect to that difference which coincides
with the measure of the moon’s motion, and forms the
period of a lunar month; we think that the explanation is
this, that the period of six hours is not the exact measure
of this reaction, just as the diurnal motion of any of the
planets is not accomplished in twenty-four hours precisely,
and least of all that of the moon. herefore the measure
of the ebb and flow of the tide is not a quarter of the
motion of the fixed stars, which is twenty-four hours, but
a quarter of the diurnal motion of the moon.

DIRECTIONS.

Let it be inquired, whether the hour of the tide on the
coast of Africa be before the hour of tide about the Straits
of Gibraltar. Let it be inquired whether the hour of the
tide about Norway is before the hour of the tide about
Sweden, and that, in like manner, before the hour of the
tide at Graveling ?

206 EBB AND FLOW.

Let it be inquired, whether the hour of the tide on the
coast of Brazil be before the hour of the tide on the coast
of New Spain and Florida ?

Let it be inquired, whether the hour of the tide at the
shores of China is not found nearly the same with the hour
of tide on the coast of Peru, and with the hour of reflux
on the coast of Africa and Florida?

Let it be inquired, how far the hour of tide on the coast
of Peru differs from the hour of tide at the coast of New
Spain; and particularly what are the differences of the hour
of tide at either shore of the Isthmus of Darien, in America ;
again, how far the hour of tide on the coast of Peru corres-
ponds with the hour of tide on the coast of China?

Let it be inquired respecting the largeness of the tides
on different coasts, not merely respecting their periods or
hours. For although the largeness of tides is generally
caused by the depressions of the shores, yet notwithstand-
ing they are closely connected with the true principle of the
motion of the sea, according as it is favourable or adverse.

Let inquiry be made with respect to the Caspian sea,
which is formed by considerable bodies of water locked up
without any outlet, into the ocean, if they are-subject to
ebb and flow, and what? our conjecture being that the
waters of the Caspian Sea may have one tide a day, not
two, and such that the eastern shores of it are deserted by
the sea, while the western are overflowed.

And let inquiry be made, whether the increase of the
tide at new and full moons and at the equinoxes, takes
place at the same time in different parts of the world (and
when we say at the same time, we do not mean at the same
hour, for the hours vary, according to the rapidity of the
waters’ motion towards the shores as we have said), but in
the same day.

Limits. The inquiry is not extended to a full explana-
tion of the harmony of the monthly motion of the sea with
the moon’s motion, whether that takes place from a subor-
dinate or a joint cause.

Relations. The present inquiry is connected with the
inquiry whether the earth revolves with the diurnal motion
of the heavens. For if the tide is, so to speak, the last
stage of the gradual diminution of the diurnal motion, it
will follow that the globe of the earth is immoveable, or at
least that its motion is slower by far than that of the waters.

Woe,

207

TRANSLATION OF THE ABECEDARIUM NATURE,
BY ARCHBISHOP TENNISON.

PUBLISHED IN THE BACONIANA, 1679.

THE SAME IN ENGLISH BY THE PUBLISHER.

A Fragment of a Book written by the Lord Verulam, and
entituled, The Alphabet of Nature.

SEEING so many things are produced by the earth and
waters ; so many things pass through the air, and are re-
ceived by it; so many things are changed and dissolved
by fire; other inquisitions would be less perspicuous,
unless the nature of those masses which so often occur,
were well known and explained. To these we add inqui-
sitions concerning celestial bodies, and meteors, seeing
they are some of greater masses, and of the number of
Catholic bodies.*

Greater Masses.

The sixty-seventh inquisition. The threefold Tau, or
concerning the earth.

The sixty-eighth inquisition. The threefold Upsilon,
or concerning the water.

The sixty-ninth inquisition. The threefold Phi, or con-
cerning the air.

‘The seventieth inquisition. The threefold Chi, or con-

cerning the fire.

The seventy-first inquisition. The threefold Psi, or
concerning celestial bodies.

The seventy-second inquisition. The threefold Omega,
or concerning meteors,

Conditions of Entities.

There yet remain, as subjects of our inquiry, in our al-
phabet, the conditions of beings, which seem, as it were,
transcendentals, and such as touch very little of the body
of nature. Yet by that manner of inquisition which we
use, they will considerably illustrate the other objects.

* See the distribution, in ]. 2. c. 3. de Augm. Scient. p. 234, 135, 136.
Ed. Lugd. Bat. 1.3, c. 4, p. 231. Andc.4. Globi Intellect. p. 88, 89,

208 ALPHABET OF NATURE.

First ; therefore seeing (as Democritus excellently ob-
served) the nature of things is in the plenty of matter, and
variety of individuals large, and (as he affirmeth) infinite ;
but in its coitions and species so finite, that it may seem
narrow and poor; seeing so few species are found, either in
actual being or impossibility, that they scarce make up a
muster of a thousand; and seeing negatives subjoined to
affirmatives, conduce much to the information of the un-
derstanding: it is fit that an inquisition be made concern-
ing being, and not being. That is the seventy-third in
order, and reckoned the fourfold Alpha.

Conditions of beings. The fourfold Alpha; or, concern-
ing being, and not being.

Now possible and impossible, are nothing else but condi-
tions potential to being, or not potential to being. Of
this the seventy-fourth inquisition consists, and is accounted
the fourfold Beta.

Conditions of beings. The fourfold Beta; or concerning
possible and impossible.

Also, much, little; rare, ordinary ; are conditions poten-
tial to being in quantity. Of them let the seventy-fifth
inquisition consist, and be accounted the fourfold Gamma.

Conditions of beings. The fourfold Gamma; or, con-
cerning much and little.

Durable and transitory, eternal and momentary, are po-
tential to being in duration. Of these let the seventy-sixth
inquisition consist, and be called the fourfold Delta.

Conditions of beings. The fourfold Delta; or, concern-
ing durable and transitory.

Natural and monstrous, are potential to being, either by
the course of nature, or by its deviations from it. Of these
let the seventy-seventh inquisition consist, which is ac-
counted the fourfold Epsilon.

Conditions of beings. The fourfold Epsilon ; or, concern-
ing what is natural or monstrous.

Natural and artificial, are potential to being, either with
or without the operation of man. Of these let the seventy-
Sa inquisition consist, and be accounted the fourfold

eta.

Conditions of beings. The fourfold Zeta; or, of that
which is natural and artificial. ;

We have not subjoined examples in the explication of
the order of this our alphabet: for the inquisitions them-
selves contain the whole array of examples.

It is by no means intended, that the titles, according to

ALPHABET OF NATURE. 209

which the order of this alphabet is disposed, should have
so much authority given to them, as to be taken for true
and fixed partitions of things. That were to profess we
already knew the things after which we inquire; for no
man does truly dispose of things into their several classes,
who does not beforehand very well understand the nature
of them. It is sufficient, if these titles be conveniently
adapted to the order of inquiry; the thing which is at
present designed, oot

The Rule, or Form of the Alphabet.

After this manner we compose and dispose our alphabet.

We begin solely with history and experiments. These
if they exhibit an enumeration and series of particular
things, are disposed into tables; otherwise they are taken
separately, and by themselves.

But seeing we are often at a loss for history and experi.
ments, especially such as are luciferous, or instructive,
and, as we call them, instances of the cross; * by which
the understanding might be helped in the knowledge of
the true causes of things: we propose the task of making
new experiments. These may serye as an history in de-
sign. For what else is to be done by us who are but
breaking the ice ?

For the mode of any more abstruse experiment, we ex-
plain it, lest any mistake arise about it; and to the intent
also that we may excite others to excogitate better me-
thods.

Also we interspect certain admonitions and cautions
concerning such fallacies of things, and errors in invention,
as we meet with in our way.

We subjoin our observations upon history and expe-
riments, that the interpretation of nature may be the more
in readiness and at hand.

Likewise we lay down canons (but not such as are fixed
and determined) and axioms which are, as it were, in
embryo: Such as offer themselves to us in the quality of
inquirers, and not of judges. Such canons and axioms
are profitable, though they appear not yet manifest, and
upon all accounts true.

* See Nov. Organ. 1.2. Aph. 36.
VOL, XV. P

210 ALPHABET OF NATURE.

Lastly ; we meditate sometimes certain Essays of inter-
pretation, though such as are low and of small advance,
and by no means to be honoured (in our opinion) with the
aed name of interpretation.

or what need have we of arrogance or imposture, seeing
we have so often professed, that we have not such a supply
of history and experiments as is needful; and that without
these, the interpretation of nature cannot be brought to per-
fection. Wherefore it is enough for us, if we are not want-
ing to the beginning of things.

Now for the sake of perspicuity and order, we prepare
our way by avenues, which are a kind of prefaces to our
inquisitions. Likewise we interpose bonds of connexion,
that our inquisitions may not seem abrupt and disjointed.

Also we suggest for use some hints of practice. Fur-
thermore, we propose wishes of such things as are hitherto
only desired and not had, together with those things which
border on them, for the exciting the industry of man’s
mind, !

Neither are we ignorant, that those inquisitions are
sometimes mutually entangled; so that some things of
which we inquire, even the same things belong to several
titles. But we will observe such measure, that (as far as
may be) we may shun both the nauseousness of repetition,
and the trouble of rejection, submitting notwithstanding to
either of these, when in an argument so obscure, there is
necessity of so doing, in order to the more intelligible
teaching of it.

This is the form and rule of our alphabet.

May God, the creator, preserver, and renewer of the uni-
verse, protect and govern this work, both in its ascent to
his glory, and in its descent to the good of mankind, for the
sake of his mercy and good will to men, through his only
Son, Immanuel, God with us.

211

TRANSLATION OF CATALOGUE OF BODIES,

ATTRACTIVE AND NOT ATTRACTIVE.
BY ARCHBISHOP TENNISON.

PUBLISHED IN THE BACONIANA, 1678,

Ir there be made a turn-pin of any metal, after the fashion
of a magnetic needle, and amber be applied to one end of
it, after having been gently rubbed, the pin will turn.

Amber heated by the fire, be it warmish, hot, or set on
fire, it does not draw.

A little bar of iron red hot, flame, a lighted candle, a hot
coal, put nigh sheaves (or straws) or turn-pins (or compass
needles) do not draw.

Amber, in a greater mass, if it be polite, draws, though
not rubbed: in a lesser quantity, and in a less polite mass,
it draws not without rubbing,

Crystal, lapis specularis, glass, and other such electric
bodies, if burnt, or scorched, draw not,

Pitch, the softer rosin, benjoin, asphaltum, camphire,
galbanum, ammoniac, storax, assa, these draw not at all
when the air is hot: but when it is cooler, they draw
weakly, and so that we can just perceive them to do so.

Reeking air, blown up amber, &c. from the mouth, or
from a moister atmosphere; choaketh the attractive virtue.

If a paper, or a piece of linen, be put between amber and
chaff, there is no motion, or attraction made,

Amber, or other electrics, warmed by the sun-beams,
have not their attractive virtue so awakened, as by rub-
bing.

sete rubbed, and exposed to the beams of the sun, re-
tains its attractive force the longer; and does not so soon
lose it, as it would do in the shadow.

Heat derived from a burning-glass to amber, &c. does
not ae its attraction.

Sulphur, and hard wax, set on fire, do not draw.

ere CATALOGUE OF BODIES.

Amber, when immediately after rubbing, it is applied to
a shiver, or a compass needle, draws best of all.

The electric virtue is as vigorous, for a time, in its reten-
tion, as it was in its first attraction.

Flame (amber being put within the sphere of its activity)
is not drawn by it.

A drop of water, amber being applied towards it, is
drawn into a cone.

If electric bodies be rubbed too hard, their attraction is
thereby hindered.

Those bodies, which in a clear sky do scarce draw, in a
thick air move not at all,

Water put upon amber choaketh its attractive force,
though it draweth the water itself.

Fat* so encompassing amber, that it toucheth it, takes
away its attraction; but being so put betwixt-it and the
object to be drawn, as not to touch it, it doth not take it
away.

Oil put upon amber, hinders not its motion: neither
doth amber, rubbed with the finger moistened with oil,
lose its attractive virtue..

Amber, jeats, and the like, do more strongly excite, and
longer retain the objects they draw, although the rubbing
be but little. But diamonds, chrystal, glass, ought to be
rubbed longer, that they may appear hot, ere they be used
for attraction,

Flames nigh to amber, though the distance be very small,
are not drawn by it,

Amber, &c. draw the smoke of a lamp newly extin-
guished.

Amber draws smoke more strongly when it comes forth,
and is more gross; and more weakly, when it ascends and
becomes thinner, erik,

A body drawn by electric bedies, is not manifestly al-
tered, but only leans itself upon them,

* For by Sarca, I suppose, he meaneth Sarcia.
y. PP

TRANSLATION OF ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA.

A supply (by the publisher) of certain weighty and elegant sentences, sonte
made, others cellected, by the Lord Bacon; and by him put under the
abovesaid title ; and at present not to be found.

A Collection of Sentences out of the Mimi of Publius ;
finglished by the Publisher.

1. Aleator, quantd in arte est melior, tantd est nequior.

A gamester, the greater master he is in his art, the worse
man he is.

2. Arcum, intensio frangit; animum, remissio.

Much bending breaks the bow; much unbending, the
mind.

3. Bis vincit, qui se vincit in victoria.

He conquers twice, who upon victory overcomes himself.

4, Cum vitia prosint, peccat, qui recte facit.

If vices were upon the whole matter profitable, the vir-
fuous man would be the sinner.

5. Bené dormit, qui non sentit, quod malé dormiat.

He sleeps well, who feels not that he sleeps ill.

6. Deliberare utilia, mora est tutissima.

To deliberate about useful things, is the safest delay.

7. Dolor decrescit, ubi quo crescat non habet.

The flood of grief decreaseth, when it can swell no higher.

8. Etiam innocentes cogit mentiri dolor.

Pain makes even the innocent man a liar.

9. Etiam celeritas in desiderio, mora est.

Even in desire, swiftness itself is delay.

10. Etiam capillus unus habet umbram suam.

The smallest hair casts a shadow.

1]. Fidem qui perdit, quo se servat in reliquum?

He that has lost his faith, what has he left to live on?

12. Formosa facies muta commendatio est.

A beautiful face is a silent commendation.

13. Fortuna nimium quem fovet, stultum facit.

Fortune makes him a fool, whom she makes her darling.

14. Fortuna obesse nulli contenta est semel.

Fortune is not content to do a man but one ill turn.

214 ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA.

15. Facit gratum fortuna, quam nemo videt.

The fortune which nobody sees, makes a man happy and
unenvied.

16. Heu! quam miserum est ab illo ledi, de quo non
possis queri. ,

O! what a miserable thing it is to be hurt by such a
one of whom it Is in vain to complain.

17. Homo toties moritur quoties amittit suos.

A man dies as often as he loses his friends.

18. Heeredis fletus, sub persona risus est.

The tears of an heir are laughter under a vizard.

19. Jucundum nihil est, nisi quod reficit varietas.

ee is pleasant, to miek variety does not give a
relish.

20. Invidiam ferre, aut fortis, aut foelix potest.

He may bear envy, who is either courageous or happy.

21. In malis sperare bonum, nisi innocens, nemo potest.

None but a virtuous man can hope well in ill cireum-
stances,

22. In vindicando, criminosa est celeritas.

In taking revenge, the very haste we make is criminal.

23. In calamitoso risus etiam injuria est.

When men are in calamity, if we do but laugh we offend.

24. Improbé Neptunum accusat, qui iterum Naufragium
facit.

He accuseth Neptune unjustly, who makes shipwreck a
second time.

25. Multis minatur, qui uni facit injuriam.

He that injures one, threatens a hundred.

26. Mora omnis ingrata est, sed facit sapientiam.

All delay is ungrateful, but we are not wise without it.

27. Mori est foelicis antequam mortem invocet.

Happy he who dies ere he calls for death to take him
away.
28. Malus ubi bonum se simulat, tunc est pessimus.

An ill man is always ill; but he is then worst of all when
he pretends to be a saint.

29. Magno cum periculo custoditur, quod multis placet.

Lock and key will scarce keep that secure, which pleases
every body.

30. Male vivunt qui se semper victuros putant.

They think ill who think of living always.

31. Malé secum agit eger, medicum qui heredem facit.

That sick man does ill for himself, who makes his phy-
sician his heir.

ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 215

32. Multis timere debet, quem multi timent.

He of whom many are afraid, ought himself to fear
many.

33. Nulla tam bona est fortuna, de qua nil possis queri.

There is no fortune so good but it bates an ace.

34. Pars beneficii est, quod petitur, si bene neges.

Res is part of the gift, if you deny genteelly what is asked

of you.

35. Timidus vocat se cautum, parcum sordidus.

The coward calls himself a wary man, and the miser says
he is frugal.

36. O vita! misero longa, felici brevis.

INQUISITION OF THE CONVERSIONS
OF BODIES.

TRANSLATED BY A. BLAIR, ESQ. 1830.

Inquisition of the Conversions, Transmutations, Multiplica-
tions, and Productions of Bodies.

Earrn, by fire, is converted into bricks, which are of the
nature of stones, and which we use for building, like stones.
So with tiles.

Naphtha, which was that bituminous cement, wherewith
the walls of Babylon were built, by time acquires exceed-
ingly great hardness and firmness, equal to stone.

In clayey lands, where are pebbles and gravel, you shall
find huge stones, concreted of pebbles and gravel, with
stony matter interposed, as hard, or truly harder, than the
pebbles themselves.

There are certain springs of water, wherein if you im-
merse wood, it shall be turned into the nature of stone; so
as that the part sunk in the water shall become stone, the
part above the water shall remain wood.

The viscous matter about the kidneys and bladder, in the
human body, is converted into a pebble or stony matter,
A stone, also, is often found in the gall-bladder; and some-
times, but this is most rare, in the vena porta.

216 INQUISITION OF BODIES.

Quere,; how much time is required, that the matter of
earth, in stone-quarries, may be converted into the stony
nature ?

. Water, as there is reason to think, is changed into
crystal; which may be seen in many caverns, where the
crystal hangs in drops.

You may have an experiment of wood, or the stalks of
plants, buried in quicksilver, whether they will harden, and,
as it were, petrify, or no,

Report has much prevailed of a stone, bred in the head
of an old and great toad. oo

It is related, that a certain nobleman, digging in the bed
of his pool, found an egg turned into stone, the white and
yolk retaining their proper colour; but the shell brightly
sparkling, like a diamond exquisitely cut in faces.

Make experiment of some bodies, let down near to the
bottom of a well, as wood, or other softer substances; but
let them not touch the water, lest they rot.

They say that the white of an egg, through long insola-
tion, or exposure in the sunbeams, has contracted the hard-
ness of a stone.

Mud, in water, is converted in the shells of fishes, as in
muscles,—(the fish) which are found in pools of fresh-water,
that flow not, and are covered with moss. But the sub-
stance of those shells is exceedingly delicate, clear, and
glistening,

217

TRANSLATION OF THE LATIN LETTERS,

CONTAINED IN VOL. XI. FROM PAGE 480, To PAGE 491, ARE

AS FOLLOW :—

Latin. English.
Vou. VIII. . xvii Voir. .4.480
Xe ASO ce eT
24RD ee eee 200
ASA es 202
ASAT ee 202
ASR ae 208
ACR a i ae eee 203

To the Count Gondomar, Ambassador from the
Court of Spain.

Most illustrious Lord Ambassador,

Your lordship’s love to me, both in its warmth and
purity hath, I am well assured, been ever equal and unal-
terable in prosperity as in adversity; in which regard I
offer you the thanks so worthily and justly claimed. Now
that at once my age, my fortunes, and my genius, to which
I have hitherto done but scanty justice, call me from the
stage of active life, I shall devote myself to letters, instruct
the actors on it and serve posterity. In such a course I
shall, perhaps, find honour. And [ shall thus pass my
life as within the verge of a better.

God preserve your Lordship in safety and prosperity,

Your Servant,
Fr. St. ALBAN.
June 6th, 1621.

To Count Gondomar.

Most Illustrious and Excellent Lord,
I see and acknowledge the divine providence in raising
up for me under my utter desertion, such a friend sent as
it were from heaven,.who involved in such great concerns,

218 TRANSLATION OF THE LATIN LETTERS.

and with time so very limited, has yet taken an interest in
my fortunes, and has effected that for me, which other
friends either dared not attempt or could not have ob-
tained.

Your lordship will enjoy the suitable and lasting fruit of
such dealing in your own noble character, so prone to all
the offices of sympathy and honour. Nor will this per-
haps be the least among your good deeds, that by your as-
sistance and favour you have raised and strengthened me
once one among the living, and who shall not altogether
die to posterity. What return can I make? I shall at
least ever be yours, if not in useful service, at least in
heart and good wishes. The fire of my love for you will
remain quick under the ashes of my fortune; wherefore, I
most humbly greet you, bid you farewell, wish you all
prosperity, call heaven to witness my gratitude, promise all
faithful observance.

To the Most Illustrious and Excellent Lord
Didacus Sarmiento de Acuna Count Gon-
domar, Ambassador Extraordinary of the
King of Spain to England.

To Count Gondomar, then in Spain.

Most Illustrious Count,

Many things inspire me with confidence, and even with
cheerful alacrity, in addressing you at this time on the
subject of my fortunes, and entreating your friendly offices.
First, and principally that since so close an alliance be-
tween our sovereigns may now be regarded as definitively
arranged, you are become so much the more powerful ad-
vocate; and I shrink not now from owing all my fortunes to
so great a man, though not my own countryman, and from
professing the obligation. Secondly, Since that promise
of indulgencies which your lordship while in this country
obtained for me, has not been succeeded by repulses, nor
on the other hand been completely fulfilled, it would seem
from this as if the divine providence intended that the
work of rescuing me from my misery was to be yours in its
end, as in its beginning. Thirdly, because those two
stars which have ever been propitious to me, the greater
and the less are now shining in your city, and thus by the
assisting and benignant rays of your friendship, they may
acquire an influence on my fortunes, which shall restore

TRANSLATION OF THE LATIN LETTERS. 219

me to a place in the scale of favour, not unbefitting my
former elevation. Fourthly, because I learn from the let-
ters you have lately written to my intimate friend, Sir
Toby Matthew, that you cherish a lively and warm remem-
brance of me, which has neither been overwhelmed nor ex-
tinguished, under the weight of those high and sublime
interests which rest on your lordship. Lastly, too, there
is this circumstance that since by the friendship of the ex-.
cellent lord Marquis, I have been admitted to see and
converse with my king, I feel as if I were once more esta-
blished in favour. The king did not speak to me as a
guilty man, but as a man thrown down by a tempest; and
withal in his address to me he acknowledged at great
length, and, as it seemed, with singular tenderness, my
steady and invariable course of industry and integrity.
Whence the greater hope springs up within me, that by
the continuance of my sovereign’s regard, and the ex-
tinction of odium by the lapse of time, your Excellency’s
efforts for me will not be made in vain. Meanwhile I
have neither sunk into indolence, nor impertinently mixed
myself with affairs, but I live and am absorbed in labours
not at all derogatory to the honours I have borne, and
which shall perhaps leave no unpleasing memory of my
name to posterity. I hope therefore that I am no un-
worthy object, on which to display and signalize at once
the influence of your power and friendship; so that it
shall be apparent, that you have no less control over the
fortunes of a private man, than over public measures.
May God preserve your Excellency, and crown you with
all happiness.

Indorsed—My Lord St. Alban’s first Letter to Gondomar
into Spain.
Mareh 28th, 1623.

220

OF THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

AccounTING myself born for the use of mankind, and
judging the case of the common weal to be one of those
things which are of public right, and like water or air lie
open to all; I sought what might be of most advantage to
men, and deliberated what I was most fitted for by nature.
I discovered that nothing is of such estimation towards
the human race, as the invention and earnest of new things
and arts, by which man’s life is adorned. For I perceive
that, even in old times among rude men, the inventors and
teachers of things rude were consecrated and chosen into
the number of the gods, and I noted that the deeds of
heroes who built cities, or were legislators, or exercised
just authority, or subdued unjust dominations, were eir-
cumscribed by the narrownesses of places and times. But
the invention of things, though it be a matter of less pomp,
I esteemed more adapted for universality and eternity.
Yet above all, if any bring forth no particular invention,
though of much utility, but kindleth a light in nature,
which from the very beginning illuminates the regions of
things, which lie contiguous to things already invented,
afterwards being elevated, lays open and brings to view all
the abstrusest things, he seems to me a propagator of the
empire of man over the universe, a defender of liberty, a
conqueror of necessities. But I found myself constructed
more for the contemplations of truth than for aught else,
as having a mind sufficiently mobile for recognizing (what
is most of all) the similitude of things, and sufficiently
fixed and intent for observing the subtleties of differences,
and possessing love of investigation, patience in doubting,
pleasure in meditating, delay in asserting, facility in re-
turning to wisdom, and neither affecting novelty, nor
admiring antiquity, and hating all imposture. Wherefore
I judged my nature to have a kind of familiarity and rela-
tionship with truth. Yet seeing by rank and education
I was trained to civil affairs, and, like a youth, sometimes
staggered in my opinions, and conceived I owed my country
something peculiar and not equally pertaining to all other
parts, and hoped, if I obtained any honourable degree in

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. pad |

the commonwealth, to perform with greater help of inge-
nuity and industry what I had intended, I both learnt
civil arts, and with all ingenuousness and due modesty
commended myself to my friends who had some power.
And in addition to this, because those things of whatever
kind penetrate not beyond the condition and culture of this
life, the hope occurred that I, born in no very prosperous
state of religion, might, if called to civil offices, contribute
somewhat to the safety of souls. But when my zeal was
imputed to ambition, and my age was matured, and my
disordered health also admonished me of my unhappy
slowness, and I next considered that I nowise fulfilled my
duty, while I was neglecting that by which I could through
myself benefit men, and applying myself to the things
which depended upon the will of another, I altogether
weaned myself from those thoughts, and wholly betook
myself to this work according to my former principle. Nor
is my resolution diminished, by foreseeing the state of
these times, a sort of declination and ruin of the learning
which. is now in use; for although I dread not the incur-
sions of barbarians (unless perhaps the empire of Spain
should strengthen itself, and oppress and debilitate others
by arms, itself by the burden), yet from civil wars (which
on account of certain manners, not long ago introduced,
seem to me about to visit many countries), and the malig-
nity of sects, and from these compendiary artifices and
cautions which here crept into the place of learning, no
less a tempest seems to impend over letters and science.
Nor can the shop of the typographer suffice for these
evils. And that unwarlike learning, which is nourished
by ease, and flourishes by praise and reward, which sus-
tains not the vehemency of opinion, and is the sport of
artifices and impostures, is overcome by the impediments
which I have mentioned. Far different is the nature of
the knowledge, whose dignity is fortified by utility and
operation. And from the injuries of time [ am almost
secure; but for the injuries of men I am not concerned.
For should any say that I savour things too high, I reply
simply, in civil affairs there is place for modesty, in con-
templations for truth. But if any one require works im-
mediately, I say, without any imposture, that I, a man not
old, frail in health, involved in civil studies, coming to the
obscurest of all subjects without guide or light, have done
enough, if I have constructed the machine itself and the
fabric, though I may not have employed or moved it.

222 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

And with the same candour, I profess that the legitimate
interpretation of nature, in the first ascent before arriving
at a certain degree of generals, should be kept pure and
separate from all application to works. Moreover, I know
that all those who have in some measure committed them-
selves to the waters of experience, seeing they were infirm
of purpose, or desirous of ostentation, have at the entrance
unreasonably sought pledges of .works, and have thence
been confounded and shipwrecked. But if any requires
at least particular promises, let him know that by that
knowledge which is now in use, men are not skilled enough
even for wishing. But, what is of less moment, should
any of the politicians whose custom it is from personal
calculations to estimate every thing, or from examples of
like endeavours to form conjecture, presume to interpose
his judgment in a matter of this sort, I would have told
that ancient saying, “ claudus in via, cursorem extra viam
antevertit,” and not to think about examples since the
matter is without example. But the method of publishing
these things is, to have such of them as tend to seize the
correspondencies of dispositions, and purge the areas of
minds given out to the vulgar and talked of; to have the
rest handed down with selection and judgment. Nor am
I ignorant that it is a common and trite artifice of impos-
tors, to keep apart from the vulgar certain things which
are nothing better than the impertinencies they set forth
to the vulgar. But without any imposture from sound
providence, I foresee that this formula of interpretation,
and the inventions made by it, will be more vigorous and
secure when contained within legitimate and chosen de-
vices. Yet I undertake these things at the risk of others.
For none of those things which depend upon externals
concern me. Nor do [ hunt after fame, or, like the
heretics, take delight in establishing a sect ; and, to receive
any private emolument from so great an undertaking, I
hold to be both ridiculous and base. Sufficient for me is
the consciousness of desert, and the very accomplishment

itself of things, which even fortune cannot withstand.
W. G. G,

223

THE MASCULINE BIRTH OF TIME;

OR, THE GREAT INSTAURATION OF MAN’S DOMINION
OVER THE UNIVERSE,

To God the Father, God the Word, God the Holy Ghost,
I address my most humble and ardent prayers, that mind-
ful of the miseries of man, and of this pilgrimage of life, of
which the days are few and evil, they would open up yet
new sources of refreshment from the fountains of good, for
the alleviation of our sorrows; and also, that things divine
may not in this be prejudiced by things human, nor from
the opening up of the passages of sense, and the kindling
of greater natural light, any infidelity or darkness may
arise ‘in our minds towards the mysteries of God: but
rather that, by the understanding cleansed and purified
from fantastic and vain ideas, yet wholly submissive and
subjected to the divine oracles, those things which are of
faith may be rendered to faith. ok Wee Ge

TRANSLATION OF THE MASCULINE BIRTH OF TIME.

OR, THREE BOOKS CONCERNING
THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE,

1, The Purification and Application of the Mind.
2. The Light of Nature, or Method of Interpretation.
3. Nature illuminated, or the Truth of Things.

C. I. Legitimate Mode of Statement.

I find, my son, that men in showing forth, and no less in
concealing the knowledge which they think they have ac-
quired, have not acted in a spirit of good faith and of duty.
No less mischievous, though perhaps less shameful, is the
error of those, who, with good intentions but little wisdom,
are ignorant of the art and rules proper for setting forth
their several subjects. We do not intend, however, to
begin a complaint of either this perversity or ignorance in
the expounders of knowledge. Had they, by unskilful

294 MASCULINE BIRTH OF TIME.

teaching, broken down the weight of the subjects taught,
it might, no doubt, have been matter of just indignation.
But in teaching inaptitude, it was natural to expect absur-
dity. I, however, far different from such instructors, intend
to impart to you not fictions of imagination or shadows of
words, not a mixture of religion, not certain common-place
observations, or certain well known experiments adjusted
to conformity with fanciful theories, but to bind and place
at your command nature with her offspring about her; and
can this be supposed a theme fit to be debased by preten-
sion or unskilfulness, or other defective treatment. So
may I exist, my son, and so may I extend the now de-
plorably narrow limits of man’s dominion over the universe
to the permitted boundaries (which is the only object of
my prayers among human things), as I shall disclose to
you these things with the fullest conviction, with the
deepest forecast of my mind, and after the profoundest
research into the present state of knowledge, in the method
of all others the most legitimate. ‘ And what,” you will
say, “is this legitimate method? Have done with artifice
and circumlocution; show me the naked truth of your
design, that I may be able to form a judgment for myself.”
I would, my dearest son, that matters were in such a state
with you as to render this possible. Do you suppose that
when all the entrances and passages to the minds of all
men are infested and obstructed with the darkest idols,
and these deep seated and burnt in, as it were, into their
substance, that clear and smooth spaces can be found for
receiving the true and natural rays of objects? A new
process must be instituted, by which to insinuate ourselves
into minds so entirely obstructed. For as the delusions of
the insane are removed by art and ingenuity, but aggra-
vated by violence and opposition, so must we adapt our-
selves here to the universal insanity. What? do even
those less difficult requisites pertaining to the legitimate
method of delivering knowledge, appear to you such light
and easy matters? That it be ingenuous, that is, afford
no handle or occasion for error; that it have a certain native
and inseparable quality, both to conciliate belief, and repel
the injuries of time, so that the knowledge so delivered,
like a vigorous and healthy plant, may daily shoot and
thrive; that it appear to place itself in, and adapt itself to
the situation of its proper and reasonable reader. Whether
I shall show in the sequel all these qualities or not, I
appeal to futurity. W. G: G.

rey Sealers mae,

THE HISTORY AND FIRST INQUISITION OF
SOUND AND HEARING,

AND TOUCHING THE FORM OF SOUND, AND THE SECRET
PROCESS OF SOUND; OR THE WOOD OF
SOUND AND HEARING.

Or the generation of sound, and the first percussion.

Of the lasting of sound, and of the perishing and extinc-
tion of sounds.

Of the confusion and perturbation of sounds.

Of the accessory aids and impediments of sounds.

Of the stay of sound, and the diversity of mediums.

Of the penetration of sounds.

Of the carriage of sounds, and their direction or spread-
ing, and of the area which sound fills, together and
severally.

Of the variety of the bodies, which yield sound; and
the instruments ; and of the species of sounds which occur.

Of the multiplication, majoration, diminution, and frac-
tion of sounds.

Of the repercussion of sounds, and echo.

Of the consent and dissents of audibles and visibles, and
of other, so called, spiritual species.

Of the quickness of the generation and extinction of
sound, and the time in which they are effected.

Of the affinity or non-aflinity which sound hath with
the motion, local and perceptible, of the air in which it is
carried.

Of the communication of the air percussed and elided,
with the ambient air, and bodies, or their spirits.

Of the forming or articulation of sound.

Of the very impression of sounds upon the sense.

Of the organ of hearing, and its disposition and indis-
position, helps, and hindrances.

The inquiry into sound and hearing I have thought well
forthwith to set on foot; for it advantageth the under-
VOL. XV. 9

226 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

standing, and, as it were, makes matter of its health, that
the contemplations of the spiritual species, as they call
them, and of operations at distance, be mixed with the
contemplation of those things, which work by communi-
cation only of the substance to the touch. Again, the
observations concerning sounds have brought forth to us
the art of music. But it is customary, and as it were
invariable, when trials and observations have grown into
art, that the mathematic and practic is pursued, the physic
is left. Moreover, optic fareth some whit better; for not
only the art of painting and beauty and symmetry are
propounded unto optic, but the contemplation of all visibles ;
but unto music, only musical tones. Therefore we do in-
quire of sounds.

OF THE GENERATION OF SOUND, AND THE FIRST
PERCUSSION.

The. collision, or elision, as they speak, meaning thereby
some section or cutting of the air, which they will have to
be the cause of sound, imports neither the form, nor the
secret process of sound, but is a term of ignorance and
superficial contemplation.

Sound is diffused and moves with so small an impulse
in its generation; also so far, and that in round, not much
depending on the first direction; withal so smoothly, with-
out any evident motion, found either by flame, or by
feathers and straws, or in any other manner; that it seems
altogether hard that the form of sound should be any
cutting, or local and perceptible motion of the air, how-
soever this may hold the part of the efficient.

For that sound is so suddenly generated, and straight-
way dies, it seems necessary that either its generation do a
little thrust the air from its nature, and its perishing restore
it, as in the compressions of waters, whereas a body cast
into the water makes many circles in the waters, that come
of the water at first compressed, afterward restoring itself
into its proper consistence and dimension (which we have
used to call the motion of liberty); or that, contrariwise,
the generation of sound be an impression pleasant and
kindly, that winneth upon the air, and whereunto the air
freely stirreth itself, and that its extinction be from some
enmity, which suffers not the air longer to enjoy that agi-
tation and impression; as in the generation of the very
body of flame, wherein the generation of the flame appears

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 297

to be made with alacrity, but by the air and other environing
adversaries presently to be destroyed.

The whistling, which is made by the mouth without use
of a whistle, may be effected by sucking in of the breath
toward the inner parts of the mouth, not only by expelling
of the breath outwards; and clearly all sucking of the air
inwards gives a sound, which seems exceeding worthy of
remark: because the sound is generated against the per-
ceptible motion of the air, so as the first impulsion of the
air appears plainly to be the remote efficient and no part
of the form of sound.

In like manner, if there be an egg of glass taken, and
the air through a small hole forcibly sucked out; then the
hole stopped with wax, and it be laid by for a time; if
afterwards the wax be removed from the hole, you shall
hear plainly the hissing of the air entering into the egg,
being drawn to wit by the inner air, after forcible rarefac-
tion, restoring itself. So as in this trial also, sound is
generated contrarily to the perceptible motion of the air.

In like manner, in the toy that is called a jew’s-harp,
holding the sides betwixt the teeth, the little tongue of
iron is drawn outwards and jarred, when it flies back
inwards against the air that is in the mouth, and thence is
a sound created.

And in these three trials it may not be doubted but that
sound is generated by the percussion of the air inwards
towards the mouth on the egg of glass.

Sound is generated by percussions. The percussion is
either of air against air, or of an hard body against the air,
or of an hard body against an hard body.

The instance of the percussion of air against air chiefly
prevails in the human voice, and in the voices of birds and
of other animals; next in musical wind instruments; also
in ordnance, greater and less, where the percussion that
gives the sound is generated chiefly by the percussion of
the confined air that issues from the mouth of the piece
against the outer air; for the bullet wherewith it is charged
makes not much to the noise. Neither is the percussion
of a soft body against a soft body only seen in the percus-
sion of air against air, but also of air against flame, as in
the raising of a flame with bellows; also flames amongst
themselves, when one drives another, yield a certain roaring;
but whether the air assist here may be further inquired.
Also, all flame that suddenly taketh, if it be of any great-
ness, makes a sound, rather as I think in displacing of the

228 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

air than of itself. Also in eruptions, there is percussion
made of the spirit breaking out against the air adjacent ;
as in the cracklings made by dry leaves, or bay salt, and
many other things, when cast into the fire; and in thunder,
either by the spirit breaking out from the cloud, or wal-
lowing and tossed to and fro, as in the more hollow and
lengthened rolling of thunder; also we see in sport that a
fresh rose leaf gathered together so as it shall contain air,
and struck upon the back of the hand or upon the forehead,
cracks by eruption of the air.

Instances of the percussion of an hard body against the
air are seen in musical stringed instruments ; in the whist-
ling of an arrow, as it flies through the air; in the beating
of the air, although it strike not any hard body; also, in
regals their sound 1s given by the air striking against water,
in the pipe they call the nightingale-pipe, which gives a
sound continually tumbling; in water agitated and restoring
itself again; and in the toys wherewith children please
themselves (they call them cocks) in imitating of the voices
of birds, likewise in other hydraulics.

Instances of the percussion of an hard body against an
hard body are found either simply, or with communication
of some air inclosed beside that air, which is cut or elided
between the hard bodies percussed ; simply, as in all ham-
mering or knocking of hard bodies, with communication of
air penned in, as in bells and drums.

A stone cast forcibly into the water gives a sound; as
do the drops of rain falling upon the water, and no less
wave dashing against wave, in which there is percussion
betwixt an hard body and water.

It seemeth to be constant in the generation of all sound,
that there are certain parts of air, and that air is required
between the bodies percussed ; which air, in the percussion
of an hard body against the air, and of an hard body
against an hard body, appears manifestly to be cut or
elided. I judge that flame should suffice for this in the
stead of air, as if in the midst of a great flame a bell should
be rung, or stones knocked together ; but in the percussion
of air against air this elision or separation appears more
dark, but the air seems only to be beaten and driven, and
that in a soft voice, very gently. But it seems, even in
this kind, to need that there be some elision of the air
percussed by the air percussing: for even in air moved by
a fan, the air from the side of the fan, and when air is
blown out of bellows, the blast of air from the mouth,

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 229

divides the other air. But concerning this kind of elision
of the air, which happens when the percussion of air
against air createth sound, as in the voice, let inquiry be
made further.

It is well doubted, whether the percussion that produces
sound, when the air is percussed by a string, or otherwise,
be from the beginning, when the string starting back per-
cusses the air, or a little after, the air to wit being com-
pressed by the first percussion, and thereafter acting the
part, as it were, of an hard body.

When sound is yielded by the percussion of air against
air, it is required that there be an imprisoning or penning
of the air in some concave, as in whistling by the mouth,
in pipes, in the viol, in the voice; which is divided, where
the air is penned in the hollow of the mouth or throat. In
the percussion of an hard body against air is required
hardness of the body and quick motion, and sometimes
communication with a concave, as in the cittern, lute,
beating of the air, &c.; but in the percussion of an hard
body against an hard body, the hollow, or the quick motion,
is less required.

There is a talk of a white gunpowder, which should give
percussion without noise. It is sure that nitre, which is
white, is of great force for expulsion, yet in such wise as
the speedy kindling doth much enhance both the percus-
sion and the noise; but the quick kindling is caused
specially by the coal of willows, which is black. There-
fore if a composition were made of sulphur and nitre, and
a modicum of camphor, it is like that the kindling would
be slower, and the percussion not so jarring and sharp;
whence much might be diminished of the sound, but with
loss too in the strength of the percussion. To be further
inquired.

OF THE LASTING OF SOUND, AND ITS PERISHING AND
EXTINCTION.

The lasting of the sound of a bell that is struck, or of a
string which seems to be prolonged, and graduaily to fade,
comes not rightly of the first percussion, but the trembling
of the body percussed generates in the air continually new
sound. For if that trembling be checked, and the bell or
string stayed, the sound quickly dies; as in virginals,
where if the quill be dropped so that it touch the string
the sound ceases.

230 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

A bell hanging in the air gives a far louder and more
enduring sound if it be chimed upon with an hammer on
the outside, than if it stood fixed, and were in like manner
chimed upon with an hammer. And of the more enduring
sound the reason is rendered already, because it trembleth
longer. But that even the first sound in the hanging bell
is more resounding, in the standing less would be further
inquired.

Likewise a drinking cup of silver or of glass that is
fillipped, if it be left alone, gives a sound louder and more
lasting; but if the foot of the cup be steadied with the
other hand, a far duller, and of shorter stay.

The sound which is yielded in the viol or cittern is
plainly not made by the percussion between the finger, or
the quill, and the string, or between the finger, or the quill,
and the air, but by the finger impelling, and thereafter the
string flying back, and in that recoil percussing the air.
Therefore when the string is moved with a bow, not by the
finger, or a quill, the sound can be continued at. pleasure,
through the roughness of the string of the bow, which is a
little smeared with rosin; whence it slides not on the
string, nor once strikes it, but holds and continually tor-
tureth it, out of which motion the sound is maintained.

It can be taken for an argument that sound is manifestly
some kind of local motion in the air, that it so suddenly
fails; because, in all cutting or impulsion of the air, the
air quite recovers and restores itself, which also water doth
through many circles, albeit not so speedily as the air.

OF THE CONFUSION AND PERTURBATION OF SOUNDS.

In the act of sight, visibles from one part impede not
visibles from other parts; but all the visibles which offer
themselves from every part, lands, waters, woods, the sun,
buildings, men, are at once represented to the eyes. But
if so many voices or sounds did at once issue from several
parts, the hearing should be plainly confounded, nor might
distinctly perceive them.

The greater sound confoundeth the less, that it should
not be heard; but spiritual species, as they speak of a
diverse kind from sound, confuse not sound, but altogether
and at once hang in the air, the one little or nothing
troubling the other; as light, or colour, heat and cold,
smells, magnetic virtues; all these together can hang in
the air, nor yet do greatly hinder or disturb sounds.

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 231

The cause wherefore many visibles are at once repre-
sented unto the eyes, the one not confounding the other,
would seem to be none other but this: that visibles are not
seen except in a right line, but sounds are heard even in a
line oblique, or arcuate. Therefore as many objects, in
the area of the sphere of sight, as are conveyed, there be
so many cones of beams, nor ever one cone doth coincide
with another; neither do the vertices of the cones meet in
the same point, because they are carried by right lines.
But sounds, which are carried by lines both right and -
arcuate, can meet easily in one point, and so are confused.
The same seemeth to be the cause wherefore a more bright
colour drowns not a more dim colour ; nevertheless a greater
light obscures and hides a weaker light, because light is
perceived in an arched line, like as sound. For although
the very flame of a candle be not seen except in a right
line, yet does the light that is every where spread round
attain to the sight in lines, arched in respect of the body of
the candle: the like is the case of the sun, or flame. Now
if it be objected that neither is light itself seen except in a
right line from air illuminated, it is true; but I think that
this as well happens to sound: for neither is sound heard
unless in right lines from some part of the sphere of sound,
whither the first pulsation arrives. But colour, which is
nothing other than the image unequally reflected of the
light, spreadeth around so weak species, that it little or
nothing tinges the air adjacent, unless where the colours
are conveyed in right lines between the object and the eye.

Let there be a trial made with a double recorder, in
which let there be two fipples, at each end one, so as they
may be played in unison: the hollow pipe being of a.
double length, and continued in one, let two together play
the same tune at either end, and let it be noted whether the
sound be confused, or amplified, or dulled.

Let there be two hollow trunks taken, and joined toge-
ther crosswise, so as they shall open the one into the other,
in the place where they are joined; and let two speak into
the direct and transverse trunk, and let the ears of two be
in like manner applied to the opposite ends, and observe
whether the voices confuse one another. —

232 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

OF THE ACCESSORY AIDS AND IMPEDIMENTS OF SOUND;
OF -FHE STAY. OF SOUND; AND THE: DIVERSITY .OF
MEDIUMS.

I remember in a chamber in Cambridge that was some-
thing ruinous, that a pillar of iron was erected for a prop,
of the thickness perhaps of a thumb’s breadth and an half;
and that this pillar, being struck with a stick or otherwise,
made a little flat noise in the chamber wherein the pillar
stood, but in the chamber beneath a resounding boom.

To inquire, which bodies, and of what solidity and
thickness, altogether debar and shut out sound; as, also,
which more or less dull, although they intercept it not
wholly. For as yet is it not known which mediums inter-
posed be more propitious, which more adverse. Therefore
let there be trial made in gold, stone, glass, cloth, water,
oil, and of the thickness of each. MHereof is all need to
inquire further.

Air is the aptest, and, as it were, the sole medium of
sound. Again, the moister air (I judge) better conveyeth
sound than the drier; but in a fog what happeneth I
remember not. Also the night air better than by day;
but this can be ascribed to the silence.

Inquire touching the medium of flame, what its opera-
tion shall be in respect of sound; whether, to wit, a flame
of some thickness altogether stop and intercept sound, or
at least deaden it more than the air. This can be seen in
bonfires.

Also to inquire concerning the medium of air vehemently
agitated. For although wind carry sound, yet I deem that
any vehement wind doth somewhat trouble sound, so as it
shall be heard less far, even with the wind, than in still
weather, of which let there be more inquiry made.

To see what sound brass or iron, red hot, yields, struck
with a hammer, compared to that which it gives cold.

OF THE PENETRATION OF SOUNDS.

The aétites, or eagle stone, hath like a kernel or yolk of
the stone, which being shaken makes a flat sound; so an
hawk’s bell [stopped], but a much clearer if there be a
chink.

Let inquiry be made of divers, if they hear at all under
water, especially that is of any deepness; and let this be |

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 235

distinctly inquired, not only whether they hear any sound
at all from above, which is made in the air, but also,
whether they hear the percussion of the body of the water
within the water, where no air is. I have made thts trial
in a bath; a pail of a good size with the mouth turned
over was, in such wise, pressed evenly down, as it carried
the air fairly down with it, in its hollow, below the water,
to the depth of an hand breadth; and in this manner the
pail was held down with the hands, that it should not
overturn nor rise: then a diver put his head within the
pail, and did speak: his voice was heard, speaking; and
even his speech was articulately distinguished, but wonder-
fully shrill, and almost like a whistling, as the voice useth
to be heard in a play of puppets.

Let it be exactly inquired, so as it be clearly rendered
positive whether sound can be generated, except there be
air betwixt the percussing and the percussed body. | As, if
two pebbles hanging by a string be let down into a basin
of water, or a river, and shaken, so as they shall strike
together in the midst of the water; or let an open pair of
tongs be thrust down into the water, and there knapped ;
and let it be noted whether they give a sound, and what.
I do suppose that divers, in swimming, make no noise
under the water; unless there may perchance be some, by
the succession of motion unto the surface of the water, and
the water thence striking the air.

There is no doubt but in bladders tied, and not quite
full, and shaken, there is a sound given, namely, of the
liquor contained in them, and no less a sound is given on
letting down a stone into water, when it strikes the bottom
of the vessel. But in the former trial air is intermingled ;
in the second, the percussion of the bottom of the vessel
by the stone communicates with the air without the vessel.
But after the first percussion it needeth not that there be
air intermediate through the whole area of the sphere
deferent ; for that is shewn by the trial of one speaking in
a pail under the water, where part of the deferent from the
water is not air, but the wood of the pail, and the water;
whence the sound is sharpened, and minished, and lost.

But because it is manifest that sound passes through
and penetrates hard bodies (as potters’ earth and glass);
and ‘it is also most certain (although hitherto concealed
from men’s observation) that there is, in every tangible
body, some pneumatical part, besides the gross parts inter-
mixed, it is to be considered whether penetration of sound

234 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

of this kind come not thence, for that the pneumatical or
aerial parts of the tangible body communicate with the
outer air.

Take a vessel of silver, and another of wood, full of
water; take a pair of iron tongs, and knap them in the
water in the vessels, at the distance of a thumb’s breadth,
perhaps, or more, from the bottom: you shall hear the
sound of the tongs knapped in the vessel of silver much
more resounding than in the wooden one. Whereas if the
two vessels were empty, and you knapped the tongs at the
same distance, there should be little difference or none.
Whence it appears, first, that where is no air that can be
elided, but only water, sound is given; next, that the sound
given by the percussion communicates better with the
vessel through water than through air. The mouth being
close shut, there is made a murmur (such as dumb persons
use to make) by the throat; if the nostrils likewise be fast
closed, no murmur can be made. Whence it appears, that
that sound by the throat is not effected, unless through
the opening which lies between the throat and the nostrils.

OF THE CARRIAGE OF SOUNDS, AND THEIR DIRECTION
OR SPREADING; AND OF THE AREA WHICH SOUND
FILLS, TOGETHER AND SEVERALLY.

All sound is diffused in a sphere from the place of the
percussion, and fills the whole area of this sphere to a
certain limit, upwards, downwards, sideways, and every
way.

Throughout this orb the sound is loudest close to the
stroke; thence, in the proportion of the distance, it grows
more faint, until it vanishes. The limits of this sphere
are extended some little by reason of the quickness of
hearing; yet is there something uttermost, whither, to the
most delicate sense, sound reaches not.

There is something, I think, in the direction of the first
impulsion; for, if a man should stand in an open pulpit in
the fields, and shout, the voice, I judge, should be further
heard forwards from the speaker than behind. So if ord-
nance, or an harquebuss be discharged, I judge that the
sound shall be further heard before the ordnance or harque-
buss than behind it.

Whether there be any thing in the ascension of sound
upwards, or in the descension of sound downwards, which
may further sound, or make it cease nearer, doth not

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 235

appear. The sound is indeed well heard, if one speak from
a high window or turret, by those who stand upon the
ground; and contrariwise, being uttered by those that
stand upon the ground from the window or turret, but by
whether more easily, or further off, let better mquiry be
made.

Pulpits are used for speaking in assemblies, and generals
did usually speak standing upon mounds of sods; yet is it
in no wise hence confirmed that sound easilier descends
than it rises, since the cause hereof may be the liberty of
the air in the higher place, not thronged or hindered, as
below amongst the crowd, but not the readier motion down-
wards. Therefore let not the contemplation stay in this
instance, but let a trial be made where other things are
equal.

‘the power of the sound is received whole in every part
of the air, not the whole in the whole air, unless where the
opening or passage is exceedingly straight. For if one stand
in any place utterly closed, so as the sound may not pene-
trate at all, and that in any part soever of a sphere of
sound, and there be a small opening made, the articulate
voice shall enter through that opening, and in fine through
as many openings as you shall chuse to make through the
whole round of the sphere of sound; so as it is manifest
that that whole articulation of sound is conveyed entire in
these minutest parts of the air, not less than if the air were
at large on every side.

It is, however, to be observed whether sound proceeding
from the greater pulsations of the air (such as are made by
the discharge of ordnance) become not more exile when
they enter by those small apertures ; for it may be that the
subtilities of sound shall enter unconfused, but the whole
crash, or roar, not so well.

The rays of visible bodies do not strike the sense, unless
they be conveyed through the medium in straight lines,
and the interposition of any opaque, in a right line, inter-
cepts the sight, although every thing else be on all sides
wholly open. But sound, if there be a dilation or passage,
whether by arching over, or by inverted arching downwards,
or laterally, or even by winding, perishes not, but arrives.
Nevertheless, I judge that sound is more strongly carried
in straight lines, betwixt the pulsations and the ear, and
that by its archings and windings it is somewhat broken,
as if there be a wall betwixt the speaker and the hearer, I
think that the voice shall not be so well heard as if the

236 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

wall were away. I judge too, that if the speaker or the
hearer be placed at a little distance from the wall, the voice
shall be better heard than nigh unto the wall, because the
arching so much the less departs from a right line. But
this also would be further inquired.

If the ear be laid to the one end of any tube or long
hollow trunk, and a voice speak softly at the other opening
of the tube, such a voice shall be heard, which, being as
softly spoken in the air at large, should not arrive, nor be
heard. Whence it is clear, that that confining of the air
helps to the conveying of the voice, without confusion.

It is also a common opinion, that, other things being
equal, the voice is better heard within doors than abroad ;
but whether the voice be better heard when the ear is out
of doors, and the voice within the house; or contrariwise,
when the voice is out of doors, and the ear within the
house, may be further inquired; albeit herein also the
opinion is received, that what is abroad is better heard
within doors, than what is within, abroad.

It is common to hearing and sight, and indeed, in a
certain measure, to the other senses, that the attention of
the perceiving mind, and express direction to perceiving,
helps somewhat to perceiving, as when one looks stead-
fastly, or (as they say) pricks his ears.

Sounds are not carried so far, articulate and distinct,
as their species, and a confused coil of them; for the hum
of voices can be heard where the articulate words them-
selves are not heard; and a confused tinkling of music,
when the harmony itself or tune is not heard.

Sound is preserved, at the best, in a hollow trunk.
Therefore let there be taken a hollow trunk of a good
length, and let it be put out from the window of a lower
chamber; let one speak by thrusting of his head out of
the window, at one end of the trunk, as softly as ever he
may; let another lay his ear to the other end of the trunk,
standing below upon the ground: let this be done in like-
wise reversely, by speaking from below, and laying to of
the ear above, and from this trial let a judgment be made,
whether the voice ascend or descend more easily, or even
alike. They deliver for certain, that there be some places
and buildings so vaulted, that if one stand in a certain
part of the chamber, and speak, he can be better heard at
some distance than near.

All harmony appeareth to sound somewhat fuller and
deeper at a little remoteness from the place of the sound

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 237

than near: so as something should seem to happen to
hearing about sound, like as happeneth to sight about
visible species, that some removal from the organ of the
sense furthereth the perception of the sense. But in
that opinion may be twofold error. First, because in the
act of sight there be, perhaps, beams required from the
object to the pupil, which there cannot be where the object
toucheth the pupil, which between the hearing and the
sound is not required. But much rather, because to seeing
is light needed. But an object touching the pupil inter-
cepts the light; whereas nothing of this kind befalls to
hearing. And in the second place, because to sight there
needeth not always a medium: forasmuch as, in the re-
moving of cataracts of the eyes, the little silver needle
wherewith the cataracts are removed, even when it moveth
upon the pupil within the coat of the eye, is excellently
seen.

In objects of sight, if the eye be placed in the dark, and
the object in the light, it shall do well; but if the object
be placed in the dark, and the eye in the light, you shall
not see. So if a thin veil or net work be cast over the
eyes, the object is well seen; if upon the object, it con-
founds sight. And albeit, that perhaps neither of these
agreeth to sound and hearing, yet may they advertise us
that trials be made, whether the ear set against the hollow
trunk, if the sound be made at a distance in the air at
large, or conversely, the sound be produced at the hollow
trunk, the ear being placed at a distance in the air at
large, favour more the perception of the sense.

OF THE VARIETY OF THE BODIES WHICH YIELD SOUND;
AN DATE INSTRUMENTS :c, AND OFF HE: SPECIES: OF
SOUNDS WHICH OCCUR.

The kinds of sounds appear to receive such a division:
loud, soft, sharp or treble, base ; musical, unmusical ; inte-
rior or whispering, exterior or sounding; simple, com-
pounded, original, reflected ; so as they are divisions six.

The stronger the first pulsation shall be, and the dilation
the more free, and without let, the greater is the sound
given: the weaker the percussion, and more disturbed the
dilation, the less.

Treble sounds are carried as far, and perchance farther
than, base. Let this be better inquired.

238 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

Accordingly as the concave of a bell shall be greater, it
giveth a baser sound ; the less, the more treble.

The bigger a string, the baser sound it shall yield; the
less, the more treble.

A string, the more tightly strained, the more treble
sound shall it yield; the looser, the baser: so as a little
bigger string more tightly strained and a less more slackly
shall give the same note.

In trumpets, in like wise, in flutes, horns, and recorders,
pipes, also in the mouth of a man whistling, the more
narrow and strait they are, they give the more treble
sound; the wider, or more open, the baser.

In flutes, the air, issuing by an hole nearer the breath,
yields a more treble sound; by one more distant, a baser:
so a little bigger flute by the nearer hole, and a smaller by
the more removed, may give the same note.

In some stringed instruments (as in the viol, citterns,
and the like) men have found a skill for the straining of
the strings, beyond the first straining, so as compressing
them with the fingers lower down or higher up, they strain
them to the alteration of the note.

If a drinking-cup of glass or silver be taken and fillipped,
if the water stand higher in the cup, and the cup be fuller,
it will give a more treble sound ; if lower, and the cup be
more empty, a baser.

In an hollow pipe, such as they use for shooting of birds,
if one whistle with the mouth, setting the mouth to one
end of the tube, the sound is dulled, truly, to the by-
stander; but if the ear be laid to the other end, it gives a
most sharp sound, so as it shall hardly be borne.

Let there be a trial made, with a trunk, in the part where
the ear is laid, narrow, in the part where the mouth is set,
wider, and conversely; whether the sound be rendered
more treble or baser, after the manner of mirrors, which
contract or enlarge the objects of sight.

OF THE MULTIPLICATION, MAJORATION, DIMINUTION,
AND FRACTION OF SOUND.

It would be seen in what, how, way, manner, sound can
be artificially magnified and multiplied. Mirrors do effect
both in sight. Now the sudden reflexion of sound seems
to turn to augmentation: for if the voice and echo be
yielded together, need is that the sound be not distin-

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 239

guished, but magnified. Therefore sounds upon rivers are
greater, the water resounding and blending itself with the
original sound.

I have also noted that when a round-house is made in
water-conduits, then a long vault, and then a greater
chamber (such as is to be seen in the fields by Charing
Cross near London), if you cry at the window or slit of the
round-house, and one stand by the window of the greater
chamber, a far more fearful roaring is heard than by one
standing where the cry is made.

I bethink me that in the play of puppets, the speaking
is such as it is heard distinctly, but far sharper and more
exile than in the air at large; as happens in mirrors that
render letters far smaller than they are in the ordinar
medium: so as sound appears plainly possible by art to be
both amplified and rendered more exile.

Children hold the horn of a bent bow betwixt their teeth,
and with an arrow strike the string, whence is produced a
more resounding sound, and a far greater boom, than if the
bow were not held in the teeth; which they ascribe to the
consent which the bones of the teeth have with the bone of
hearing ; since, conversely also, by a certain harsh sound
in the hearing, the teeth too be set on edge.

In like manner, let a lance touch the wood of the belly
of an harp, especially of the hole in it at the hollow end,
and be held with the teeth at the other end, and the har
struck ; the sound is made greater by taking hold with the
teeth, that is to say, to him that so taketh hold.

It is most assured (however unnoted) that the force,
which after the first percussion carries on balls, or arrows,
or darts, and the like, is situated in the minute parts of the
body discharged, and not in the air continually carrying it,
like a boat in the water. This being premised, it may be
considered whether sound might not be lessened in ord-
nance or an harquebuss, without much weakening of the
percussion, in this manner. Let there be an harquebuss
made with a barrel of a pretty strength, so as it break not
easily ; in the barrel let there be four or five holes made,
not like chinks, but round, about the middle of the barrel.

The percussion hath already gotten its force, excepting so
far as by reason of the length of the barrel it may be

increased ; but the percussion of the air at the mouth of
the harquebuss, which generates the sound, will be much

‘attenuated by the emission of sound through those holes in

240 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

the middle of the barrel, before that the air inclosed arrive
at the mouth of the harquebuss. Therefore it is probable
that the sound and boom shall by many parts be dimi-
nished.

OF THE REPERCUSSION OF SOUNDS AND ECHO.

The repercussion of sounds (which we call echo) can be
taken for an argument that sound is not a local motion of
the air; for if it were, the repercussion should be made in
manner conformable to the original, as happens in all cor-
poreal repercussions. But in sound, wherein such an exact
generation is required, as in the voice, which hath so many
organs, and in musical instruments, which be curiously
framed, the things which yield the repercussed sound have
nothing such, but are merely rude, having almost nothing
save this, that sound passes not through them.

OF THE CONSENTS AND DISSENTS OF AUDIBLES AND VISI-
BLES, AND OF OTHER SO CALLED SPIRITUAL SPECIES.

They agree in these:

Both are diffused in a spherical compass or orb, and fill
the whole area of that sphere, and are carried to very distant
spaces, and wax faint by degrees, according to the distance
of the object, then vanish. Both carry their figurations
and differences into minute portions of their orb, entire and
unconfused, so as they are perceived through small crannies
no otherwise than in an open place.

Both are of exceedingly sudden and swift generation and
dilation, and conversely they are extinguished, and perish
suddenly and quickly.

Both take and convey minute and exquisite differences,
as of colours, figures, motions, distances, in visibles; of
articulate voices, of musical tones, and of their swift changes
and trepidation, in audibles.

Both, in their virtue and force, appear neither to emit
any corporeal substance into their mediums or their orb,
nor even to give forth or provoke a local perceptible motion
in their mediums, but to convey certain spiritual species,
of which the nature and manner is unknown.

Both appear to be not generative of any other virtue or
quality beside their proper virtue, and so far to work,
being else barren.

Both in their proper action appear, as if corporeally, to

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 241

work three things. The first, that the stronger object
drowns and confounds the weaker; as the light of the
sun, the light of a candle, the report of ordnance, the
voice. The second, that the more excellent object destroys
the weaker sense; as the light of the sun, the eye, a violent
sound close at the ear, the hearing. The third, that both
are repercussed, as in mirrors and the echo.

Neither doth the object of the one confound or hinder
the object of the other; as light or colour, sound, or con-
trariwise.

Both affect the sense in animals, and that by objects in
greater or less degrees grateful or odious: but they affect
also after their own manner inanimates proportionate, and
having (as seemeth) a conformity with the organs of the
senses ; as colours, a mirror, that is crystalline like the
eye; sounds, the places of reverberation, which seem, like-
wise, to resemble the bone and cavern of the ear.

Both work diversely, accordingly as they have their
mediums well or ill disposed.

To both the medium the most conducible and a
is the air. In both the stretching of the sense, and, as it
were, its erection to perceiving, availeth somewhat in more
nice objects.

They differ in these:

The species of visibles appear to be as if emissions of
beams from the visible body, almost like odours. But the
species of audibles appear more to partake of a local mo-
tion, like the percussions which are made in the air: that
whereas bodies for the most part work in two manners, by
communication of their nature, or by an impression or
signature of their motion, that diffusion in visibles appeareth
ore to partake of the former manner; in audibles, of the

atter.

The dilation of sounds appears to be more evidently
carried by the air than of visibles. For I judge that a
vehement wind shail not so much hinder any visible afar
off, as a sound ; I understand the wind blowing contrary.

It is a notable difference, whence also many less diffe-
rences flow, that visibles (original light excepted) are not
carried but by right lines, whilst sounds are carried by
arcuate lines.

“Hence it happens, that visibles confound not one another,
that are represented together: sounds contrarily. Hence
it happens, that the solidity of the substance seems not

VOL. XV. R

242 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

greatly to hinder sight, provided only the:positions of the
parts of the body be after a simple order and with straight
passages, as in glass, water, crystal, diamond; but a little
silk or linen cloth breaks the sight, though they be bodies
very thin and porous; but cloths of this kind little or
nothing hinder hearing, which those solids do exceedingly.
Hence it happens, that unto the reverberation of visibles a
small mirror suffices, or like transpicuous body, let: it be
only placed in.a right line, where the visibles pass; but
unto making of the reverberation of echo, it needeth also
to confine the sound from the side, because'it is carried to
all sides. The visible object is further carried, in propor-
tion, than sound.

Visibles, too nearly approached to the eye, are not so
well seen as at some little distance, so as the beams may
meet in a more acute angle; but in hearing, the nearer the
better. But herein there may be twofold error. The first,
because to seeing there is required light; but if the object
be brought very near to the eye, this is shut out. For I
have heard of one trustworthy, which was cured of cata-
racts of the eyes, when the little silver needle moved over
the very pupil of his eye, and did touch it, he without any
medium (that silver needle being far narrower than the
pupil itself of the eye) saw perfectly the needle. The
second, that the cave of the ear is distinctly interposed
before the organ of hearing, so as being without, the sound
is altogether unable to touch the bone and membrane of
hearing.

The species of sight are more swiftly conveyed than
sounds, as appeareth in the flash and report of guns; also
in lightning and thunder, where the thunder is heard after
a while.

I conceive also that the species of sound do hang longer
in the air than visibles. For although neither do these

erish on the instant, as we see in a ring spinning, and
ute-strings fillipped, and in twilight and the like; yet I
deem that sounds, for that they are carried by the wind,
stay longer. ae

The beams of light being gathered, induce heat also,
which is an action diverse from the visible quality. In
like manner, if it be true that shouts have cast down birds
flying over, that is also an action exceedingly diverse from
the audible quality. :

There seemeth not in visibles to be found an object as
odious, and noisome to the sense, as in audibles; but they

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 243

affect it more evenly; for things foul to sight rather offend
by moving of the fancy concerning foul things than of
themselves; but in audibles the grating of a saw that
is sharpened, and other like sounds, cause an horror; and
a discordant note in music is in straightways refused and
loathed.

It is not assured, that there is refraction in sounds, as in
beams. But doubtless sounds do rebound: but that is to
be ascribed to reflexion. For I do not think, if sounds
pass through diverse mediums, as air, cloth, wood, that
there be one place of the sound, where it is carried, another
where it is heard, which is the property of refraction; but
refraction seems to depend upon action, in right lines,
which pertains not to sound.

But contraction of sound, and its dilatation, according to
the disposition of the medium, happens undoubtedly, as in
the speaking of puppets, and under water: the sound is
contracted within that cell, which abroad is dispersed ; as
by mirrors visibles are dilated and contracted.

A tremulous medium (as smoke in visibles) makes the
visible objects also to tremble ; but in sounds nothing such
is yet found, unless perchance the rise and fall, by winds.
For the trembling in the nightingale-pipe is trembling of
the percussion, not of the medium.

Going from great light into the dark, or out of the dark
into light, the sight is some little confused; but whether
the like be after very loud noises, or a great silence, would
be inquired. he

OF THE QUICKNESS OF THE GENERATION, AND EXTINC-
TION OF SOUND, AND THE TIME IN WHICH THEY ARE
EFFECTED.

All sound is exceeding quickly generated, and quickly
perishes. But the swiftness of its motion and of its diffe-
rences, appears a thing not so wonderful. For the motion
of the fingers upon a lute, or of the breath in the pipe or
flute, are found to be exceedingly swift: and the tongue
itself (no very exquisite organ) goes through as many mo-
tions as letters; but that sounds should not only be so
speedily generated but that they should also, by their
momentary force and impression, as it were, suddenly fill
So great space, is matter worthy of the highest admiration.
For instance, a man in the middle of a field speaking aloud
is heard for a quarter of a mile, in a round, and that in

244 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

articulate words, and these hanging in every little portion
of the air, and all in a space of time far less perhaps than
a minute. ; ,

To inquire of the space of time in which sound is con-
veyed. It can be found thus. Let a man stand in a steeple
by night; let another stand in the field, a mile off, per-
haps, or as far as the bell can be heard, and let him have
ready a torch lighted, but covered. Then let him in the
steeple strike the bell: then let the other, who stands in
the plain, as soon as he hears it, lift the torch : in this way,
by the space of time between the striking of the bell and
the seeing of the torch, shall he that stands in the steeple
discover the time of the motion of the sound.

In guns, the flame is seen sooner than the report is
heard, although the flame follow the discharging of the
ball; so as the flash issues later, but sooner strikes the
sense. Whence it is rightly gathered, that the beams
visible are more speedily diffused and arrive than the
species or impressions of sound.

OF THE AFFINITY, OR NON-AFFINITY, WHICH SOUND
HATH WITH THE MOTION, LOCAL AND PERCEPTIBLE,
OF THE AJR IN WHICH IT IS CARRIED.

Sound doth not appear manifestly and actually to shake
and trouble the air, as doth wind; but the motions of
sound appear to be effected by spiritual species; for thus
we must speak, until something more assured shall be
found.

So as I conceive that a very loud sound of one shouting,
at a little distance from the very motion of the breath,
shall scarcely stir any trembling aspen leaf, or straw, or
flame.

But in greater pulsations there is found a very bodily
and actual motion of the air; but whether that proceed
from the motion itself which generates sound, or from a
collateral cause, or some concomitants, appeareth not.
Thunder claps sometimes make glass windows to tremble,
and even walls: I think also that ordnance let off, or
explosions of mines do the same. i é

And I remember, if I mistake not, that there is at King’s
College, in Cambridge, a certain wooden building, in which
there hang bells, and that when the bells ring, it is
shaken, But whatsoever that hidden motion be, which is

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 245

sound, it appears that neither is it engendered without
perceptible motion in the first pulsation, and that again by
the perceptible motion of the air, it is carried or hindered.

A word quietly uttered, which at a distance perhaps of
thirty feet can be heard, will yet hardly stir the flame of a
candle, that is held within a foot of the mouth; whilst
blowing a little strongly with the mouth shall make the
flame to waver, at a much greater distance.

The sound of bells, and the like, comes louder, and goes
off more dully, as the wind blows towards the ear, or
against the sound. The same happens in a shout, which
being utttered against the wind, is not heard so far.

It is delivered, that through vast shouts of numbers

‘applauding and cries of rejoicing, the air has been so

broken or rarefied, that birds flying over have fallen down.
There runs an opinion that the noise of many bells ringing
in populous cities is good against thunder and pestilence.

Some places and buildings are certainly reported to be
so vaulted, that if one speak in them, and (as the report
hath it) against the wall, in one part of the building, his
words shall be better heard at some distance from the
voice than close at hand.

_I have observed, sitting in a coach with one side of the
boot down, and the other up, that a beggar crying on the
closed side of the coach hath seemed to cry on the open
side; so as the voice was plainly repercussed, and went
round, or at the least, whilst it sounded on all sides, it
seemed to be heard on that side, on which it did best reach
the sense. :

If a candle be held to the wind-hole of a drum, and the
drum be beat, the flame is shaken and extinguished. The
same happens in winding of a hunter’s horn, if the candle
be brought near the mouth of the horn, &c.

Even the exquisite differences which sound takes, and
carries them with it, shew that these delicate affections are
not continued local motions. For seals, in a matter fitly
prepared, make exquisite impressions ; so as in the genera-
tion of sound this same, perhaps, might happen. But the
dilation and continuance sort not, especially in liquids: but
those’ exquisite differences we understand of articulate
voices and musical tones. .

But of this matter altogether (videlicet, what relation
and correspondency sound has to the local motion of the
air) let inquiry be more diligently made; not by the way,

246 OF SOUND AND HEARING.

whether? (which sort of question in matters of this kind
has ruined all) but by the way, how far? and that not by
arguments discursive, but by opposite experiments and
crucial instances. _

OF THE COMMUNICATION OF THR AIR PERCUSSED AND
ELIDED WITH THE AMBIENT AIR, AND BODIES, OR
THEIR SPIRITS.

In the striking of a bell, the sound given by chiming
upon the bell with an hammer on the outside, and by the
tongue within, is of the same tone. So that the sound
yielded by the chiming upon the outside, cannot be gene-
rated by the collision of the air, between the hammer and
the outside of the bell, since it is according to the concave
of the bell within. And if it were a flat plate of brass, and
not concave, the sound should, I think, be different. -

If there be a rift in a bell, it gives a hoarse sound, not
pleasant or grateful.

It would be known how the thickness of the percussed
body may affect the sound, and how far forth: as if of the
same concave, one bell should be thicker, another thinner.
I have proved in a bell of gold, that it gave an excellent
sound, nothing worse, yea better, than a bell of silver or of
brass. But money of gold rings not so well as money of
silver.

Empty casks yield a deep and resounding sound, full
ones a dull and dead sound. But in the viol, and the lute,
and other such, although the first percussion be between
the string and the exterior air, yet that air straight com-
municates with the air in the belly, or concave of the viol
or lute. Wherefore in instruments of this kind is ever
some perforation made, that the outward air may commu-
nicate with the confined air, without which the sound
would be dull and dead.

Let there be a trial made of the nightingale-pipe, that it
be filled with oil, and not with water; and let it be noted,
how much softer or more obtuse the sound shall be.

When sound is created between the breath and the per-
cussed air, as in a pipe, or flute, it is yet so produced, as it
hath some communication with the body of the flute, or
pipe. For there is one sound produced in a trumpet of
wood, another in one of brass; another, I judge, if the
trumpet were lined within, or perhaps even covered, on the
outside, with silk or cloth: one perchance if the trumpet

OF SOUND AND HEARING. 247

were wet, another if dry, I conceive, likewise, in virginals,
or the viol, if the board upon which the strings are strained
were of brass, or of silver, it should yield a somewhat
different sound. But of all these things let there be better |
inquiry.

Raiee in respect of the communication, it would be
inquired, what the diversity and inequality of bodies may
do; as if three bells should be made to hang, the one
within the other, with some space of air interposed, and the
outer bell were chimed upon with an hammer, what sound
it should give, in respect of a single bell.

Let a bell be covered on the outside with cloth or silk,
and let it be noted, when the bell is struck by the tongue
within, what that covering shall do to the sound.

If there were in a viol a plate of brass, or of silver,
pierced with holes, in place of that of wood, it would be
seen what this shall do to the sound.

There are used in Denmark, and are even brought hither,
drums of brass, not of wood, less than those of wood, and
they give, I think, a louder sound.

The agitation of the air by great winds shall not, I
think, yield much sound, if woods, waves, buildings, or the
like be away; yet is it received that, before tempests, there
be some murmurings made, in woods, albeit to the sense
the blast be not yet perceived, nor do the leaves stir. (a)

(a) Three chapters are deficient, which there wanted leisure to completing.

atte
ee
ah id
ori ah

ieee aires

|

SERMONES FIDELES,
SIVE

INTERIORA RERUM.

ILLUSTRI ET EXCELLENTI DOMINO
GEORGIO, DUCI BUCKINGHAML#,

SUMMO ANGLIZ ADMIRALLIO.

HONORATISSIME DOMINE,

SoLoMon inquit, “ Nomen bonum est instar unguenti fra-
grantis et pretiosi;” neque dubito quin tale futurum sit
nomen tuum apud posteros. Etenim et fortuna, et merita
tua, precelluerunt. Et videris ea plantasse que sint dura-
tura. In lucem jam edere mihi visum est delibationes
meas, que ex omnibus meis operibus fuerunt acceptissime :
quia forsitan videntur, pre ceteris, hominum negotia strin-
gere, et in sinus fluere. Eas autem auxi, et numero, et
pondere; in tantum, ut plane opus novum sint. Con-
sentaneum igitur duxi, affectui, et obligationi mee, erga
illustrissimam dominationem tuam, ut nomen tuum illis
preefigam, tam in editione Anglica, quam Latina. Etenim,
in bona spe sum, volumen earum in Latinam, (linguam
scilicet universalem,) versum, posse durare, quandiu libri et
literee durent. Instaurationem meam Regi dicavi: His-
toriam regni Henrici Septimi, (quam etiam in Latinum
verti,) et portiones meas Naturalis historie, Principi: has
autem delibationes illustrissime dominationi tue dico;
cum sint, ex fructibus optimis, quos gratia divina calami
mei laboribus indulgente, exhibere potui. Deus illustris-
simam dominationem tuam manu ducat. .

Illustrissime dominationis tue

Servus devinctissimus et fidelis,

Fr. S. ALBAN.

SERMONES FIDELES.

I. DE VERITATE.

“Quip est veritas ?” inquit Pilatus derisor ; nec prestolari
voluit responsum. Certé sunt, qui cogitationum vertigine
delectantur; ac pro servitute habent, fide fixa aut axio-
matis constantibus, constringi; liberii arbitrii usum in
cogitando, non minus quam in agendo, affectantes. Cujus-
modi quidem sect philosophorum licet defecerint ; super-
sunt tamen ingenia quedam ventosa et, discursantia, quibus
eedem_omnino vene, licet-non pari, cum antiquis, copia
sanguinis replete. Verum, nec difficultas sola, laborque
quem homines subeunt, in veritate invenienda; nec que
ex ea inventa cogitationibus imponitur captivitas, men-
daciis favorem conciliat; sed ipsius mendacii naturalis
(utcunque corruptus,) amor. EE recentiore Grecorum
schola quidam, rem ad examen vocans, heret attonitus ;
dum excogitare nequit, quorsum mortales amarent men-
dacium, ipsius mendacii causa; cum nec voluptati sit, ut
mendacia poétarum; nec utilitati, ut illa mercatorum.
Sed nescio quomodo, veritas ista, (utpote nuda et manifesta
lux diurna,) personatas hujus mundi fabulas, ineptiasque,
non tam magnifice et eleganter ostendit, quam tede,
lucerneeque nocturne. Ad unionis, forsan, valorem, per-
venire poterit veritas, que per diem speciosissima apparet :
sed ad pretium adamantis, aut carbunculi, qui lumine
vario pulcherrime splendent, nunquam ascendet. Mix-
tura mendacii voluptatem semper auget. Ecquis dubitat,
si e mentibus hominum tollerentur opiniones vane, spes
bland, estimationes rerum false, imaginationes ad libi-
tum, et id genus alia, quin multorum animi relinquerentur

_ dejecti, et marcidi, atre bilis et languoris pleni, as sibimet

ipsis ingrati ac displicentes? Patrum unus, magna cum

252 DE VERITATE.

severitate, poesin appellat, vinum demonum; ed quod
phantasiam vanis impleat; licet pocsis mendacii tantum
umbra sit. Verumtamen, non est mendacium, mentem
pertransiens, quod officit; sed mendacium, quod a mente
ibibitur, nempe ejus generis, de quo ante diximus. Verum
utcunque in depravatis hominum judiciis, et affectibus, heec
ita se habeant ; veritas tamen, (que sola se judicat,) docet ;
veritatis inquisitionem, que eam, proci instar, demeretur ;
veritatis cognitionem, que presentem eam sistit; et veri-
tatis receptionem cum assensu, que est ipsius fruitio et
amplexus; summum esse humane nature bonum.

Prima, in operibus sex dierum, creatura Dei, fuit lux
sensus; postrema, lux rationis; quin et opus ejus, sab-
batho, quod deinceps perpetuo exercet, est Spiritus sui
illuminatio. Primo inspiravit lumen in faciem materie,
vel molis indigeste ; postea in faciem hominis; quin et
usque semper lucem inspirat in faciem electorum. Poéta,
qui sectam, alioqui ceteris inferiorem, ornavit, elegan-
tissime dixit; “ Suave est in litore stanti videre naves fluc-
tibus exagitatas; suave ad arcis fenestram stanti, prelium
commissum, ejusque varios eventus, inferius spectare; sed
nulla voluptas equiparari potest huic ipsi, nempe ut quis
stet super clivum excelsum veritatis” (collem certe inac-
cessibilem, ubi aér semper liquidus est, et serenus) “ atque
inde errores, homines palantes, caligines, et tempestates,
in convalle subjacente, despiciat :” modo prospectus iste
cum misericordia conjunctus sit, non cum tumore, aut
superbia. Et hoc ipsum est ccelo in terris frui, quando
mens humana in charitate movetur, in providentia quiescit,
et supra polos veritatis circumfertur.

Jam vero, ut a theologica et philosophica veritate, ad
veritatem, aut potius veracitatem in civilibus negotiis,
transeamus ; agnoscent vel ipsi, qui eam non exercent,
apertam, et minime fucatam, in negotiis gerendis, rationem,
precipuum esse humane nature decus: mixturam autem
falsi similem esse plumbee materie, que efficit sane ut
facilius cudi possit metallum, sed ita ut interim vilius fiat.
Nam flexuosi isti, et obliqui motus, serpentum sunt: qui
super ventrem suum gradiuntur, non pedibus incedunt.
Non est vitium, quod tanto hominem pudore obruit, quam
si falsus vel perfidus inveniatur. Itaque acutissime Mon-
taneus, rationem scrutatus, cur mendacii vocabulum, pro
tanto haberetur opprobrio, et contumelia; Si res recte
perpendatur, (inquit,) qui dicit hominem mentiri, eadem
opera dicit, eum adversus Deum audacem esse, adversus

DE VERITATE. 253

‘homines timidum. Mendax enim, Deo insultat, homini se
incurvat. Certe, quam flagitiosa res sit, falsitas, et per-
fidia, nullo modo exprimi potest melius, quam quod istis,
(quasi ultimis clamoribus,) devocabuntur judicia Dei in
genus humanum. Predictum enim est, Christum in ad-
ventu suo secundo, “ non reperturum fidem super terram.”

II. DE MORTE.

MeEtTuwntT homines mortem, ut pueri tenebras. Quem-
admodum autem, metus iste naturalis, in pueris augetur,
fabulosis quibusdam terriculamentis, ita et ille alter. Sane,
mortis meditatio, prout mors stipendium est peccati, et ad
aliam vitam transitus, pia est et salubris; metus vero ejus,
ut est nature debitum, res est infirma, et inanis. Inest
tamen nonnunquam piis meditationibus, fermentum aliquod
vanitatis, necnon superstitionis. Preecipitur in hbris non-
nullis religiosorum, qui tractant de mortificatione, ut reco-
gitet secum homo, quantus sit dolor, cum vel minimus
digiti articulus torqueatur; atque inde estimet, quantus
sit in morte*cruciatus, ubi totum corpus corrumpitur, et
dissolvitur. Cum tamen mors seepenumero transeat minore
cum dolore, quam sentitur in tortura membri. Partes
enim maxime vitales non sunt maxime sensitive. Nec
abs re dictum fuit, ab illo, qui locutus est ut philosophus
tantummodo, et homo animalis; “ Pompa mortis magis
terret, quam mors ipsa:” gemitus et singultus, membrorum
convulsiones, oris pallor, amici flentes, et atrata funera,
cum similibus, hee sunt que mortem ostentant terribilem.
Observatione plane dignum est, nullam esse animi passio-
nem tam debilem, quin superet, et in ordinem redigat
timorem mortis. Ideoque mors, non est hostis adeo for-
midabilis, cum tam multos habeat homo circa se athletas,
qui in certamine illam vincant. Ultio de morte triumphat ;
amor eam patvi facit; honor ambit; metus ignominize
elegit; mceror ad eam confugit; metus anticipat. Imo
legimus, quod -postquam Otho imperator seipsum inter-
fecisset, ipsa misericordia, (que affectus est omnium tener-
rimus,) multos provocarit ad commoriendum, ex mera animi
compassione erga dominum suum, ut fidissimos asseclas,
Quin et addit Seneca fastidium, et satietatem: “ Cogita
quam diu eadem feceris; mori velle non tantum fortis, aut
miser, sed etiam fastidiosus potest.” Nec minus observatu
dignum est, quantillam mutationem in animo generoso et

254 DE MORTE.

forti, appropinquans mors eflicere valeat; eosdem enim
gerpute homines illi spiritus, usque ad extremum momentum,
ortuus est Augustus Ceesar, voce certe urbana: “ Livia,
conjugii nostri memor, vive, et vale.” Tiberius inter dissi-
mulandum ; ita enim de illo Tacitus; ‘‘ Jam Tiberium vires,
et corpus, non dissimulatio, deserebant.” Vespasianus cum
scommate ; exonerans enim se super sella: Ut puto Deus
fio. Galba cum gnoma: “ Feri, si ex re sit populi Romani :”
protendens simul collum, Septimius Severus, inter expe-
dienda negotia: “ Adeste, si quid mihi restat agendum.”
Pariter et alii. Certe Stoici, nimium insumpserunt opere
in solatia mortis: etenim grandi suo, contra eam, apparatu,
effecerunt, ut terribilior videretur. Rectius ille, “ qui finem
vite extremum inter munera ponit nature.” Aique enim
est naturale hominibus mori, ac nasci; atque infans forsan,
non minorem sentit dolorem ex hoc, quam ex illo. Qui
moritur inter prosequendum magnum aliquod desiderium,
ita se habet, ut vulneratus, sanguine adhuc fervente, qui
lagam vix sentit. Itaque mens, in aliquod bonum fixa et
intenta, a doloribus mortis se subducit. Verum enimverod,
super omnia, suavissimum canticorum est illud, “ Nune di-
mittis ;” cum quis fines suos, et exspectationes honestas,
assecutus fuerit. Hoc item in se habet mors, ut bone
fame januam aperiat, et livorem extinguat:

.

Extinctus amabitur idem.

Ill. DE UNITATE ECCLESIZ.

Cum religio’sit precipuum humane societatis vinculum,
par est, ut et ipsa, debitis veree unitatis et charitatis vinculis,
astringatur. Dissidia circa religionem, mala erant,,ethnicis
incognita. Nec mirum, cum religio ethnicorum posita
esset potius in ritibus, et cultu Deorum externo, quam in
constanti aliqua confessione, et fide. Facile enim est con-
jicere, cujusmodi fuerit illorum fides, cum preecipui ecclesie
ipsorum doctores et patres, fuerint poete. Inter attributa
autem veri Dei ponitur, quod sit Deus zelotypus: itaque
cultus ejus non fert mixturam, nec consortium, Quam-
obrem pauca quedam de unitate in ecclesia dicemus.
Scilicet, qui sint ejus fructus, qui limites, quibus denique
modis concilietur.

Unitatis fructus precipui, (preterquam quod Deo summé
placeat, id quod ante omnia poni debet,) sunt duo, Alter

DE UNITATE ECCLESLA. 255

respicit eos, qui extra ecclesiam sunt; alter eos, qui intra.
Quod ad priorem attinet, certum est, longé maxima’ in
ecclesia scandala, esse heresses, et schismata; ut que
etiam corruptelas morum superent. Quemadmodum enim
in corpore naturali, vulnera, et solutio continuitatis, genere
pejora sunt, quam humores putridi; similis est corporis
spiritualis' ratio. Adeo ut nihil reperiatur, quod eque
homines, ab ingressu in ecclesiam absterreat, aut jam re-
ceptos expellat, ac unitatis violatio. Itaque temporibus
quibus illud increbrescit, ut ali dicant, “ Ecce in deserto ;”
alii, “‘ Ecce in penetralibus;” hoc est, dum quidam Christum
querunt in hereticorum conciliabulis, quidam in facie
ecclesiz externa, opus est prorsus, ut ila vox aures homi-
num quasi perpetuo feriat; Nolite exire. Doctor ille gen-
tium, cujus vocatio et missio, propria et demandata, ei
imposuit, ut eorum, qui extra ecclesiam fuerant, curam
gereret, inquit, “Si ingrediatur ccetus vestros infidelis quis-
piam, aut idiota, et vos variis loquentes linguis audiat,
annon vos insanire preedicabit ?” Neque sane, multo melius
se habet, cum athei, et homines profani, tantas, in reli-
gione, lites, et opinionum dimicationes, intueantur. Si-
quidem hee res ab ecclesia illos avertit, et in cathedra
derisorum sedere facit. Levius quiddam videatur, quam
ut in tractatu tam serio citetur, deformitatem tamen rei
egregie depingit. Insignis quidam jocandi artifex, in cata-
logo librorum bibliothece cujusdam fabulose, inter ceeteros,
cum hac inscriptione, librum ponit: “ Saltationes florales,
et gesticulationes hereticorum.” Nemo enim est ex iis, qui
non peculiarem quendam motum corporis ridiculum, et
gestus deformitatem, exhibeat: unde fieri non potest, quin

homines carnales, et politici degeneres, subsannent, qui

facile in contemptum rerum sacrarum feruntur. Quantum
ad fructus unitatis, qui ad eos, qui intra sunt, redundat, is,
uno verbo, pax est, que innumeras benedictiones com-
plectitur. Etenim fidem stabilit, charitatem accendit;
quin et externa ecclesiz pax in pacem internam conscientiz
sensim distillat; laboresque scribentium, et legentium con-
troversias, vertit in tractatus pietatis, et mortificationis.
Quantum ad terminos et limites unitatis, vera procul,
dubio. et justa eorum collocatio; magni prorsus est, ad
omnia in religione, momenti. Duo autem in iis statuendis
videntur fier1 excessus. Hominibus enim zelo fervidis,
omnis pacificationis mentio est odiosa ; “ Numnam pax,
Jehu? Quid tibi cum pace? Vade post me.” Quasi pax
nihil esset ad rem, sed secte et partes. Contra, quidam

256 DE UNITATE ECCLESIA.

tanquam Laodicenses, in causis religionis tepidi, putant
capita religionis, nexu se commodo, colligare posse, per vias
medias, et opiniones utrinque participantes, et reconcilia-
tiones ingeniosas; ac si pro arbitris se gerere vellent, inter
Deum et homines. Uterque excessus vitandus ; quod fiet,
si foedus inter Christianos, ab ipso Servatore nostro, de-
scriptum, in clausulis illis, que primo intuitu, inter se
opponi videntur, perspicuam et planam interpretationem
sortiatur. “ Qui non nobiscum est, contra nos est;” et
rursus, “ Qui contra nos non est, nobiscum est.” Hoc est,
si capita religionis, plane essentialia et fundamentalia, rite
discernantur et distinguantur, a capitibus, que non sunt ex
fide, sed ex opinione probabili, et intentione sancta, propter
ordinem, et ecclesiz politiam, sancite. Hoc vero plurimis
videri possit, triviale quiddam, in quo quis actum agat:
verum si hoc ipsum, minore partium studia, fieret, majore
etiam consensu reciperetur. In hac re consilii nonnihil
impertiri visum est, pro captus nostri tenuitate. Videndum
est, ne homines ecclesiam Dei lacerent, per duo contro-
versiarum genera. Primum est, cum controversiz materia
levior est, nec tanta contentione, quanta circa eam exci-
tatur, digna; contradictione sola inflammata. Quemad-
modum enim acute, et eleganter notatum est, ab uno ex
patribus; “Tunica Christi inconsutilis fuit, at vestis ecclesia
versicolor.” Unde precipit ; “ In veste varietas sit, scissura
non sit.” Differunt enim haud parum inter se, unitas, et
uniformitas. Secundum est, cum materia quidem contro-
versie pondus habet, sed ad nimiam subtilitatem ac ob-
scuritatem redacta est: adeo ut ingeniosa queedam res esse
videatur, potius quam solida. Videmus quandoque fieri,
ut quis doctus, et intelligens, homines imperitos, de aliqua
queestione inter se litigantes, audiat; atque perspicue ad-
vertat, eos idem re ipsa sentire, et in unum convyenire,

uibus tamen ipsis nunquam fuisset aliquis dissidendi finis.
Quod si hoc nonnunquam eveniat, in exigua illa judiei
disparitate, que inter homines esse potest; annon credere
par est, Deum in ceelis, qui corda scrutatur et novit, satis
perspicere, nos homines fragiles, in aliquibus, de quibus
controversiam movemus, idem revera sentire, et in ambobus
benigne complacere. Hujusmodi controversiarum natura,
et character, optime a D. Paulo exprimitur, in monito illo
ac precepto, quod circa illud adhibet: “ Devita profanas
vocum novitates, et oppositiones falsi nominis’ scientiz.”
Creant sibi homines oppositiones, que revera nulle sunt,
easque in nova vocabula effingunt, et cudunt; que tam

DE UNITATE ECCLESIZ. 257

fixa sunt et invariabilia, ut ubi sensus vocabulum regere
debeat, vocabulum imperet sensui. Sunt etiam, ut con-
troversiarum, ita unitatis, species due; que adulterine
censeri possunt. Altera,cum pax ignorantiz tantum im-
plicit innititur. Coloribus enim omnibus in tenebris
bene convenit. Altera, que consuta est et sarcita, ex po-
sitionibus ex diametro inter se contrariis, in capitibus
nimirum fundamentalibus. Veritas enim et falsitas, similes
sunt ferro et luto in digitis pedum, imaginis, quam in
somnis vidit Nebuchadnezzar; adherere sane possunt, in-
corporarl non possunt.

Jam quatenus ad modos, per quos conciliatur unitas,
eavendum est hominibus, ne dum unitatem religionis pro-
curent et muniant, leges charitatis, et societatis solvant, et
demoliantur. Inter Christianos duo tantum recipiuntur
glad, spiritualis nempe, et temporalis. Uterque autem
suum habet locum, et suo perfungitur munere, in religione
Christiana propugnanda, et protegenda. Sed neutiquam
arripiendus est gladius tertius, qui est Mahumetis, aut ili
similis; hoc est, ut religionem bello propagemus, aut cru-
entis persecutionibus, vim conscientiis inferamus; exceptis
casibus scandali aperti, et insolentis; blasphemiz, aut
machinationis adversus statum civilem: ne dum ut fove-
antur seditiones, animentur conjurationes, et rebelliones,
gladius in manus populi transferatur, et similia; que
omnia manifesto tendunt, ad majestatem imperil minu-
endam, et auctoritatem magistratuum labefactandam ; cum
tamen omnis legitima potestas sit a Deo ordinata. Hoc
enim nihil aliud est, quam alteram ex tabulis legis, in
alteram allidere; et in tantum homines ut Christianos
intueri, ut interim obliti videamur, quod sint homines. Lu-
cretius poeta, cum sibi ante oculos poneret, Agamemnonem,
filam propriam immolantem, exclamat,

‘* Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum.”
gio p

Quid tandem dixisset, si ei laniena Parisiensis, aut conju-
ratio pulveraria in Anglia, innotuisset ? Certe septies factus
esset magis Epicureus, et atheus, quam fuit. Nam quem-
admodum gladius temporalis, non temere, sed magno cum
judicio, in casu religionis, stringendus est; ita monstri
simile est, eum in manus populi tradi. Sibi habeant hoc
anabaptiste, et hujusmodi furie. Certe, insignis fuit illa
blasphemia, cum diceret diabolus, “ Ascendam, et ero similis
Altissimo ;” sed adhuc major blasphemia fuerit, si quis
Deum introducat dicentem: “ Descendam, et ero similis
VOL. Xv, s

258 DE UNITATE ECCLESIZ.

s]
principi tenebrarum.” Quid autem hoc ab illo differt, si
causa religionis descendat, et preecipitetur, ad crudelia et
execrabilia scelera, principes trucidandi, in populorum vitas
grassandi, et imperia funditus evertendi? Videter quidem
hoc perinde esse, ac si quis descendentem faciat Spiritum
Sanctum, in specie, non columbe, sed vulturis, aut corvi ;
aut ex navi ecclesie erigeret vexillum piratarum, et assassi-
horum: quocirca, justum est, et id ipsum necessitas tem-
porum flagitat, ut ecclesia doctrina sua, et decretis suis ;
principes gladio; omnesque litere seu religios sint, seu
morales, caduceo suo; in barathrum inferni damnent, et
detrudant in secula, hujusmodi facta, et doctrinas lis auc-
toritatem aliquam tribuentes; ut magna ex parte jam
pridem factum est. Certe optandum esset, ut in omnibus
cirea religionem consiliis, ante oculos hominum prefige-
retur monitum illud apostoli: “ Ira hominis non implet jus-
titiam Dei.” Atque ut verum dicamus, optime, et pru-
dentissime observatum est, ab uno ex patribus, profunde
Sapientie viro, nec minus ingenue, et sincere, ab eodem
prolatum, et evulgatum: “ Eos, qui conscientias premi,
lisque vim inferri suadent, sub illo dogmate, cupiditates
suas subtexere, illamque rem sua interesse, putare.”

IV. DE VINDICTA.

VINDICTA agrestis quedam justitia est; que quo magis
humana natura serpit, eo fortius legibus severis est evel-
lenda. Etenim injuria illata, legem tantummodo violat ;
at reposita, legem auctoritate sua plane spoliat. Certe, in
vindicanda injuria, equalem se quis inimico suo sistit; in
remittenda vero, superiorem: regium enim est, ignoscere.
Equidem memini dixisse Solomonem, “ Honori est homini
oftensas preterire.” Quod jam preteriit, in integrum res-
titui non potest; at prudentes sat habent presentia et
futura curare. Nugantur igitur, et se frustra conturbant,
qui preeteritarum rerum satagunt. Injuriam nemo, injuriz
ipsius causa, infert; verum, ut ex ea, lucri aliquid, aut
voluptatis,-aut honoris, sibi conciliet: cur igitur cuipiam
succenseam, quod se potius quam me diligat? Quod si
quis ex malignitate mera sit injuriosus; quid tum? etiam
spina et rubus pungunt et lacerant, quia natura sua utun-
tur. Vindicte precipue excusationem merentur, in lis
injuriis, de quibus lege cautum non est. At simul pros-
piciat quis, ut genus vindicte, ejusmodi sit, quod non sit

DE VINDICTA. 259

legi obnoxium. Alias ipse sibi pcenam conduplicat, inimicus
vero lucrum facit. Sunt, qui inter sumendam vindictam,
cupiunt, ut leesi intelligant, unde malum illud sibi ingruerit.
Nempe generosior est iste affectus: siquidem videntur illi,
non tam ipsa ultione delectari, quam ut lesum facti sui
peniteat. At vili ingenio prediti, et malitiosi, instar sa-
gittarum sunt, que per tenebras volant. Magnus dux
Florentiz Cosmus, acutissimum telum vibravit in amicos
perfidos, aut incuriosos. “ Legimus (inquit) et mandatum
habemus, ut inimicis nostris ignoscamus ; at nuspiam legi-
tur, astringi nos, ad ignoscendum amicis:” verum Spiritus
Job loquitur meliora: “ Numnam (inquit) de manu Dei bona
accipiemus, neque mala itidem quandoque sustinebimus ?”
Quod etiam, aliquo modo, de amicis dici par est. Hoc cer-
tissimum est, hominem qui vindicte studet, sua vulnera
refricare, que alias, sibi relicta, sanari et consolidari po-
tuissent. Ultiones publice, maxima ex parte; prospere
cedunt: quales erant, propter cedem Cesaris, cedem Per-
tinacis, cedem Henrici quarti magni illius Gallic regis, et
aliorum complurium. At in vindictis privatis hoc minime
tenet. Quin potius, homines vindicativi vitam fere agunt
veneficarum, que ut aliis sunt exitiabiles, ita ipse ple-
runque exitum infaustum sortiuntur.

V. DE REBUS ADVERSIS.

GRANDE prorsus sonabat Seneca, more Stoicorum, cum
diceret: “ Bona rerum secundarum optabilia, adversarum
mirabilia.” Certe si miracalum recte ponatur illud, quod
naturam superat, cernuntur miracula, maxime in calami-
tatibus. At priorem illam sententiam magniloquentia supe-
rat, alterum ex ejus dictis ; et excelsius quiddam est, quam
ethnico conveniat. ‘ Vere magnum habere fragilitatem
hominis, securitatem Dei.” Sane hoc dictum in poési fuisset
tolerabilius, ubi transcendentia ista magis probantur. Ac
ut verum dicamus, poéte hoc intactum non reliquerunt.
Eadem enim fere res est, que adumbratur, in portentoso
illo poétarum antiquorum commento, quod mysterio vide-
tur non carere; imo et statum Christianum non obscure
referre; nimirum de Hercule; qui cum ad solvenda Pro-
methei vincula proficisceretur (in Prometheo autem figura
nature humane representatur); oceani longitudinem in
poculo figulino emensus est; ubi ad vivum Christiana
constantia depingitur, que in fragili carnis testa, per mundi

260 DE REBUS ADVERSIS.

fluctus, undique circumfusos, navigat. Verum ut a grandi-
tate verborum, ad mediocritatem descendamus. Rerum
secundarum precipua virtus est temperantia, adversarum,
fortitudo ; que in moralibus reputatur pro virtute maxime
heroica. Quin et res prospere, ad Veteris Testamenti
benedictiones, adverse, ad Novi beatitudines, pertinent:
que, et reipsa majores sunt, et clariorem divini favoris
revelationem exhibent. Attamen etiam in Veteri Testa-
mento, si lyre Davidis aures prebeas, plures invenias
threnos, quam exultationes: Spiritus autem sancti calamus,
diffusius tractavit, Jobi afflictiones, quam felicitatem Solo-
monis. Res prospere non sine plurimis timoribus et
molestiis transeunt; adverse itidem suis solatiis, et spe
non vacant. Videmus certe in acupictis, melius placere,
cum imagines coloris lucidioris sunt, stamen autem tele,
coloris magis opaci, quam cum stamen ipsum splendidius
est, imagines autem tenebrosiores. Judicium igitur capi
potest, quid cordi magis volupe sit, ex eo quod oculos
magis delectat. Habet certe virtus simile quiddam odora-
mentis quibusdam pretiosis, que fragrantissima sunt, aut
incensa, aut tusa. Nam fortuna prospera potissimum vitia
hominum indicat, adversa virtutes,

VI. DE DISSIMULATIONE ET SIMULATIONE.

Diss1MuLATio est artium civilium compendium quoddam,
et pars infirmior: etenim, et ingenium acre, et robur animi
constans ad hoc requiritur, ut quis sciat, quando verum
proferendum sit, atque id facere audeat. Itaque inter
inferiores politicos reponuntur, qui magni sunt simulatores.

Quod discrimen, bene apud Tacitum, Cesarem Augustum
inter, et Tiberium, adnotatum est. Etenim de Livia sic
ait: quod esset “Cum artibus mariti, et simulatione filii,
bene composita. Artes imperii Augusto, simulationem
Tiberio” attribuens. Idem alibi hisce verbis, Mucianum
inducit, Vespasianum ad arma contra Vitellium sumenda
hortantem: Non adversus Augusti acerrimam mentem, nec
adversus Tiberii cautissimam senectutem, insurgimus. Quare
he facultates, artium civilium, et simulationum, sunt prorsus
distinguende. Esto igitur, ut sit felicis ita quisquam
acuminis, tanteeque perspicacie, ut distinguere queat, que
palam facienda, que occultanda, que tanquam in crepus-
culo producenda, temporum etiam et personarum ratione »
pensitata (que revera artes sunt politice et civiles, ut

DE DISSIMULATIONE ET SIMULATIONE. 261

Tacitus eas recte appellat,) huic dissimulatio impedimento
erit. Quod siquis, ad hunc judicii et discretionis gradum,
ascendere non valeat, ei relinquitur tanquam tutissimum,
ut sit tectus, et dissimulator. Ubi enim in singulis non
datur eligere, ibi in omnibus caute insistere tutissimum
est; cecutientibus enim lente movendum. Sane ubique
reperias homines rerum tractandarum peritissimos, omnes
fere candorem, ingenuitatem, et veracitatem, in negotiis
pre se tulisse: verum simul erant, tanquam equi, bene
docti et domiti, qui subito se sistere, et se vertere, norant.
Quod si necessitas quedam ingruat, dissimulationem pro-
fundam postulans, tunc quidem opinio et fama de bona
fide et veracitate eorum, preconcepta, eos reddit prorsus
invisibiles.

Consilia et mentem tegendi, aut velandi, gradus sunt
tres. Primus est, taciturnitas, cum quis sensus animi sui
premit, adeoque relinquit in equilibrio, ut in quam partem
propendeat, nemo facile conjecerit. Secundus dissimulatio
in negativa, cum quis ex composito signa quedam et
indicia jacit, se non eum esse, qui revera est. Tertius
simulatio in affirmativa, cum quis aperte fingit et preetexit,
se Cum esse, qui revera non est.

Quantum ad primum horun, taciturnitatem scilicet; ea
est certe virtus confessoris. Atque profecto, vir taciturnus
multas audit confessiones ; quis enim garrulo, et loquaci,
pectus suum recludet? Quod si quis famam habeat viri
taciturni, facile aliorum animos reserabit ; sicut aér clausus
apertum sugit: atque veluti delicta confiteri, non ad ali-
quem finem collimat, qui ad res civiles tendit, sed ad
conscientiam sublevandam: ita certe homines taciturni, ad
multarum rerum notitiam, simili de causa, perveniunt ; dum
homines, non tam impertire, quam exonerare animum suum
cupiant. Ut paucis dicamus, mysteria silentibus debentur.
Preeterea, si verum loquamur, etiam in animo, eque ac in
corpore, deformis et invenusta est nuditas: neque parvam
addit reverentiam, consiliis et factis hominum, si minus
pateant. At loquaces et futiles, etiam plerunque leves
sunt, et creduli. Qui enim eloquitur que scit, effutiet
etiam que nescit. Ponatur igitur pro certo, habitum taci-
turnitatis virtutem esse politicam et moralem. Sed et illud
addendum est, bonum esse homini, ut vultus suus linguee
officium non preripiat. Nam, revelatio animi ex vultu,
aut gestu, magnus est defectus, et quedam quasi proditio:
eo magis, quod sepenumero, plus notatur, et fidem facit,
quam verba.

262 DE DISSIMULATIONE ET SIMULATIONE.

Quantum ad secundum, dissimulationem scilicet: ex
necessitate quadam illa taciturnitatem sequitur. Adeo ut
qui tectus esse vult, dissimulator aliquatenus vel nolens
evadat. Etenim astutiores sunt homines, quam ut pati-
antur aliquem in equilibrio se continere absque aliqua in
alteram partem inclinationis sue declaratione. Ita ques-
tionibus subtilibus eum obsidebunt, et allicient, et excutient,
ut, nisi obfirmato et absurdo silentio se quis muniat, necesse
ei fuerit, se nonnihil prodere: quinetiam si hoc non fecerit,
ex silentio ipso, aliquid conjecturee capient, non minus, quam
ex verbis. Quod vero ad equivocationes, et oracula ver-
borum attinet, non poterunt illa diu valere. Ita ut nemo
tectus esse queat, nisi aliquem dissimulationis gradum sibi
indulgeat: que nihil aliud est, quam silentil quedam
appendix, aut limbus.

Quantum vero ad tertium gradum; nimirum simula-
tionem, et professionem falsam; illam magis vitiosam, et
minus politicam, duco; nisi forte dignus vindice nodus
inciderit. Itaque perpetua consuetudo simulandi, vitium
est, aut ex ingen lubricitate quadam, vel timiditate,
ortum; aut etiam, ex animi constitutione, que vitio aliquo
magno imbuta est: quod, quia occultare oportet, simula-
tionem etiam in aliis adhibere et exercere eflicit, ne forte
habitus ipse intercidat.

Commoda simulationis et dissimulationis tria. Primum
est, quod oppositionem amoliatur, et homines imparatos
agerediatur, ubi enim consilia cujuspiam evulgata fuerint,
adversarii, veluti tuba, excitantur. Secundum est, quod
in hominis potestate relinquit, ut pedem referat, et se
absque existimationis sue jactura de negotio subducat.
Si quis enim, se manifesta declaratione obstringit, is cuneis
quasi impactis includitur; aut pergendum est ei, aut tur-
piter desistendum. Tertium est, quod ad aliena consilia
detegenda viam aperiat. Etenim ei, qui sua consilia profert,
non facile quis se adversarium profiteatur; verum assenta-
bitur potius; et libertatem loquendi, in libertatem cogitandi,
vertet. Itaque habetur apud Hispanos satis malignum
adagium: “ Dic mendacium et veritatem erues.” Perinde
ac si simulatio clavis esset ad secreta reseranda. Tria
etiam sunt simulationis et dissimulationis incommoda, ut
ex equo res compensetur. Primum, quod illa timiditatem
arguant: id quod omnibus negotiis, plumas vellit, ne per-
niciter ad metam advolent. Secundum, quod in ancipites
cogitationes animos complurium conjiciant, qui fortasse
alias cooperaturi fuissent, et studio suo rem promoturi ;

ee

DE DISSIMULATIONE ET SIMULATIONE. 263

unde sine socia et amica opera ad fines suos solus quis
ambulet. Tertium est, (idque maximum,) quod preecipuo
ad actiones organo, hominem privet; nimirum fide. Opti-
mum fuerit temperamentum, si quis veracitatis famam
obtineat, taciturnitatis habitum, dissimulationis usum tem-
pestivum, et facultatem simulationis, ubi opus fuerit.

VII. DE PARENTIBUS ET LIBERIS.

GAuDIA parentum occulta sunt; nec minus dolores eorum,
et metus. Illa certe verbis assequi nequeunt, hos autem
proferre nolunt. Certe liberi Jabores humanos suaviores,
verum infortunia amariora, reddunt. Curas vite multi-
plicant, sed memoriam mortis mitigant. AZternitas sobolis
etiam brutis communis est; sed illa memorize, meritorum,
et operum, propria est hominibus. Atque videre sane est,
opera nobilissima, et fundationes, ab orbis profecta; quibus
effigies animorum exhibere cure erat, cum corporis ima-
ginibus destituerentur. Adeo ut posteritati maxime stu-
deant, qui posteritate carent. Qui honores in familiam
suam primi introducunt, erga liberos indulgentissimi sunt :
intuentur siquidem eos, non tantum ut continuationem
speciei su, sed ut rerum a se gestarum heredes: ideoque
ut liberos et creaturas.

Gradus affectuum in parentibus erga liberos diversos,
sepe dispares sunt, aliquando iniqui: ac potissimum
in matre. Unde Solomon dicit: “ Filius sapiens leetificat
patrem: filius vero stultus meestitie est matri sue.” In
domo fcecunda, et liberorum plena, cernere quandoque est,
unum aut alterum ex senioribus pluris eestimari; atque ex
junioribus in deliciis esse: sed in medio fortasse aliquos
quasi oblivione transiri: qui nihilominus, haud raro, op-
time indolis evadunt. Tlliberalitas parentum erga lhberos
suos error est plane noxius; nam eos reddit animo dege-
neres; fallaciis deditos; ignobilium consortio se delec-
tantes: magisque ad luxum propensos, quando rerum
copiam adepti sint. Itaque optime succedit, quando
parentes suam, apud liberos, auctoritatem tuentur, cru-
menam laxant. Invaluit, tam apud parentes, quam peda-
gogos et famulos, mos quidem ineptus, emulationes inter
fratres serendi, et alendi, durante eorum pueritia; que
Sepenumero in discordias evadunt, post etatem virilem,
et familias turbant. Itali non magnum ponunt discrimen,
inter liberos, et nepotes, aut cognatos; sed, modo sint e

- 264 DE PARENTIBUS ET LIBERIS.

massa sanguinis, non multum pensi habent, utrum sint
corpore proprio editi, necne? Atque si verum dicendum
sit, in natura non multum interest; adeo ut sepe videamus,
nepotem avunculo magis similem, aut cognato, quam
parenti proprio, prout sanguis casu quodam derivatur.
Curent parentes, in tenera etate filiorum suorum, cui vite
generi illos destinent: tum enim maxime sunt flexibiles,
et cerei. Neque in hac electione respiciant nimis incli-
nationem filiorum ipsorum; quasi illud mehus arrepturi
sint, ad quod maxime videntur propensi. Verum est, si
affectus, aut aptitudo puerorum, sit erga aliquod studium
insignis, non expedire, ut quis nature, aut indoli repugnet:
sed, ut plurimum preceptum illud sanum est: “ Optimum
elige, suave et facile illud faciet consuetudo.” Fratres
juniores plerunque sunt fortune fill: sed raro, aut nun-
quam, prosperum sortiuntur exitum, quando exheredantur
seniores,

VIII. DE NUPTIIS ET C@LIBATU.

Qui uxorem duxit, et liberos suscepit, obsides fortune
dedit; sunt enim magnorum conatuum impedimenta ; sive
ad virtutem tendat quis, sive ad improbitatem: certe
prestantissima (ut alibi diximus) in usum reipublice opera,
et merita, a viris profecta sunt, prole carentibus; qui tam
affectu, quam fortunis, rempublicam connubio sibi junxe-
runt, et dotarunt. Attamen rationi videatur magis consen-
taneum, ut qui liberos relinquunt, majorem futurorum
temporum curam gererent ; ad que satis norunt, charissima
illa sua pignora oportere transmitti. Sunt tamen, qui
licet, liberis careant, tamen memorize sue incuriosi sunt,
et cogitationes vite tantum curriculo terminant, et tempora
futura ut ad se nihil pertinentia, ducunt. Imo et alii
nonnulli, uxorem et liberos, tantum in rationibus expen-
sarum habent. Quinetiam reperiuntur aliqui fatui avari,
qui gloriantur fere se liberis carere, ut habeantur tanto
ditiores. Audiverunt scilicet aliquos dicentes, “ Talis
quispiam est ditissimus ;” alios autem subinferentes, “ At
liberis compluribus oneratur:” quasi divitiarum hoc esset
decrementum. Verum ccelibatus causa maxime frequens,
est libertas; preesertim, in quibusdam animis sibi compla-
centibus et phantasticis; qui omnis restrictionis sensum
nacti sunt tam acutum, ut cingula et periscelidas fere
habeant pro vinculis et compedibus. Viri ccelibes optimi

saat: c ae

DE NUPTIIS ET CQ:LIBATU. 265

sunt amici, optimi erga servos domini, servi etiam erga
dominos optimi; at non semper subditi optimi; sunt enim
ad fugam expediti; atque revera transfuge fere omnes
sunt ejus conditionis. Vita ccelebs ecclesiasticis bene
convenit: non enim facile quis irriget solum, si prius
stagni alicujus receptaculum interveniat. Judicibus et
magistratibus res est fere indifferens: si enim faciles sint,
et corruptelis dediti, servum aliquem videas uxore, multis
modis, ad hujusmodi lucra captanda, deteriorem. Quod
ad milites attinet, reperio certe duces, apud exercitus suos
concionantes, illis in memoriam redigere solere, charitates
uxorum et liberorum. Reperio etiam nuptiarum contemp-
tum apud Turcas milites vulgares reddere viliores. Sunt
certe porro, uxor et liberi, disciplina quedam humanitatis ;
atqu ccelibes, etsi sepenumero magis sint munifici et
charitativi, quia fortunze eorum minus exhauriantur; sunt
tamen, ex altera parte, magis crudeles, et sine visceribus
(idonei qui sint severi inquisitores) quia indulgentia et
teneritudo affectuum suorum non tam sepe evocatur, et
excitatur. Nature graves, et consuetudine ducte, ideoque
constantes, sunt plerunque uxorie: ut de Ulysse perhi-
betur: “ Vetulam suam preetulit immortalitati.” Mulieres
caste sunt plerunque superbe, et proterve, merito pudi-
citie sue elate. Inter vincula prestantissima castitatis,
et obsequil uxoris erga maritum, illud censeri debet, si
virum suum uxor prudentem putet; quod nunquam faciet,
si eum inveniat zelotypum. Uxores, juvenum domine
sunt; medie etatis, socie; senum, nutrices. Adeo ut
adsit ansa ad uxorem ducendam; etatibus singulis. Inter
sapientes tamen numeratus est ille, qui interrogatus:
“ Quod esset tempus opportunum nuptiarum ?” respondit :
“ Juvenibus non adhuc, senibus non omnino.” Sepe fit,
ut mariti deteriores bonas habeant uxores: sive hoe fiat,
quod hoc modo pretium addatur mariti benevolentie, per
vices; sive quod uxores in patientia sua glorientur. Hoc
autem nunquam fallit, si hujusmodi mariti, ab uxoribus
ipsis expetiti et electi fuerint, contra consensum amicorum :
tunc enim, animus lis semper adest, ut stultitie sue poeni-
tere non videantur.

266

xX; DE INVIDIA:

Ex affectibus nulli sunt, qui existimantur fascinare, preter
amorem et invidiam. Uterque acria progignit desideria ;
uterque se perniciter efformat in phantasias, et sugges-
tiones; atque uterque facile inscendit in oculos, (preecipue
quando objectum adest); que omnia ad_ fascinationem
faciunt; si modo fascinatio aliqua sit. Videmus etiam,
Scripturam, invidiam, oculi mali nomine, insignire; atque
astrologos, malos astrorum influxus, malignos aspectus,
vocare. Ita ut, agnosci ab omnibus videatur, in invidia,
ejusque operatione, ejaculatio quedam, et irradiatio ex
oculis. Quin et nonnulli, tam extiterunt curiosi, ut nota-
verint tempora, quibus ictus et percussio oculi invidi,
plurimum obest, tum precipue esse, cum persona, in quam
invidia torquetur, spectatur in gloria et triumpho: etenim
hoc mucronem invidize acuit; atque insuper illis tempori-
bus, spiritus persone invise prodeunt maxime in exteriora,
unde ictui occurrunt.

Verum, missis istis rebus curiosis, (licet non indignis,
que in considerationem veniant, sed loco idoneo,) tracta-
bimus hec tria; qui sint ad invidendum maxime proclives ;
qui sint invidie maxime obnoxii; et que sit differentia
inter invidiam publicam et privatam.

Qui virtutis ipse expers est, invidet virtuti alterius.
Etenim animi hominum se pascunt et delectantur, aut
bono proprio, aut malo alieno; quique primo alimento
caret, satiabit se secundo; et qui nullo modo sperat se ad
virtutem alterius pervenire posse, ipse fortunam ejus liben-
ter deprimit, ut minor intercedat disparitas.

Vir curiosus, et se alienis rebus immiscens, ut plurimum,
invidus est. Etenim, de rebus alienis multum inquirere,
neutiquam eo spectare possit, quod operosa. illa sedulitas
suis rebus conducat: itaque fieri non potest, quin hujus-
modi vir, scenicam quandam voluptatem capiat, aliorum
fortunas spectandi: neque, qui rebus propriis tantum in-
tentus est, segetem invidie multam reperiet. Invidia
enim passio est cursitans, et plateas terit, nec domi se
continet: “ Non est curiosus, quin idem sit malevolus,”

Viri natalibus nobiles, invidiz erga novos homines, notam
subeunt. Etenim mutatur intervallum. Et simile est hoc
deceptioni vistis; cum res retrocedere videantur, aliis se
promoventibus.

Deformes, et ennuchi, ct scnes, et spurti, invidi sunt.

DE INVIDIA. 267

Etenim qui conditionem suam, emendare nullo modo po-
test; conditionem alterius pro viribus suis labefactabit.
Nisi forte hi defectus, in generosa et heroica ingenia, inci-
derint, que defectus proprios naturales in honoris sui
incrementum vertere nitantur ; scilicet, ut fama hoc arripiat,
eunuchum, aut claudum, tam magna perpetrasse ; miraculi
nimirum honore affectato. Id quod evenit Narseti eunucho,
et Agesilao, atque Tamberlani, qui claudi fuerunt.

Eadem fere ratio est hominum, qui e calamitatibus re-
surgunt. Sunt enim plerunque temporibus infensi; atque
alienas calamitates, tanquam suarum molestiarum redemp-
tiones, gustant.

Qui in plurimis excellere contendunt, levitate, et gloria
vana moti, necesse est ut sint invidi. Ubique enim oc-
currunt objecta invidie : cum fieri nequeat, quin aliqui in
tot rebus illos superent. Qui fuit character imperatoris
Adriani, qui poctas, et pictores, et opifices alios, in iis
scilicet operibus, quibus ipse precellere gestiebat, capitali
quadam invidia prosequebatur.

Postremo propingul, et college, et una educati, ad invi-
dendum equalibus, cum evehuntur, proni sunt. Etenim,
exprobrat hoc illis fortunam propriam, eosque quasi digito
monstrat, et frequenter eorum memoriam vellicat; quine-
tiam in aliorum notam hee fortunz collatio magis incurrit.
Invidia autem, a fama et sermonibus, semper reflectitur, et
conduplicatur. Unde invidia Cainis erga fratrem Abelem
malignior fuit, quia cum sacrificium Abelis magis acceptum
Deo fuit, nemo inspexit. Atque hee de iis, qui ad invi-
dendum proclives sunt.

Quantum ad illos, qui invidiz, magis aut minus obnoxii
sunt; primo, lis, qui eminente virtute preediti sunt, minus
invidetur, cum promoventur: promotio enim eorum videtur
ex debito; debiti autem solutioni nemo invidet, sed largi-
tioni supra meritum. Atque etiam invidia non sine com-
paratione est; ubi autem nullus comparationis gradus,
nulla invidia; itaque regibus non invidetur, nisi a regibus.
Illud tamen observatione dignum est, personis indignis,
sub primum honoris sui ascensum, maxime invideri; postea
vero minus; ubi contra persone digne, et meritis insignes,
invidiam tum demum experiuntur, postquam fortune eorum
diutius duraverint. Etenim, licet virtus eorum eadem ma-
neat, tamen minus fit illustris: recentes enim oboriantur
homines, qui eam obscurant.

Nobiles genere minus invidie expositi sunt, cum hono-
ribus cumulantur: etenim nihil aliud videtur, quam debitum

268 DE INVIDIA.

majoribus suis repensum: preterea, parum fortune eorum
additum videtur; invidia autem, more radiorum solis, in
clivo ardentior est, quam in plano. Itaque eandem ob
causam, qui per gradus evehuntur, minorem subeunt invi-
diam, quam qui per saltum.

Qui cum honoribus suis conjunctos habent labores
magnos, curas, et pericula, invidia minus laborant. Etenim
existimant homines, eos, honores suos, caro pretio emere,
et misereri potius ipsorum nonnunquam incipiunt: miseri-
cordia autem semper fere sanat invidiam. Itaque notabis
plerunque, ex viris politicis, et honore fulgentibus, magis
sanos et sobrios, semper querimonias fundere, qualem vitain
traducunt: canentes illud, Quanta patimur! non quod ita
sentiant, sed quo invidie aciem retundant. Verum hoc
intelligi debet, de negotiis, que hujusmodi viris imponuntur,
non de iis quee ipsi ad se attrahunt. Nihil enim invidiam
mags suscitat, quam ambitiosum et immodicum negotiorum
monopolium: nihilque e converso, invidiam extinguit
magis, quam si quis in summis honoribus constitutus, aliis
ofticiariis inferioribus, nihil detrahat. Hoc enim modo,
quot illi ministri sunt, tot se tegit umbraculis ab invidia.

Super omnia, illi invidiam in se concitant maxime, qui
fortunarum suarum amplitudinem, insolenter et tumide
ostentant; nunquam sibi placentes, nisi dum potentiam
suam jactent, vel per pompam exteriorem, vel triumphando
de adversariis, aut competitoribus suis dejectis : ubi contra,
virl prudentes sacrificare quandoque invidie ament, de
industria interdum permittentes se vinci, in rebus, que
minus eis cordi sunt. Nihilominus, illud verum est, po-
tentiz ostentationem apertam, et indissimulatam, (modo
absit arrogantia et gloria inanis,) minore invidia laborare,
quam si callide et quasi furtim se note subtrahat. Etenim,
hoc cum fit, nihil aliud facit quis, quam ut fortunam insi-
mulet, quasi ipse sibi esset conscius indignitatis suze ;
unde alios ad sibi invidendum stimulat.

Postremo, ut huic parti finem imponamus; quemad-
modum in principio diximus, invidiz actum aliquid habere
in se ex veneficio; ita non alia est invidiz curatio, quam
que solet esse veneficii, et incantationis: hoc est, sortis
translatio, (ut vocant,) et in alium remotio. Ad quem
finem, prudentiores ex honoratis, semper in scenam in-
troducunt aliquem, in quem invidiam, in se alias incur-
suram, derivent: quandoque in ministros et servos, quan-
doque in collegas et socios; aut in alios quosdam eam re-
jicientes, Neque, ad hunc usum, unquam desunt persone

DE INVIDIA. 269

alique violente et temerarie; que, modo potentiam et
negotia agitent, ea quovis periculo mercari non dubitent.

ie vero, ut de publica invidia loguamur. Ea saltem
aliquid in se habet boni, ubi in privata invidia nihil prorsus
inest boni. Publica enim invidia, instar salubris ostra-
cismi est, qui viros magnos, supra modum excrescentes,
coercet ; unde etiam freeno est viris prepotentibus, ne se
nimium efferant.

Hee invidia, que. mala contentatio, modernis linguis
appellatur, (et in titulo De seditionibus plenius tractabitur,)
est in regnis et rebuspublicis contagioni non absimilis.
Etenim sicut contagio in sanas partes serpit, easque cor-
rumpit; ita etiam, quando invidia statum occupaverit, vel
optima reipublice mandata et instituta, in odium vertit,
et graveolentiam quandam. Itaque, parum proficitur inter-
miscendo actiones gratas et populares, odiosis ; etenim hoc
ipsum imbecilitatem et invidie metum arguit; que tanto
magis nocet, ut sit etiam in contagionibus, que, si tibi
ab us metuas, facilius irruunt.

Ac publica ista invidia, magis in regum officiarios et
ministros involat, quam in reges ipsos. Attamen ecce
regulam que vix fallit; si invidia, que ministro incumbit,
sit magna, causa autem parva; aut si invidia quasi gene-
ralis sit, et omnes status ministros complectatur; tunc
invidia, (etsi occulto,) regem, aut statum ipsum, petit.
Atque hee dicta sint de publica invidia, aut contentatione
mala; atque de ejus differentia ab invidia privata, quam
priore loco tractavimus.

Addemus etiam, in genere, de affectu invidie, hoc in-
super ; eum inter omnes affectus esse maxime importunum,
et assiduum. Etenim, aliis affectibus excitandis subinde
preebetur occasio; recte autem dictum est, “invidiam festos
dies non agere;” quia semper materiam se exercendi
reperit. Unde etiam observatum est, amorem et invidiam,
maciem hominibus inducere; id quod alii affectus non
faciunt, quoniam non continui sunt. Est etiam invidia
affectuum vilissimus et pravissimus: quam ob causum
proprium est attributum diaboli; qui dicitur “ Invidus
homo, qui zizanias inter triticum, noctu seminavit:”’
quemadmodum etiam semper evenit, ut invidia callide, et
in tenebris operetur, ad preejudicium cujusvis rei optime,
veluti tritici, ;

270

X. DE AMORE.

Amort plus debet scena, quam vita. Etenim in scena,
amor semper comcediz preebet argumentum; quandoque
etiam et tragcediz ; at in vita humana multum plerumque
affert nocumenti; nunc ut Sirenum aliqua, aliquando ut
Fruriarum. Observare licet, neminem ex viris magnis
et ilustribus fuisse (quorum extat memoria, vel antiqua,
vel recens) qui adactus fuerit, ad insanum illum gradum
amoris. Unde constat, animos magnos, et negotia magna,
infirmam hanc passionem, non admittere. Excipere tamen
oportet Marcum Antonium, imperii Romani duumvirum;
et Appium Claudium, decemvirum, legislatorum inter
Romanos principem. Quorum prior fuit revera homo
luxuriosus, et voluptatibus deditus; alter autem vir fuit
prudens et austerus, Unde quivis perspiciat, amorem,
(quanquam rarius,) aditum reperire posse, non solum in cor
apertum, sed et bene munitum, si diligenti custodia non
asservetur. Abjectum quidem, et pusillanimum, est illud
Epicuri dictum: “Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum
sumus:” quasi homo natus ad contemplationem ceeli, et
ceelestium, idolum adorans minutum, satageret, se sub-
mittendo, si non ori, ut bruta, oculo tamen, certe ad altiora
contemplanda dato.

Mira res videbitur, si passionis hujus excessum perpen-
damus, ac quomodo ipsi rerum nature, et valori vero
insultet, vel hoc ipso, quod hyperbole perpetua nulli rei
conveniat, preterquam amori. Neque hec hyperbole
solummodo in locutionis phrasi cernitur; cum enim veris-
sime dictum sit, adulatorum principem, quocum ceteri
adulatores minores conspirant, esse unumquemque sibi
ipsi; profecto amator aliquid amplius est. Nunquam
enim fuit quisquam adeo superbus, qui seipsum tam
absurde magnifecerit, quam amator personam amatam.
Recte itaque receptum est illud diverbium: “ Amare, et
sapere, vix Deo conceditur.” Neque aliis tantummodo
manifesta est heec phrenesis, persone autem amate
minime; sed et amate potissimum, nisi amor sit reci-
procus. Certissimum enim est, amorem semper rependi,
aut amore mutuo, aut contemptu intrinseco et secreto.
Quo magis cavendum est hominibus, ab hac passione; que
non solum alias res perdit, sed et seipsam. Que alia
infert damna, belle illa exprimit poetarum fabula: “eum
scilicet, qui Helenam pretulit, Junonis dona, et Palladis

DE AMORE. rae |

amisisse.” Quisquis enim amatoriis affectibus nimis in-
dulget, et divitiis et sapientie nuncium remittit. Habet
hec passio estus suos, in ipsis temporibus, quibus animus
maxime mollis est et infirmus; nimirum in rebus prosperis,
aut adversis: quanquam hoc posterius minus forsan obser-
vatum fuerit. Utraque enim tempestas amorem accendit,
redditque flagrantiorem; unde evincitur esse stultitiz
proles. Optime illi, qui si amores omnino nequeant ex-
trudere, eos tamen in ordinem redigunt; et a rebus seriis,
viteeque negotiis, segregant. Si enim illis amor se im-
misceat, turbat omnia, hominesque eo compellit, ut fines
suos recta petere non possint. Quicquid in re sit, viri
militares amoribus dediti sunt; opinor, non aliter, quam
vino. Poscunt enim plerunque pericula compensationem
voluptariam. Inest ingenio humano, motus quidam arca-
nus, et tacita inclinatio, in amorem aliorum: qui si non
insumatur, in unum, vel paucos, naturaliter se diffundit in
plures; atque homines reddit humanos et charitativos :
quemadmodum videre licet nonnunquam in monachis.
Amor conjugalis genus humanum creat, amor socialis
perficit; amor vero lascivus inficit, et dehonestat.

XI. DE MAGISTRATIBUS ET DIGNITATIBUS.

Viri in magistratu collocati, ter servi: servi principis vel
politize ; servi fame; et servi negotiorum. Adeo ut liber-
tate neutiquam fruantur ; nec in personis, nec in actionibus,
nec in temporibus suis. Mirum cupiditatis genus, potes-
tatem appetere, libertatem amittere: vel potestatem in
alios ambire, potestatem in seipsum exuere: ascensus ad
dignitates arduus est; et per labores pervenitur ad labores
majores: sepe quoque indignitatibus non vacat; atque
per indignitates pervenitur ad dignitates. Statio in digni-
tatibus res lubrica est; atque regressus, aut precipitium
est, aut saltem eclipsis; que et ipsa triste quiddam, et
melancholicum. “Cum non sis qui fueris, non esse cur
velis vivere ?” Imo nec regredi datur, etiamsi quis cupiat ;
neque regredi volunt homines, cum ratio postulat ut id
facerent; verum impatientes manent vite private, etiam
cum senectus aut infirmitas ingruit; que umbram et otium
postulant, sicut oppidani senes, qui ante ostium sedere
volunt, licet se eo pacto derisui exponant. Sane, viris in
magistratibus positis, opus est, ut aliorum opiniones mutu-
entur, quo se ipsos beatos putent ; nam si judicent ex sensu

272 DE MAGISTRATIBUS ET DIGNITATIBUS.

proprio, nihil hujusmodi reperient; verum, quando secum
cogitent, quid alii de ipsis sentiant, et quam libenter alii
conditiones cum illis permutare vellent, tum demum beat
sunt, tanquam rumore tenus: cum intus fortasse con-
trarium experiantur. Siquidem dolores suos primi omnium
sentiunt, licet culpas suas omnium novissimi. Certe viri
potestatibus sublimes, ipsi sibi ignoti sunt; et dum nego-
tiis distrahuntur, tempore carent, quo sanitati, aut corporis,
aut anime sue, consulant:

‘« Tlli mors gravis incubat,
Qui, notus nimis omnibus,
Ignotus moritur sibi.”

In potestatibus, licentia magna datur, et boni, et mali:
quorum posterius pro maledictione habendum: in malis
enim, optima conditio est, nolle; proxima, non posse.
Certe potentia bene-merendi verus est et legitimus am-
bitionis finis. Etenim bene cogitare, licet Deo acceptum
sit, tamen versus homines non multo melius est, quam
bene somniare, nisi in actum producatur. Id autem fieri
non potest, sine munere aliquo publico et potestate; veluti
solo superiore et elevato. Merita et opera bona sunt veri
fines laborum hominis; atque eorundem conscientia per-
fectio humane quietis. “ Kt conversus Deus, ut aspiceret
opera, que fecerunt manus suze, vidit quod omnia essent
bona nimis:” tum sequitur sabbatum. In munere tuo
perfungendo, propone tibi exempla optima; imitatio enim
globus est preceptorum: et post tempus aliquod propone
tibi exemplum proprium; atque in teipsum stricte in-
quiras, num non meiius inceperis, quam perstiteris: neque
rursus exempla eorum negligas, qui eodem munere praviter
functi sunt; non ut teipsum, eorum memoriam carpendo,
vendites ; sed ut monearis, quid evitare debeas. Institue
igitur reformationem, sed absque elatione tui-ipsius, aut
scandalo priorum temporum et personarum; hoc tamen
tibi constitutum sit, exempla preclara non minus intro-
ducere, quam imitari. Retrahe res ad primam earum
institutionem ; et circumspicias, in quibus, et quibus modis,
degeneraverint. Attamen utrunque tempus consulas; tum
antiquius, ut cognoscas quid optimum fuerit; tum recen-
tius, ut notes, quid fuerit aptissimum. Contende, ut que
agis pro potestate, tanquam regulis quibusdam cohibean-
tur; ut hominibus tanquam digito monstres, quid illis
sit expectandum : neque tamen nimium sis pertinax, aut
peremptorius: atque semper cum a regula recesseris, quid

9

DE MAGISTRATIBUS ET DIGNITATIBUS. 273

sit quod agas, diligenter expone. Muneris tui jura con-
stanter tueare; neque propterea lites de jurisdictione facile
move: atque ita te geras, ut potius jura tua assumas et
exerceas tacite, et de facto, quam ut questiones de iis
cum strepitu suscites et agites. Jura etiam inferiorum
munerum, tibi subordinatorum, defende, ac ne destitue.
Tibique majori honori ducas rerum summas preescribere,
quam in omnibus satagere. Amplectere, imo invita, qui
tibi adjumento sint et informationi, ad muneris tui exe-
cutionem; neque abige eos, qui operam suam ad hoc tibi
deferunt, tanquam se ingerentes; sed potius cum favore
eos allicias, et recipias.

Vitia in auctoritate utenda, et exercenda, sunt preecipue
quatuor. Mora nimia, corruptela, asperitas, et facilitas.
naan ad moras, faciles aditus preebe; tempora preesti-
tuta serva; inchoata que sunt perfice; neque negotia
nova intermisce, nisi urgeat necessitas. Quantum ad cor-
ruptelas: non solum manus tui ipsius, et tuorum liga, ne
munera accipiantur; sed etiam manus supplicantium, ne
ea offerantur. Prius horum prestat certe integritas adhi-
bita; verum ea ipsa predicata, et ex professo, idque cum
detestatione corruptelarum, etiam posterius assequitur.
Neque tantum culpam, verum etiam suspicionem devita.
Quicunque mutabiles sunt, et manifesto alterantur absque
causa manifesta, injictunt suspicionem de corruptelis.
Itaque perpetuo, cum ab opinione tua quam declarasti,
aut processu quem incepisti, deflectas, ingenue hoc ipsum
profitere; simul et causas que te ad hoc commoverunt
sedulo declares et inculces; neque rem suffurari te posse
eredas. Servus gratiosus, et apud dominum potens, si
non extet aliqua favoris causa manifesta, reputatur ple-
runque nihil aliud quam via obliqua ad corruptelas.
Quantum ad asperitatem; invidiam, et malevolentiam
parit illa, nihil inde metens: severitas siquidem metum
incutit, asperitas odium parit. Etiam reprehensiones de
loco superiore, graves esse debent, non contumeliose.
Quantum ad facilitatem: ea corruptelis etiam deterior
est: corruptele enim interdum et subinde tentantur; quod
Si quis importunitati pateat, aut respectibus levioribus
ducatur, hec ei ubique aderint. Sicut ait Solomon:
“ Personas respicere non est bonum; talis enim offendet
pro buccella panis.”

Verissimum sane, quod a veteribus dictum est: “ Ma-
gistratus virum indicat.” Alios autem indicat in melius,
alios in pejus: “ Omnium consensu capax imperii, nisi

VOL, Xv, A

2748 DE MAGISTRATIBUS ET DIGNITATIBUS.

imperasset :” inquit Tacitus de Galba, contra de Vespa-
siano idem; “ Solus imperantium Vespasianus mutatus
in melius.” Licet alterum intelligat Tacitus de arte im-
peratoria, alterum de moribus et affectibus. Signum est
luculentissimum indolis generose, si quis honoribus
emendetur. Est enim honor, aut saltem esse debet, locus
virtutis: atque quemadmodum in natura, corpora mo-
ventur rapide ad locum, placide in loco: ita virtus in
ambitu violentior est, in honore adepto sedatior. Ascensus
omnis ad dignitatum fastigium, incedit tanquam per
scalam graduum flexuosam; atque, si factiones valeant,
bonum fuerit, alteri parte adherere, dum quis honorem
scandat: at se ad equilibrium reducere, postquam eundem
fuerit consecutus. Memoriam predecessoris tui illesam
conserva. Hoc si non feceris, debitum tibi hoc a suc-
cessore tuo rependetur. Collegas etiam amice tracta, et
potius advoca cum illud minime expectent, quam exclude
cum consentaneum fuerit eos advocari. Ne sis loci tui
nimis memor, aut crebram de eo mentionem facias, in
quotidianis sermonibus, aut conversatione privata; sed
potius predicetur de te: “ Alius prorsus vir est, cum
sedet, et munus suum exercet.”

XII. DE AUDACIA.

In scholis tritum est dicterium, nec tamen sapientis
observatione indignum. Interrogatus olim Demosthenes,
quenam prima oratoris virtus? respondit, Actio. Que
secunda? Actio. Que tertia? itidem respondit, Actio.
Ipse dixit, qui rem optime noverat; nec tamen in eo,
quod laudabat, multum nature debebat. Mira certe res,
illam oratoris partem, que non ultra corticem penetrat ;
et histrionis potius virtus censenda est, quam oratoris ;
in locum tam sublimem, supra nobiliores illas partes,
inventionis, elocutionis, et ceterarum, extolli; imo quasi
omne tulisset punctum, pene solam predicari. Sed in
promptu ratio est: inest enim nature humane, plerunque,
plus stulti, quam sapientis. Unde et facultates ew, quibus
capitur pars illa in animis mortalium stulta, sunt omnium
potentissime. Huic mire convenit, et quasi parallela est,
audacia in negotiis civilibus. Quid in istis primum?
Audacia. Quid secundum? Quid tertium? Audacia.
Attamen utcunque ignorantiz, et sordidi ingenu, proles
est audacia; ceterisque civilis scientie partibus longe

DE AUDACIA. Bio

impar. Sed nihilominus fascinat, et captivos ducit eos,
qui vel judicio infirmi sunt, vel animo timidiores: tales
autem sunt hominum pars maxima. Quin et sapientibus
ipsis, cum animis vacillent, vim injicit. [dcirco videmus
audacium, in democratiis, plurimum valuisse; apud sena~
tores vero, et principes, certe minus. Imo quando primo
rebus gerendis admoventur audaces; plus possunt, quam
postea: nam male pollicita prestat audacia. Sane quem-
admodum interveniunt agyrte, qui corpori naturali mederi
profitentur; sic et corpori politico non desunt homines,
qui curiationes vel difficillimas suscipient; quibus forsan
in paucis aliquibus experimentis feliciter successit; sed
cum scientie principia non gustarint, seepius excidunt.
Imo videre est nonnunquam hominem audacem, mira-
culum illud Mahometis edentem. Populo persuasit Ma-
hometes, se collem ad semet evocaturum; atque a summo
ejus jugo, preces pro legis sue cultoribus, oblaturum.
Populus magna frequentia convenit: collem, ut ad se
veniret, iterumque iterumque vocavit Mahometes; sed
cum collis inmotus maneret, ille, (nihil omnino pudefactus,)
inquit: ‘Si collisad Mahometem accedere nolit, ad collem
ibit Mahometes.” Sic et istiusmodi homines, quando
ingentia quedam in se susceperunt, turpissimeque in lis
defecerunt, tamen (si ad ipsum audaciz culmen pervene-
runt,) lusu rem excipient, et se vertent, et nihil aliud.
Hominibus profecto magno judicio preeditis, ludibrio sunt
audaces; imo et apud ipsum vulgus audacia aliquid habet
ridiculi. Nam si risus objectum sit absurditas, ne dubites,
quin magna audacia semper secum habeat aliquid ridicul.
Neque fere jucundius est spectaculum, quam videre in
audace oris confusionem; vultum enim tunc nanciscitur
in se reductum, sed deformiter. Nec aliter fieri potest.
Nam in verecundantibus fluunt paulatim, refluuntque
spiritus; sed audaces, quando tale quidpiam illis con-
tingit, attoniti herent; ut fit in schaccie ludo, quando
non vincitur collusor, sed torpet tantum motus. Atqui
hoc postremum, satire aptius, quam seriz observationi,
Illud vero animadvertendum, audaciam semper cecam
esse. Discrimina enim et obstacula nulla videt: quare in
deliberando nocet, in exequendo juvat. Adeo ut, si
audaces tuto adhibere velis, summum illis imperium non
deferas; secunde classi annumerentur, et ab aliis regantur.
Nam in consiliis capiendis, pericula ante oculos habere
bonum est; in executione autem, oculos claudere oportet,
nisi pericula valde magua fuerint.

XIII. DE BONITATE, ET BONITATE NATIVA.

BoniITATEM eo sensu accipio, ut sit affectus, qui hominum
commoda studeat, et bene velit: quam eandem Greci
philanthropiam vocant. Humanitatis autem vocabulum,
(prout vulgus ea utitur) levius aliquanto est, atque an-
gustius, quam ut vim ejus exprimat. Bonitatem scilicet
appello affectum, et habitum; bonitatem autem nativam,
inclinationem. Bonitas vero inter omnes virtutes, atque
animi dignitates, facile primas obtinet; cum sit ipsius
divine nature adumbrata quedam effigies, et character:
qua e rebus sublata, homo animalis nihil aliud fuerit,
quam res inquieta, scelesta, misera, 1mo species queedam
noxiorum vermium. Bonitas moralis, virtuti illi theologice,
charitati, respondet; neque excessum quidem capit, aber-
rationem autem patitur. Immodica potenti cupiditas
angelos ccelo deturbavit; immodica scientiz cupiditas
hominem paradiso expulit: at in charitate non datur ex-
cessus, neque per eam aut angelus, aut homo, unquam
periculum subire possit. Inclinatio autem ad bonitatem,
altis defixa radicibus, nature humane insidet: que si
benefaciendi materia, aut occasione, destituta, non inve-
niat, quo se exerceat in homines, deflectet certe in brutas
animantes. Quod in Turcis, gente utique seva et fera,
videre est; qui nihilominus erga bruta animalia miseri-
cordes sunt, et eleemosynas canibus et avibus distribuunt.
Adeo ut, (referente Busbequio,) aurifex quidam Venetus,
Byzantii agens, vix furorem populi effugerit, quod avis
cujusdam, rostri oblongi, fauces, inserto baculo, diduxisset.
Neque tamen erroribus suis vacat bonitatis heec, et chari-
tatis, virtus. Nequam apud Italos jactatur proverbium:
“Tanto buon, cheval niente.” Adeo bonus, ut ad nihil
bonus. Neque subveritus est Nicolaus Macciavellus, literis
concredere, idque disertis fere verbis: ‘ Fidem Chris-
tianam, homines probos et innocentes, in preedam tyran-
norum iniquitati dedisse.” Quod ideo pronunciavit, quia
nulla usquam lex, nulla secta aut opinio, tam in immensum
extulit bonitatem, quam religio Christiana. Quo melius
itaque, extra scandali, adeoque periculi ictum et minas,
tuti consistamus, opere pretium erit nosse errores, qui nos
a recto tam insignis habitus tramite, transversos agant.
Ita aliorum bono studeas, ne te illorum interea; aut vulti-
bus, aut voluntatibus, mancipio dedas. Illud enim facili-
tatis, atque mollitiei indicium est, que honestam mentem

DE BONITATE, ET BONITATE NATIVA. 277

in vincula captivam abducit. Neque projicias ASsopi gallo
gemmam, cui gratius et felicius cederet granum hordei.
Dei exemplum, in hac re, pro precepto tibi sit. “ Ille
pluvia sua rigat, sole suo irradiat, justos juxta ac injustos :”
non tamen omnes ex equo, aut opum imbre compluit, aut
honorum, virtutumve splendore, illustrat. Communia
quidem beneficia cuivis sunt communicanda: peculiaria
vero paucis, et cum delectu. Cave autem, ne dum effigiem
sculpas, archetypum destruas. Theologia quippe, amorem
nostri ipsius pro archetypo statuit, amorem proximi pro
imitamento. ‘ Vende omne quod habes, atque elargire
pauperibus, et sequere me.” At noli omne, quod habes,
vendere, nisi venias, et sequaris me: hoc est, nisi ejusmodi
vite institutum ingrediaris, in quo, eque ex parvis opibus,
ac ex magnis, poteris aliis benefacere. Secus, dum rivos
alis, fontem exhauris. Neque interea habitus tantum
bonitatis reperitur ad recte rationis normam applicatus,
-sed etiam in quibusdam hominibus reperitur indoles natu-
ralis ad eam propensa: uti e contra in aliis naturalis
quedam malignitas. Sunt enim, qui ex ingenii proprii
instinctu aversentur aliorum bonum. Et levius quidem
malignitatis genus, in morositatem cedit, aut perversitatem,
aut preecipitem opponendi, et se in singulis difficilem
prebendi, libidinem, et similia: gravius tamen illud,
atque altius, ad invidiam producitur, meramque malitiam.
Hujusmodi homines in alienis calamitatibus fere florent,
easque semper aggravant: non digni certe, qui conferantur
canibus illis, qui Lazari delingebant ulcera; sed muscis,
que cruda queque et excoriata infestant. Non paucos
reperias misanthropos, quibus volupe est deducere homines
ad suspendii ramum, neque tamen arborem habent in
hortis suis, qualem Timon habuit. Ingenia ita disposita,
non injuria vocare licet, humane nature vomicas, et car-
cinomata. Sunt tamen hec ligna accommodatissima, e
quibus fiant Mercurii politici: similia lignis incurvis, que
bene navigiis exstruendis conveniunt, jactationi destinatis,
non autem edibus, que immote manent. Partes autem,
et indicia bonitatis sunt plurima. Si quis se erga hospites
et peregrinos benignum humanumque prebeat, arguit se
mundi civem, sibique cor esse, non instar insule, ceteris
terris avulse, sed continentis, que illis conjungitur: si
compatiatur affictis, nobilitat sua preecordia, que non
secus atque celebrata illa arbor, per sua vulnera, balsamum
exsudat. Si facilis offensas remiserit, et delictorum gra-
tiam fecerit, mentem indicat in alto positam esse, supra

278 DE BONITATE, ET BONITATE NATIVA.

injuriarum jactum et tela. Si pro modicis beneficiis
eratum se exhibeat, argumento est, pluris se estimare
hominum animos, quam sarcinas. Supra omnia, si su-
premum illum, sancti Pauli apostoli, perfectionis fastigium
sit consecutus, ut devoveat se, atque anathematizet a
Christo, propter salutem fratrum, indicio est, proxime
illum accedere ad naturam divinam, et quodammodo
Christo ipsi conformari.

XIV. DE NOBILITATE.

De nobilitate primum agamus, ut est portio reipublice ;
deinde ut est conditio hominum particularium. Monarchia,
in qua nulli prorsus nobiles, semper pura est et absoluta
tyrannis: cujusmodi est imperium Turcicum. Dignitatem
enim regalem diluit nobilitas, et vulgi oculos a prosapia
regia aliquantulum avocat. In democratia vero, proceres
mterdum non desiderantur: imo status ille popularis
multo pacatior est, atque minus factionibus et turbis ob-
nOxius, ubi non sunt stirpes nobilium: illic enim in res
ipsas oculi hominum conjiciuntur, non in personas; vel si
omnino in personas, id fit, tanquam im maxime idoneas
rebus gerendis, minime vero ut ratio habeatur insignium,
aut imaginum. Helvetiorum rempublicam satis florentem
videmus, licet religionis pagorumque diversitas obstare
videatur. Utilitas enim apud illos valet, non dignitas.
Illa gubernandi forma, qua confederate "Belgarum pro-
vincie utuntur, certe eminet: ubi enim paritas. admittitur,
ibi et consilia ineuntur equabilius, et tributa penduntur
alacrius. Nobilium potentia et auctoritas in monarchia,
principi ipsi impertit splendorem, sed potestatem imminulit ;
Sy de vero animos auget, fortunas illorum deprimit.

ene se res habet, cum nobiles non sint potentiores, quam
aut imperil aut justitie ratio postulat: in eo tamen digni-
tatis gradu sustineantur, ut insolentia popularis illorum
reverentia, tanquam obice, retundatur, antequam in regalem
majestatem se effundat. Rursus, numerosa nobilitas, que
eee minus potens est, statum _prorsus depauperat :

inc enim profuse expense: atque insuper, cum necesse
sit, tractu temporis, complures ex nobilibus indigos fieri,
sequitur divortium quoddam, sive malum temperamentum,
inter honores et pecunias.

Quod vero ad nobilitatem spectat in personis particu-
laribus: venerationem certe habet, videre castellum, aut

DE NOBILITATE. 279

edificium antiquum, quod nulla ruina invasit: aut etiam
annosam et proceram arborem solidam et integram: quanto
magis intueri antiquam nobilem prosapiam, a fluctibus
et procellis temporis, illesam. Nobilitas enim nova regiz
potentiz opus est, antiqua vero temporis solius. Qui ad
nobilitatis fastigium primi evehuntur, virtutum claritudine
plerumque posteris eminent, sed innocentia minime. Ad
honores enim raro ascenditur, nisi per mixturam bonarum
et malarum artium. A<quum vero est, ut virtutum suarum
memoria, usque ad posteros permanet; vitiorum vero una
cum ipsis moriatur. Natalium splendor industriam_ple-
runque minuit; atque qui minus est industrius, alienz
invidet diligentie. Ad quod accedit, quod non datur,
quo possint ulterius nobiles promoveri. Qui vero in eodem
loco heret, dum alii ascendunt, invidie stimulis vix carebit.
Contra, nobilitas passivam invidiam omnino lenit ; eo quod
nobiles in honorum possessione nati videntur. Sane reges,
quibus nobiles adsunt prudentes et capaces, negotia sua
mollius fluere sentient, si eos potissimum adhibeant:
etenim, erga hujusmodi proceres populus magis propendet,
utpote natos quodammodo ad imperandum.

XV. DE SEDITIONIBUS ET TURBIS.

Maeuni refert, ut pastores populi prognostica tempestatum
politicarum sciant; que tunc maxime sunt, cum res ver-
gunt ad equalitatem; non secus ac naturales tempestates
circa equinoctia invalescunt. Quemadmodum autem, spe
videre est flatus ventorum, cavos, et veluti a longinquo;
quin et similiter maris tumores occultos, ante procellam ;
idem evenit ingruentibus procellis politicis.

** Tile etiam ccos instare tumultus
Sepe monet, fraudesque, et operta tumescere bella.”

Famosi libelli, et licentiosi et mordaces sermones in status
scandalum, cum passim volitant, et increbrescunt: similiter
novarum rerum rumores mendaces, in regiminis dedecus,
undique jactati, et avide a populo excepti; sunt certe inter
prognostica seditionum. Quo stemmate deducta sit Fama
cum Virgilius depingeret, gigantum sororem eam esse
ponit.
‘« Tilam Terra parens, ira irritata Deorum,

Extremam (ut perhibent) Co Enceladoque sororem
Progenuit,”

280 DE SEDITIONIBUS ET FURBIS.

Quasi fame fuissent seditionum preeteritarum reliquie :
verum sunt ille non minus seditionum futurarum pre-
cursatrices. Recte tamen utcunque notatum est, inter
seditiosos tumultus, et seditiosos rumores, nil aliud fere
interesse, nisi qualis est discrepantia, inter fratrem et soro-
rem, masculum et fceminam. Presertim si eo usque
ingravescat malum, ut actiones status laudatissime, que
merito plausum vulgi mererentur, et populi studia conciliare
deberent, in deteriorem partem traducantur et sugillentur:
hoc enim invidie molem grandem demonstrat; ut recte
ait Tacitus: “ Conflata magna invidia, seu bene seu male-
eles premunt.” Neque propterea sequitur, quod quia
ame iste inter turbarum signa numerentur, ideo earum
suppressio severior remedium contra turbas preestare in-
telligeretur; nam ut plurimum contempte facilius evanes-
cunt, et conatus sedulus eas coércendi nihil aliud fere
efficit, quam ut durent magis.

Item illud genus obsequii in exsequendis jussis, de quo
loquitor Tacitus, pro suspecto habendum: “ Erant in
officio, sed tamen qui mallent imperantium mandata inter-
pretari, quam exequi.” Mandata discutere, detractare,
cavillationibus eluere, quid aliud sunt, quam jugum
jactare, et inobedientiam tentare? presertim ubi in istis
disputationibus circa mandata, qui a parte mandatorum
stant, loqguuntur timide et molliuscule; qui autem adver-
santur, audacius et contumacius.

Etiam (ut bene notat Macciavellus) cum principes, qui
se pro parentibus communibus gere deberent, factioni
alicui se adjungunt, idem fit, ac cum lembus, inclinatione
nimia in alterum latus, evertitur. Hoc temporibus Henrici
tertii Gallorum regis, confirmatum est. FEpse enim, a
principio, in ligam pro exstirpandis protestantibus se recipt
voluit: at paulo post, eadem liga contra ipsum regem
vertit. Cum enim auctoritas principis fit cause cujuspiam
tanquam accessoria, et fortior insurgit aliqua obligatio,
quam vinculum imperii, reges incipiunt de possessione
auctoritatis sue dejici.

Porro cum discordiz, et duella, et factiones, palam et
audacter se ostentant, indicio est reverentiam erga prin-
cipem exui. Motus enim procerum debent esse sicut
motus planetarum, sub primo mobili, (juxta opinionem
receptam) qui rapide quidem circumferuntur secundum
motum primi mobilis, leniter autem renituntur in motu
proprio. Quare si viri primores et nobiles propriis motibus
violenter rapiantur, et (ut scite Tacitus) “ Liberius, quam

DE SEDITIONIBUS ET TURBIS. 281

ut imperantium meminissent;” orbes perturbari mani-
festum est. Reverentia enim id ipsum est, quo reges a
Deo accinguntur, qui eam aliquando disrumpere mini-
tatur: “Solvam cingula regum.”

Rursus, cum aliqua ex quatuor imperii columnis, con-—
cutiatur aut labefactetur, (que sunt, religio, justitia, con-
silium, opes,) tum serenitas precibus imploranda est. Sed
mittamus hec prognostica seditionum, (circa que nihi-
lominus intervenient nonnulla, que is tractandis majorem
lucem prebere possint, in sequentibus,) et primo de materia
seditidnum; postea de earum causis et flabellis; ultimo
de remediis nonnihil dicamus.

Materiam seditionum expendere res est consideratione
dignissima. Tutissima enim via seditiones evitandi, (si
tempora patiantur,) est, ut ipsam materiam e medio tol-
lamus. & enim fomes flamme paratus sit, scintille, que
incendium facient, ex qua parte emicare possint, nemo
facile dixerit. Seditionum materia duplex est: magna
inopia, et presentium rerum tedium. Certissimum est,
tot esse pro turbis vota quot sunt hominum res attrite, et
decocte fortune. Unde illa Lucani observatio de statu
imperii Romani, paulo ante bellum civile ;

“* Hunc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore foenus :
Hinc concussa fides, et multis utile bellum.”

Hoc ipsum, “ Multis utile bellum,” certum est indicium
status ad commotiones et turbas dispositi. Tum si pri-
morum hominum indigentia, ac res accise, cum summa
plebis inopia et paupertate conjungantur, periculum im-
minet grave. Rebelliones enim, que a ventre ortum
habent, pessime. Quantum vero ad alienationes ani-
morum, et tedium rerum presentium; sunt certe illa, in
corpore civili, instar humorum maligniorum in corpore
naturali, qui ad calorem preternaturalem colligendum, et
inflammationes, apti sunt. Nemo autem principum sui
periculi magnitudinem metiatur ex eo, quod justa sint
aut injusta illa, que animos populi alienant: hoc enim
esset vulgus rationis nimium capax putare, qui suo sepe
recalcitrant commodo. Neque etiam ex hoc, quod grava-
mina, ex quibus invidia oritur, grandia sint aut exigua.
Malevolentiz enim ex omnibus iste periculosissime sunt,
ubi plus timetur, quam sentitur. “ Dolendi modus, ti-
mendi non item.” Preterea, in maximis oppressionibus,
ea, que patientiam irritant, etiam animos frangunt: at in
timoribus dispar est ratio. Neque rursus princeps, aut

282 DE SEDITIONIBUS ET TURBIS.

status, alienationem animorum, et invidiam grassantem
minus pendat, quod aut sepius aut diutius, illa fastidia
animorum estuarunt, neque quicquam inde detrimenti
respublica cepit. Verum enim licet sit, quod non omnis
vapor in procellam desinat; ita vere dici potest, ex altera
parte, quod procelle, licet seepius pertranseant, tandem glo-~
merantur et ruunt. Atque, secundum adagium illud His-
panicum, “ funiculus in fine, levissima tensione rumpitur.”

Cause seditionum he sunt: in rebus religionis inno-
vatio; tributa et census; legum et consuetudinum mutatio ;
immunitatum et privileciorum violatio ; oppressio univer-
salis; indignorum ad honores et magistratus promotio ;
alienigene ; caritas annone; milites incuriose dimissi ;
factiones facte desperate ; quicquid denique populum
offendit, simulque eos in causa communi unit, et conspirare
facit.

Quantum ad remedia. Preeservativa queedam confuse,
et in genere, possunt assignari, de quibus disseremus;
curatio autem legitima morbo particulari aptari debet.
Itaque consiliis potius, quam. precepto, relinquenda.

Primum contra seditiones remedium, et preeventio, heec
est; omni cum opera et diligentia causam illam seditionum
materialem, de qua diximus, amovere ; paupertatem intel-
ligo civium, et inopiam. Cui inseruit commercii rationes
bene liberare, et bene librare; artifices et manufacturas
introducere, et fovere ; desidiam et otium profligare; luxum
et profusionem sumptuariis legibus coercere; solum et
agros cultura lucrosissima subigere; rebus venalibus pretia
justa imponere; census et tributa moderari; et similia.
In genere precavendum, ut incolarum multitudo (tem-
poribus scilicet Pacis, quando gladius nihil demetit,) regni
proventus, quibus ali possit non excedat. Neque incolarum
multitudo, utrum superflua sit, nec ne, capitum numero
solum censenda est. Sunto enim pauciores, qui multum
profundunt, et parum lucrantur, plus illi atterent statum,
quam multo plures, qui majore parsimonia degunt, pecu-
nias autem congerunt. Nobilium igitur, et eminentioris
dignitatis hominum, numerus auctus, magis quam pro
analogia plebeiorum, celeriter statum depauperat. Quod
etiam facit clerus numerosus: illi enim sorti reipublice
nihil adunt. Idem quoque fit, cum plures in literis edu-
cantur, quam quibus victum suppeditare possint vocationes
civiles,

Neque preeteruendum est, quod cum omne publicz opu-
lentiee augmentum, ab exteris nationibus lucrifieri necesse

DE SEDITIONIBUS ET TURBIS. 283

sit; (quicquid enim alicubi adjicitur, alibi detrahitur ;)
tria tantum esse, que gens genti vendit; materiam mer-
cium; manufacturam; et vecturam. Que quidem tres
rote, si recte progrediantur, estus divitiarum erunt ube-
riores. Sepius autem contingit illud, de quo loquitur
poeta, “ Materiam superabit opus ;” nempe ut manufactura,
et vectura, materi pretium excedat, et statum magis locu-
pletet. Manifesit sunt hujus Rei testes inferioris Ger-
mani populus; qui quidem fodinas, non subterraneas
illas, sed supra terram pre omnibus gentibus habent
ditissimas.

Nihil autem prius debet esse aut consultius quam ut
videat magistratuum prudentia, ne pecuniarium thesauri
apud paucos recondantur. Aliter enim facile fuerit, rem-
publicam inter magnas opes fame perire. Nummus autem
instar fimi, non fructificat, nisi per terram dispergatur.
Hoc precipue eflicitur, supprimendo, aut saltem coércendo,
voragines illas, foenoris, monopoliorum, et latifundiorum in
pascua conversorum, et similium.

Quantum ad sedandas animorum offensiones, aut saltem
ad amolienda ea, que ab iis proveniunt, pericula; duo
sunt, in omni statu, (ut notum est,) subditorum genera;
proceres et plebs. Queevis harum partium sola, si infensa
sit, non magnum subest periculum. Tardi enim sunt
populi motus, nisi a nobilibus incitentur: nobiles autem
invalidi, nisi vulgus, sua sponte, ad motus aptum et predis-
positum sit: tum periculum revera ingruit, cum potentiores
expectent, dum aque moveantur apud vulgus, ut ita demum
animos exulceratos prodere possint. Fingunt poéte, cceli-
colas Jovem ut vincirent conjurasse; quod ubi Jupiter
accepisset, Minervee consilio, Briareum centimanum accer-
sivit, ut in suppetias et veniret. Proculdubio hoc emblema
monarchas monet, quam tutum et salutare sit eis, plebis
studia conciliare et retinere.

Licentiam nonnullam, sed moderatam, animis gravate
affectis et malevolis indulgere, ut ebulliant eorum dolores,
et in fumos abeant, (modo insolentia absit, et audacia,)
utile sane est. Qui enim humores, ad interiores partes
retrovertit, et vulnus in viscera sanguinem refundere com-
pellit, ulcera mortifera, et exitiala apostemata, inducit.

Ad molliendos exacerbatos et malevolos animos, partes
Epimethei etiam ad Prometheum rite transferri possint.
Neque enim reperitur remedium utilius. Epimetheus, ubi
mala et erumnas evolare sensisset, operculum vasi festinus
imposuit, et in imo dolii spem reservavit. Certe, politice

284 DE SEDITIONIBUS ET TURBIS.

et artificiose spem nutrire, et injicere, ac homines a spe 4
alia in aliam circumducere, ex fortissimis est, contra
venenum malevolentiz, antidotis. Neque certius est in-
dicium prudentis regiminis, et rerum administrationis,
quam ubi homines spe continere possit, cum satisfaciendi
copia non datur; atque ubi res tam provide tractantur, ut
nullum malum ita peremptorie imminere videatur, quin
aliqua se ostendant spei rima ad evadendum: quod eo
minus difficile factu est, quia tam privatis hominibus,
quam factionibus, sibi ipsis adulari insitum est ; aut saltem,
ostentare, in gloriam suam, quod non omnino credunt.

Trita sane est, sed preecellens periculorum, que malevo-
lentiz minantur, cautio, ut prevideatur, ne sit caput aliquod,
ad quod populus infensus et exacerbatus confluere, et sub
cujus presidio in corpus aliquod coire, possit. Caput ego
illum dico, et ducem idoneum, qui nobilitate et existi-
matione celebratur; quique apud malevolos acceptus est
et gratiosus, atque ad quem ora et oculos convertunt ;
quique etiam ipse in rebus suis privatis censetur offensus.
Quod genus virorum, aut statui conciliandum est, idque
non perfunctorie, sed solide; aut per alium aliquem, ex
lisdem partibus retundendum; qui illi alteri se opponat,
atque gratiam popularem, in diversa trahat et secet.

Ubique hoc obtinet, quod factiosas potentias et coitiones,
que contra gubernationem imperii frontem contrahunt,
inter se committere, aut saltem diffidentiam inter eas semi-
nare, remedium haud contemnendum sit. Etenim male
admodum agitur cum republica si illi, qui erga imperium
bene affecti sunt, discordiarum pleni existant; qui vero
infensi, et maligni, arcte conjungantur.

Adnotavi sepius ingeniosa et arguta dicteria, que prin-
cipibus improviso exciderunt, nonnunquam scintillas ad
seditiones injecisse. Exitiale sibi vulnus inflixit Cesar,
eo dicto; “ Sylla nescivit literas, dictare non _potuit.”
Spem enim omnem illud verbulum prescidit, quam homines
imbiberant, aliquando eum dictaturam depositurum. Per-
didit seipsum Galba eo dicto; “ Legi a se militem, non
emi.” Inde enim milites de donativis desperarunt. Probus
item propter eam vocem interiit, “ Si vixero, non opus erit
amplius, Romano imperio militibus.” Etenim ob hee
verba milites animum desponderunt. Sunt et alia haud
pauca ejusdem generis. Interest sane principibus, in rebus
ambiguis, et temporibus anxiis, ut caveant quid dicant ;
preesertim in concisis his sententiis, que veluti spicula
volitant, et ex secreto pectoris eorum emissa putantur.

DE SEDITIONIBUS ET TURBIS. 285

Longiores enim et productiores sermones obtusi sunt, et
minus notantur.

Postremo, in omnes eventus, habeant circa se principes,
personas nonnullas militia et fortitudine spectatas, ad
reprimendas seditiones, in primis motibus. Hoc enim si
desit, magis trepidari solet, in aulis principum, cum turbe
primo erumpunt, quam par esset. Et status eo genere
periculi laborat, quod Tacitus illis verbis innuit; “ Atque
is habitus animorum fuit, ut pessimum facinus auderent
pauci, plures vellent, omnes paterentur.” Isti autem mili-
tares viri, fidi omnino esse debent, et bone existimationis,
potius quam factiosi, aut populares; et cum ceteris pro-
ceribus bene comparati. Aliter remedium morbo gravius.

XVI. DE ATHEISMO.

Minos durum est, credere portentosissimis fabulis Alco-
rani, Talmudi, aut Legende, quam credere, huic universi-
tatis rerum fabricee, mentem non adesse. Itaque Deus
nunquam edidit miraculum, ad atheismum convincendum,
quoniam opera ejus ordinaria, huic rei sufficiunt. Verum
est tamen, parum philosophiz naturalis, homines inclinare
in atheismum; at altiorem scientiam, eos ad religionem
circumagere. Etenim intellectus humanus, dum causas
secundas intuetur sparsas, interdum lis acquiescere possit,
nec ulterius penetrare; verum cum tandem catenam earum,
connexarum inter se, et confcederatarum, contemplari
pergat, necesse habet confugere ad providentiam et dei-
tatem. Imo, et illa schola, que precipue accusatur
atheismi, si quis vere rem introspiciat, religionem demon-
strat clarissime: nempe schola Leucippi, Democriti, et
Epicuri. Etenim longe verisimilius est, quatuor elementa
mutabilia, et unam quintam essentiam immutabilem, recte
ab eterno locata, opus Deo non habere; quam exercitum
atomorum et seminum infinitorum, sine ordine fortuito
vagantium, hunc rerum ordinem, et pulchritudinem, pro-
gignete potuisse, absque edili quodam divino. Dicit

eriptura, “ Dixit insipiens in corde suo, non est Deus :”
non dicit, “ Cogitavit insipiens in corde suo:” adeo ut,
magis intra se hoc asserat, tanquam rem quam lubens
optaret, quam quod penitus hoc credat, et sentiat. Nemo
enim Deos non esse credit, nisi cui Deos non esse expedit.
Nulla alia re sane magis convincitur Atheismum labiis
tantum insidere, cordi autem minime, quam hac, quod

286 DE ATHEISMO.

athei opinionem suam seepe preedicent et defendant, ac si
ipsi sibi diffiderent, aliorumque consensu refocillari cu-
perent. Quinetiam, videas interdum Atheos sibi discipulos
comparare, ut aliz secte faciunt; imo, quod monstri simile
est, quidam ex illis mortem et cruciatus subierunt, potius
quam opinionem suam retractare sustinerent: cum tamen,
si ex animo sentirent, nihil tale esse quale Deus, quid
tandem de ea re satagerent? LEpicuro imponitur; eum
existimationis sue conservande gratia, tenuisse, quod
existerent quidem beate quedam nature, sed que seipsis
fruerentur; neque mundi administrationi se immiscerent.
In qua opinione, aiunt eum, tempori obsecutum, cum revera
Deos esse non putaret. Verum, ut videtur, minus juste
arguitur: verba enim ejus egregia sunt et divina; “ Non
deos vulgi negare profanum, sed vulgi opiniones diis appli-
care profanum.” Plato ipse melius dicere non potuit.
Unde videtur, licet audacia polleret ad divinam rerum
administrationem pernegandam, eam tamen ad naturam
eorum tollendam illi non suffecisse. Indi occidentales,
particularium Deorum suorum nomina preedicant; etsi
nomen nullum generale habeant, quod Deum significet:
exempli gratia, perinde ac ethnici nomina Jovis, Apollinis,
Martis, etc. in usu habuissent, voce autem, qua Deum
exprimerent, caruissent. Quod satis indicio est, populos
maxime barbaros notionem rei habere, licet latitudinem
ejus non comprehendant. Adeo ut contra atheistas, homines
maxime ferini, cum philosophorum subtilissimis, militent.
Atheista contemplativus, raro reperitur; Diagoras, quis,
Bion, et fortasse Lucianus, atque alii pauci; qui tamen
plures esse videntur quam sunt; quoniam omnibus, qui
religionem aliquam, aut superstitionem impugnant, a secta
adversa, solet inuri nomen et nota atheistarum. Sed magni
revera atheiste sunt hypocrite; qui sacra perpetuo trac-
tant, sed sine sensu. Adeo ut eos in fine cauterizatos
evadere, necesse sit. Cause atheismi sunt: divisiones
circa religionem, si plures fuerint ; nam unica divisio, zelum
utriusque partis adauget, verum numerose Atheismum
introducunt. Alia causa sunt, scandala sacerdotum; cum
eo res redeat, quo innuit 8. Bernardus: “ Non est jam
dicere, ut populos, sic sacerdos; quia nec sic eli ut
sacerdos.” Tertia est, consuetudo profana ludendi et
jocandi in rebus sanctis, que sensim reverentiam religionis
atterit. Postremo ponuntur secula erudita, preesertim cum
pace, et rebus prosperis conjuncta. Etenim, calamitates,
et adversa, animos hominum, ad religionem fortius flectunt.

DE ATHEISMO, 287

Qui Deos negant, nobilitatem generis humani destruunt.
Nam certissimum est, hominem brutis cognatum esse,
quatenus ad corpus: quod si, quatenus ad animam, non
intercedat ei cognatio cum Deo, vilis est plane, et ignobilis
creatura. Destruunt quoque magnanimitatem, et hu-
mane nature exaltationem. Cape enim exemplum a cane,
et observa, quantos sibi assumat animal illud spiritus, et
quantam generositatem induat, cum se ab homine, (qui ei
vice est Dei, aut melioris nature) impulsum perspiciat.
Quam fortitudinem liquido cernas tantam esse, quantam
creatura illa, absque fiducia melioris natures, quam proprie,
eequare nullo modo possit. Similiter et homo, ubi inni-
titur, et spem collocat, in divina providentia et gratia,
fiduciam et vires colligit, quales humana natura, sibi
relicta nequiisset attingere. Quare, ut atheismus, in omni-
bus odium meretur, ita et in hoc, quod privet naturam
humanam facultate, se ultra fragilitatem humanam attol-
lendi. Quemadmodum fit, in personis individuis, similiter
fit et in nationibus. Magnanimitatem Romanam, nunquam
gens aliqua equavit. Audi igitur, quid dicat Cicero.
“Quam volumus, licet, patres conscripti, nos amemus,
tamen nec numero Hispanos, nec robore Gallos, nec calli-
ditate Panos, nec artibus Greecos, nec denique hoc ipso
hujus gentis et terre domestico nativoque sensu Italos
ipsos, et Latinos: sed pietate, ac religione, atque hac una
sapientia, quod Deorum immortalium numine omnia regi,
gubernarique perspeximus, omnes gentes, nationesque
superavimus.”

XVII. DE SUPERSTITIONE.

Prasat, nullam aut incertam, de Deo habere opinionem,
quam contumeliosam, et Deo indignam: alterum enim
infidelitatis est, alterum impietatis et opprobrii. Ac
superstitio certe divinitatis est dedecus. Plutarchus, non
abs re, inquit; “ Mallem sane multo, ut homines dicerent,
nunquam fuisse talem in rerum natura virum, qualis fere-
batur Plutarchus; quam ut dicerent, fuisse quendam
Plutarchum, qui liberos suos, recens natos, comedere et
devorare solitus erat; quod poéte de Saturno memorant.”
Quemadmodum autem contumelia superstitionis ingravescit
adversus Deum; ita et periculum majus ab illa incumbit
hominibus. Atheismus non prorsus convellit dictamina
sensus, non philosophiam, affectus naturales, leges, bone

288 DE SUPERSTITIONE.

fame desiderium; que omnia, licet religio abesset, morali
cuidam virtuti externe conducere possunt: at superstitio
hee omnia dijicit, et tyrannidem absolutam, in animis
hominum exercet. Itaque atheismus, turbas in rebus-
publicis raro ciet: homines enim cautos reddit, et securi-
tati sue consulentes. Quin et videmus tempora ipsa, in
atheismum procliviora, (qualia fuerunt Augusti Ceesaris,)
tranquilla fuisse. At superstitio, compluribus regnis et
rebuspublicis, ruinee fuit: introducit enim novum primum
mobile, quod omnes imperil spheras rapit. Magister
superstitionis populus; atque in omni superstitione, sapi-
entes stultis obsequuntur; atque argumenta practice
succumbunt, ordine perverso. Gravis fuit ille sermo, quo-
rundam prelatorum in concilio Tridentino, in quo doctrina
theologorum scholasticorum, plurimum potuit; nimirum ;
“ Scholasticos astronomis similes fuisse, qui eccentricos
circulos, et epicyclos, et hujusmodi orbium machinas finxe-
runt, quo phenomena servarent, etsi satis scirent, nihil
tale revera existere:” eodem modo, etiam scholasticos com-
plura subtilia et perplexa axiomata et theoremata invenisse,
quo practice ecclesiz caverent. Superstitionis cause sunt ;
grati et sensuales ritus ac ceremonie; externe et phari-
saicee sanctitatis excessus; traditionum major quam par
fuerit reverentia, que ecclesiam non potest non onerare ;
stratagemata prelatorum, quibus utuntur ad ambitionem
propriam, et lucrum; nimius intentionum bonarum favor,
qui novitatibus et éedoPpnoxeface januam aperit; exem-
plorum importuna et inepta petitio ab humanis, que in
divina transferantur, que necessario parit fantasiarum
male coherentium mixturam; postremo tempora barbara,
cum calamitatibus et perturbationibus conjuncta. Super-
stitio, sine velo, deformis res est; etenim sicut simie,
similitudo cum homine, deformitatem addit; ita et super-
stitioni, similitudo cum religione. Et quemadmodum, cibi
salubres corrumpuntur in vermiculos; ita ritus et formule
bone et sane, corrumpuntur in observantias pusillas et
superfluas. Quin et, non caret superstitione, quandoque
superstionis fuga; cum se tanto saniorem et puriorem viam
inire putent homines, quanto a superstionibus, prius re-
ceptis, longius deflexerint. Itaque cure esse debet, in
religione reformanda, (ut fit in corpore purgando) ne sana
cum corruptis simul evacuentur; quod fere fit, ubi refor-
matio regitur a populo,

289

XVIII. DE PEREGRINATIONE IN PARTES EXTERAS.

PEREGRINATIO in partes exteras, in junioribus, pars

institutionis est; in senioribus, pars experientie. Qui

proficiscitur in partes exteras antequam in lingua gentis,
quam adit, aliquos fecerit progressus, ad ludum gram-
maticum vadit, non ad peregrinandum. Ut adolescentes
peregrinentur sub tutore, aut servo aliquo experto probo ;

modo talis sit, qui linguam calleat, quique regionem illam

ante adiverit; unde possit eos instruere; que in illa
regione, ubi peregrinantur, digna spectatu et cognitu sint ;
que amicitie et familiaritates contrahende ; que denique
studia et discipline ibi vigeant. Aliter enim adolescentes
peregrinabuntur cucullati, et foras prospicient parum.
Mirabile certe est, in navigationibus, ubi nihil aspici datur
preter celum et pontum, conficere consuesse homines
diaria; verum in peregrinationibus per terram, in quibus tot
res occurrunt observande, plerunque hoc omitti; ac si
fortuita magis in codicillos mererentur referri, quam que
de industria observantur. Diaria igitur in usu sint. Res
spectande et observande sunt iste. Aule principum ;
presertim cum legatos exteros admittunt: judicia et curie,

cum cause perorantur; et similiter consistoria ecclesi-

astica: templa et. monasteria, cum monumentis in illis
extantibus: meenia et munitiones urbium et oppidorum:
portus et sinus: antiquitates et ruine: bibliothece, col-
legia, disputationes, et preelectiones ubi habentur: naves
et carine: palatia, et horti magnifici et amceni prope urbes
magnas: armaria: navalia: celle et horrea publica: loci
excambii: burse: celle mercium; exercitia equitationum,
muneris gladiator, militum delectus et instructio, cum
similibus: comeedie, ille scilicet ad quas homines melioris
note spectatum veniunt: thesauri monilium et vestium:
curlositates et raritates: denique quicquid in locis, que
transeunt, sit celebre aut memorabile. De his omnibus, a
tutoribus, aut servis preedictis, diligenter inquirendum.
Quantum ad triumphos, saltationes sub larva, convivia,
nuptias, funera, supplicia capitalia, et hujusmodi specta-
cula, non opus est ut reducantur hominibus in memoriam ;
attamen non sunt certe illa prorsus negligenda. Si tibi
cordi sit, fructum peregrinationis adolescentis in com-
pendium redigere, utque brevi spatio multum colligat, hoc
faciendum precipio. Primo (ut dictum est) in lingua
aliquis profectus faciendus antequam proficiscatur. Tum
VOL KV U

290 DE PEREGRINATIONE IN PARTES EXTERAS.

adjungendus est, servus aliquis aut tutor, qui regionem
pernorit, ut et jam dictum est. Habeat etiam presto
librum aliquem, aut chartam chorographicam, regionis
illius, ubi peregrinatur; que instar clavis erit ad inqui-
rendum. Conficiat etiam diarium. Ne moretur longius,
in una urbe, aut oppido: plus certe aut minus, prout locus
meretur, sed minime diu. Imo, dum moratur in aliqua
civitate, aut oppido, mutet seepius hospitium, ex una parte
oppidi in alteram ; nam et hoc certe magnes est attrahendi
familiaritates, et consuetudines hominum complurium.
Secludat se ut plurimum a consortio popularium suorum,
atque in iis locis victitet, ubi simul convivantur homines
melioris note, ex natione ubi peregrinatur. Etiam cum
de loco in locum itineratur, paret sibi literas commenda-
torias, ad personam aliquam eminentiorem, degentem in
loco quo se transfert ; ut ejus favore et opera utatur, in ls,
que spectare aut cognoscere desiderat. Hoc modo pere-
grinationis utilitatem accelerare poterit. Quatenus ad
familiaritates et amicitias, que inter peregrinandum adjun-
gende sunt; utilissima omnium est illa secretariorum, et.
ministrorum interiorum quibus legati utuntur: hoc enim
pacto, in una regione peregrinando, etiam plurium regionum
notitiam et experientiam, ad se attrahet, et suget. Visitet
etiam et adeat personas in unoquoque genere egregias,
que magni apud exteros nominis sunt; ut possit notare
quomodo os, vultus, et corporis lineamenta et motus,
respondeant fame. Quantum ad rixas et simultates, cum
cura et diligentia sunt illee vitande. Oboriuntur sepissime
circa amores, compotationes, preesidentiam, et verba contu-
meliosa. Et caveat imprimis quivis a consortio hominum
iracundorum, et qui facile inimicitias suscipiunt; illi enim
eum suis immiscebunt contentionibus: quando peregrinator
domum revertitur, nihilominus regiones, in quibus peregri-
natus est, non relinquat prorsus pone se: verum conservet,
et colat amicitiam eorum, cum quibus familiaritatem con-
traxit, (iis dico qui sunt ex dignioribus,) per literas. Et
peregrinatio. sua potius manifestetur et appareat in ser-
monibus suis, quam in vestitu, aut gestu: etiam in ser-
monibus suis, potius meditetur quid sobrie respondeat,
quam ad narrationes facilis et pronus sit. Illud etiam
in eo sit conspicuum, quod mores patrios cum moribus
exteris, non commutaverit: sed potius quod consuetudines

patrias, lis que peregre didicit, tanquam floribus, asper-
serit.

pe

XIX. DE IMPERIO.

Miser procul dubio est animi status, pauca habere qua
appetas, multa que metuas: attamen hoc ipsum regibus
fere proprium est: qui in supremo gradu collocati, non
habent ad quod aspirent; id quod animos eorum reddit
languidiores: atque e contra habent phantasmata plurima
periculorum et umbrarum volitantium; id quod animos
eorum reddit minus serenos. Hinc etiam emanat et alter
ille effectus, quem Scriptura regibus tribuit; “ ut cor regis
sit inscrutabile :” etenim suspicionum multitudo, et absentia
affectus alicujus predominantis qui reliquis imperet, cu-
jusvis animum reddit exploratu difficilem. Hinc quoque
emanat et illud; quod reges sepenumero desideria sibi
ipsis creent, atque ad nugas animum adjiciant: interdum
ad edificia extruenda; interdum ad ordinem aliquem aut
collegium instituendum; interdum ad personam aliquam
evehendam; interdum ad artem aliquam mechanicam aut
manus excellentiam exercendam ; ut Nero studuit pulsande
cythare, Domitianus sagittis collimandis, Commodus gla-
diatorie, Caracalla aurigationi. Hoc illis incredibile
videtur, qui axioma illud non norunt: Animum huma-
num, magis exhilarari et refici, progrediendo in rebus

-parvis, quam consistendo in rebus grandibus. Videre

etiam est reges, qui sub imperii sui initiis, in victoriis et
provinciis subjugandis, maxime foelices fuerunt; cum vix
possibile sit ut perpetuos progressus faciant, verum ut
fortunam suam aliquando adversam et retrogradam expe-
riantur ; sub fine superstitiosos et melancholieos evasisse :
uti contigit Alexandro Magno, Dioclesiano, ac nostra etate
Carolo quinto; et aliis. Qui enim progredi semper con-
suevit, et in obicem tandem impingitur, sui ipsius favore
excidit, neque amplius res est que fuit.

Dicamus nunc de vera. imperii temperatura; quam
servare, res ardua est, et rara. Etenim tam _temperies,
quam intemperies, ex contrariis consistunt. Verum alia
res est, contraria miscere, alia alternare. Responsum
Apollonii, egregia prudentia plenum est. Interrogabat eum
Vespasianus; “ Quid Neroni ruine fuisset?” Respondit ;
“Nero cytharam perite pulsare, et accommodare noverat ;
at in imperando, chordas interdum nimium distendebat,
interdum eas nimium relaxabat.” Atque certissimum est ;
nihil auctoritatem «que destruere, ac ineequalem, et quasi

292 DE IMPERIO.

subsultoriam, atque intempestivam potentie alternationem,
nunc rigidius intense, nunc laxius remisse.

Veruntamen et hoc verum est, moderni temporis pru-
dentiam, circa principum negotia tractanda, im hoc pottssi-
mum versari, ut conquirantur magis et aptentur remedta
et subterfugia malorum et periculorum, cum ingruerint ;
quam ut prudentia solida et constanti, depellantur et sum-
‘moveantur, antequam impendeant. Verum hoc nihil aliud
est, quam in agone, cum fortuna, experiri. Caveant autem
homines, ne cbdormiscant circa turbarum materias primas,
et inchoamenta. Nemo siquidem scintillam, incendium
parituram, prohibere potest; nec regiones metiri, unde
eruptura sit. In principum negotiis, interveniunt procul-
dubio, multe difficultates et impedimenta; at seepenumero
maxima impedimenta sunt, principum ipsorum affectus et
mores. Etenim principibus frequenter accidit, ut contra-
dictoria plane appetant; sicut recte Tacitus; “ Sunt
plerunque regum voluntates vehementes, et inter se con-
trarie.” At potenti nimiz solcecismus est, credere se
posse finem rei pro arbitrio assequi, neque tamen media
procurare.

Regibus intercedit negotium cum nationibus vicinis,
cum uxoribus propriis, cum liberis suis, cum preelatis et
clero, cum proceribus regni, cum nobilibus secunde classis
sive generosis, cum mercatoribus suis, cum plebe regni,
cum militibus suis. Atque a singulis horum impendent
pericula, nisi adhibeatur cura.

Quod ad vicinos attinet, prescribi non potest regula
aliqua certa cautionis, propter occasionum varietatem ;
unica excepta; que semper tenet. Ea est, ut principes
huic rei perpetuo invigilent, ne quis ex vicinis in tantum
excrescat; (vel novis territoril augmentis, vel commercium
ad se trahendo, vel propius accedendo, et similibus;) quo
majorem nanciseatur ledendi potestatem, quam antea
habuerat. Sane, durante trrumviratu illo regum ; (Henrico
‘octavo Anglo, Francisco primo Gallo, et Carolo quinto
Hispano ;) ea viguit inter ipsos diligentia, ut nemo trium
vel palmam terre acquirere potuisset, quin reliqui duo
statim rem ad equilbrium deducerent; neque pacem
fcenore redimere sustinerent. Idemque prestabat foedus
illud, (cui Guicciardinus securitatem Italie attribuit,)
ictum inter Ferdinandum regem Neapolitanum ; Lorenzium
de Medices, et Ludovicum Sforzam, principes; alterum
Florentiz, alterum Mediolani. Neque recipienda est
opinio, quorundam ex scholasticis ; ‘ Bellum juste suscipi

—

DE IMPERIO. 293

non posse, nisi ob injuriam, aut provocationem preece-
dentem.” Siquidem justus metus imminentis periculi,
etsi violentia aliqua non precesserit, procul dubio Belli
causa est competens et legitima.

Quantum ad uxores; extant exempla ejus generis cru-
delia et atrocia. Livia infamis ob veneficium Augusti.
Roxolana, uxor Solymanni, perniciem intulit Mustaphe
celeberrimo illi principi; atque alias successionem, et
domum, mariti sui, perturbavit. Edwardi secundi regis
Angliz uxor, operam prebuit precipuam, in mariti sui
de regno deturbatione, et nece. Hoc genus periculi maxime
timendum, cum regine liberos ex priore marito susceperunt,
aut in adulterio degunt.

Quantum ad liberos; ab iis etiam orte trageedie plu-
rine. Atque generaliter, suspiciones arrepte a patribus,
in filios suos, infauste extiterunt. Mustaphe (quem
antea nomiinavimus) cedes, stirpi Solymanni adeo fatalis
fuit, ut successio sultanorum, usque in hodiernum diem,
pro suspecto habeatur, velut sanguinis ementiti, quia
Selymus secundus putabatur supposititius. Czedes etiam
Crispi, principis summe spei, inflicta per patrem suum
Constantinum Magnun, similiter ejus familie fatalis fuit ;
siquidem, tam Constantinus, quam Constans, filii ejus,
violenta morte perierunt; et Constantius, qui ex filiis ejus
superstes fuit, decessit sane ex morbo, sed non nisi cum
Julianus contra eum arma cepisset. Ceedes similiter De-
metrii, Philippi secundi Macedonis filii, vertit se in patrem,
qui mortuus est ex meerore et peenitentia. Complura sunt
ejusmodi exempla: verum pauca, aut nulla, ubi patres
aliquid boni, ex hujusmodi diffidentiis, perceperunt ; pra-
terquam cum filii bellum aperte patribus intulerunt; ut
fecit Selymus primus adversus Bajazetem patrem suum ;
et tres filii Henrici secundi, regis Anglie.

Quantum ad prelatos; ab illis etiam, si potentes fuerint
et superbi, periculum ingruit. Ut contigit temporibus
Anselmi, et Thome Becketti, archi-episcoporum Can-
tuariz ; quorum baculi pastorales cum regis gladio concer-
tarunt; licet res illis fuerit, cum regibus animosis et
fastuosis; Guilielmo Rufo, Henrico primo, et Henrico
secundo. At periculum hujusmodi, a prelatis, non est
magnopere pertimescendum, nisi ubi clerus ab auctoritate
et jurisdictione principatus externi pendet; aut etiam ubi
ecclesiastici eliguntur a populo; non autem a rege, vel
patronis ecclesiarum.

Quantum ad proceres; sunt illi certe cohibendi, ct tan-

294 DE IMPERIO.

quam in justa distantia a solio regali continendi; verum
depressio ipsorum, poterit regem fortasse ipsum magis
absolutum reddere, sed interim minus tutum; et minus
efficacem ad ea que cupit perficienda. Hoc notavi, in
historia mea regni Henrici septimi, qui nobiles suos per-
petuo deprimebat: unde factum, ut tempora ejus difficul-
tatibus et turbis plena essent. Nobiles enim, etsi in fide
et officio, versus eum manserint, attamen minime cum eo
cooperabantur in negotiis suis; ita ut ipse fere omnia solus
sustineret.

Quatenus ad nobiles secunde classis; parum periculi
ab illis manare potest, cum sint corpus dispersum. Pote-
rint illi quidem nonnunquam grandia loqui, sed non
multum nocere. Quinimo fovendi sunt, tanquam qui
potentiam nobilitatis superioris optime temperent, ne im-
modice excrescat: atque rursus cum populi gubernacula
immediate tractent, motus populares optime compescunt.

Quod ad mercatores; sunt illi instar vene porte: qui
nisi floruerint, potest quidem regnum aliquod, artus habere
robustos, sed venas vacuas, et habitum corporis macrum.
Vectigalia et portoria immodica, raro regis reditus adau-
gent. Etenim quod in paranus lucretur, in summa deper-
dit; commercii quanto diminuto.

Quantum ad plebem ; ab iis raro creatur periculum, nisi
habeant ductores potentes et populares; aut si introducas
mutationem in religione; vel in consuetudinibus antiquis ;
vel in gravaminibus tributorum ; vel in aliis que victum
eorum decurtant.

Quantum denique ad milites; periculosissima res est, si
in corpus unum cogantur, vel exercitus, vel preesidiorum ;
et donativis insuescant. Cujus clarissima cernimus exem-
pla, in janizariis et preetorianis. Verum militum con-
scriptio, et ad arma tractanda instructio, et in locis diversis,
et sub diversis ducibus, et sine donativis; res sunt utiles,
et salubres, et sine periculo.

Principes corporibus cceelestibus similes: que tempora
felicia, aut infelicia, in fluxu suo producunt; queque
veneratione multa gaudent, requie nulla. Omnia circa
reges precepta, duobus illis monitis clauduntur ; “ Memento
quod es homo;” et, “ Memento quod es Deus, seu Vice-
dei:” quorum alterum pertinet ad potestatem eorum coer-
cendam, alterum ad voluntatem regendam.

295

XX. DE CONSILIO.

SUMMA que intercedit inter homines fides, est illa con-
silium impertiendi. Etenim in alio quovis fidei genere,
partes tantum vite aliis commendamus; terras, bona,
liberos, existimationem, et alia negotia particularia; verum
iis quos nobis consiliarios adhibemus, omnia mandamus.
Quanto magis, qui partes consiliariorum prestant, ad
omnem integritatem et sinceritatem astringuntur ? principes
vel prudentissimi, nullo modo in diminutionem auctoritatis
accipiant, si consilio virorum selectorum utantur. Quin et
Deus ipse consilio non vacat; sed inter nomina magna
Filii sui benedicti ponit; ut consiliarius vocetur. Solo-
monis certe pronunciatum tale: “ In consilio stabilitas.”
Res humane procul dubio, aut primam, aut secundam
agitationem subibunt: si minus consultationum argumentis
jactentur, certe fluctibus fortune jactabuntur ; pleneque
evadent, inconstantia, et mutationum, modo texende, modo
retexende, instar vacillationum hominis ebrii. Sane filius
Solomonis vim consilii expertus est, quemadmodum pater
ejus necessitatem et usum vidit. Etenim regnum Deo
dilectum, primo laceratum et fractum est, consilio pravo,
Cui quidem consilio inuste sunt, ut nobis sint documento,
note ille due, per quas consilia prava, in perpetuum,
dignoscantur; una, quod fuerit consilium juvenile quoad
personas ; altera, quod fuerit violentum quoad subjectum.

Sapientia veterum in parabola adumbravit, tam unionem
et insolubilem conjunctionem consilii cum regibus; quam
prudentem et politicum usum ejusdem per reges adhi-
bendum. Alterum in eo, quod Jovem narrant Metim, (que
vox consilium significat,) in uxorem duxisse; in quo
innuunt consilium imperio sponse ioco esse. Alterum in
eo quod sequitur: quod hujusmodi commentum est. Tra-
dunt, postquam Metis nupta fuisset Jovi, eam gravidam ex
illo factam: Jovem autem non sustinuisse donec pareret,
sed eam devorasse; unde ipsum quoque gravidum factum,
et Palladem armatam ex capite suo edidisse. Que fabula
portentosa arcanum imperi involvit: hoc nimirum; ad
quem modum reges, erga consilium suum sanctius, se
gerere debeant: primum, ut res deliberandas illis commit-
tant; quod est veluti prima conceptio: secundo, cum
elaborate et efformate fuerint, veluti in utero consilii sui ;
atque maturuerint, et partui vicine sint ; tum demum non
permittant amplius consilio suo ut decretum perficiant, ac si

296 DE CONSILIO.

res ex eorum auctoritate penderet; sed negotium ad se
retrahant, et palam omnibus faciant ; decreta et ordinationes
ultimas, (que, quoniam cum prudentia et potestate exeunt,
assimilantur Palladi armate,) a seipsis emanare: neque
solum ab auctoritate sua, verum etiam, (quo magis existi-
mationem suam evehant,) ab ingenio et auctoritate propria
provenire.

Dicamus jam de incommodis consilii; et de ipsorum
remediis. Incommoda, que se produnt, in consilio utendo,
et adhibendo, sunt tria. Primo, quod hec res, negotio
minus reddat secreta. Secundo, quod derogare videatur
de auctoritate principum, ac si minus ex se penderent.
Tertio, quod subsit periculum a consiliis infidelibus, que
tendant potius in commodum consulentis, quam principis
ipsius. Ad que mala evitanda, doctrina quorundam ex
Italis; et practica apud Gallos, temporibus quorundam
regum, introduxit consilia interiora, que vulgo vocantur
cabinetti: remedium sane morbo deterius.

Quantum ad occultationem consiliorum; non tenentur
principes, omnia cum omnibus consiliarlis communicare ;
sed tam personas, quam negotia, cum delectu, excerpere
possunt. Neque necesse est principi, qui deliberat quid
sit agendum, simul detegere quid in animo habeat statuere.
Verum caveant principes, ne propalationis negotiorum
suorum, ipsi in causa sint. Quatenus vero ad consilia,
quos diximus cabinettos, in illos diverbium illud competit ;
“ Plenus rimarum sum.” Futilis quispiam, qui gloriz sibi
duxerit, arcana nosse et retegere ; plus nocebit, quam com-
plures, qui bene norunt, officii sui esse, eadem reticere.
Verum est, intervenire negotia quedam, ejus generis, que
eccultationem summam requirunt, qualis non facile ultra
notitiam unius aut duorum preter ipsum regem, excedet:
neque improspere cedere solent istiusmodi consilia: nam
preeterquam quod secreta sint, procedunt plerunque con-
stanter, et uno quasi spiritu reguntur, absque contentione.
Sed tum demum, hoc recte cedet, si rex prudens sit, et
proprio marte validus; et simul consiliarii ili sint sagaces ;
et ante omnia, finibus, quos sibi proponit rex, fidi. Id
quod contigit Henrico septimo Anglie regi: qui arcana sua
majoris momenti, duobus tantummodo consiliariis imper-
tiebatur, Mortono, et Foxo. .

Quantum ad auctoritatem minuendam ; fabula remedium
monstrat. Imo majestas regum, exaltatur potius quam
deprimitur, cum in cathedra consilii sedeant. Neque un-

DE CONSILIO. 297.

quam invenire est principem, auctoritate sua imminutum,
per consilium suum; nisi forte ubi obtigerit, potentia
nimia in uno aliquo consiliario ; aut nimis arcta combinatio
inter diversos: que duo mala cito deprehenduntur, et
sanantur.

Quantum ad postremum incommodum; consiliarios
nimirum, in consilio dando, sue rei prospecturos, non
domini; minime dubium est; Scripturam illam; “ Non
inveniet fidem super terram,” intelligi debere de natura
temporum, minime de personis singulis. Reperiuntur
siquidem viri, fideles, sinceri, candidi, et veraces ; minime
vatri aut involuti. Asciscant sibi principes, ante omnia,
ingenia talia. Preeterea consiliarii raro ita inter se uniuntur,
quin alius super alium excubias agat; adeo ut, si quis
consilia det factiosa, aut ad privatos fines collimantia,
celeriter hoc ad aures principis deveniet. Remedium
autem prestantissimum fuerit, sireges dent operam ut con-
siliarios suos pernoscant ; quemadmodum ili, ut principem ;

Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos.

Contra vero, consiliarios non decet, nimios esse rimatores,
in personam principis sui. Vera enim consiliarii constitutio
hec; ut peritior sit in negotiis principis, quam in moribus
ejus. Sic enim verisimile fiet, eum consilium potius recta
directurum, quam se principi accommodaturum quo com-
placeat. Principibus etiam hoc magno usui esse possit ; si
opiniones et vota consiliariorum suorum, et divisim, et con-
junctim, recipiant. Etenim opinio, in secreto prolata,
liberior multo est; sed illa que coram aliis, gravior. Nam
in privato quisque propriis affectibus plus inservit; in
consortio aliorum affectibus magis obnoxius est: itaque
neutrum omittendum; atque ab inferioribus, in privato
potius, ut libertati consulatur ; a grandioribus, in consortio
potius, ut modestius sententiam ferant. Nil prodest, si
principes de rebus deliberent, nisi diligenter quoque delibe-
rent de personis: etenim res omnes, tanquam imagines
mortue; vita autem actionis in delectu personarum potis-
simum consistit. Neque sufficit de personis deliberare,
secundum genera, veluti in idea quadam, aut descriptione
mathematica ; qualis videlicet character et conditio persone
esse debeat: etenim errores maximi interveniunt, et judicii
libra maxime versatur, in delectu individuorum. I[llud
quoque memoria tenendum; optimi consiliarii mortui:
libri veritati non parcunt, cum consiliarii forte in adula-~

298 DE CONSILIOQ.

tionem lapsuri sint. Utile itaque fuerit, libros multum
revolvere ; presertim eorum auctorum, qui et ipsi guber-
nacula rerum tractarunt.

Consilia, hac ztate, in” locis plurimis, nihil aliud fere
sunt, quam congressus, et colloquia familiaria: ubi res
potius sermonibus jactentur, quam debitis argumentis truti-
nentur. Atque plerunque precipitanter nimis, ad decretum
vel actum consili, properatur. Satius esset, si in majoris
momenti negotiis, res uno die deliberanda proponeretur,
altero tractaretur; “ In nocte consilium.” Id certe pre-
stitum est, in tractatu unionis, inter delegatos Anglie et
Scotiz ; qui conventus, regulariter, et optimo ordine, pro-
cessit. Ad petitiones autem privatas, dies aliquos preefigi
probo: nam et supplicantibus tempora certa indicant,
quibus commodius se applicent; et solenniores conventus
exonerant, ut possint hoc agere. In delectu deputatorum,
qui negotia ad consilium informandum preeparent, preestat
eos eligere, qui equi sint, et in neutram partem propen-
deant; quam equitatem quandam creare, introducendo
aliquos qui utrique parti sedulo faveant. Probo etiam
delegationes, non tantum temporaneas, aut e re nata; sed
etiam continuatas, et perpetuas. Exempli gratia; que
curent separatim, commercia ; erarium; bellum; gratias ;
gravamina ; provincias particulares. Sane, ubi in usu sunt
consilia subordinata diversa, atque unicum tantum superius
consilium, (ut sit in Hispania,) nihil aliud fere sunt ejus-
modi consilia, quam deputationes (quales diximus) per-
petue, nisi quod majore auctoritate polleant. Si casus
postulet, ut informetur consilium, ab hominibus alicujus
muneris aut professionis particularis, (veluti jurisperitis,
nauticis, excusoribus nummorum, mercatoribus, artificibus,
et similibus,) audiantur illi primo coram delegatis; et
postea, prout occasio postulat, coram consilio. Neque
permittantur venire catervatim, aut more tribunitio se
gerere ; hoc enim foret, clamoribus consilium fatigare, non
informationem, ut decet, exhibere. Mensa oblonga, et
rursus quadrata, sive sedes ad parietes camere consilii,
videri possunt, formalia tantum, sed sunt profecto realia:
nam ad mensam oblongam, pauci qui prioribus locis
sedent, res quasi soli transigunt; verum in aliis, quas
diximus, figuris, major usus consiliariorum qui inferius
sedent. Rex, cum presidet ipse in consilio, caveat, ne
sententiam suam, citius quam par est, declaret: hoc si
fecerit, consiliarii se ad nutum ejus applicabunt; et loco
consilii liberi, canticum ei occinent; “ placebo.”

299

XXI. DE MORA.

Fortuna foro rerum veenalium similis’est; ubi sepe (si
paululum expectare poteris,) minuetur pretium. Rursus,
aliquando Sibylle licitationibus assimilatur; que primo
plenas offert merces, mox partes aliquas consumens, inte-
grum tamen pretium postulat. Nam “ occasio (ut in trito
habetur carmine,) occipitium nobis obvertit calvum,
postquam capillorum in fronte copiam fecit non arripi-
entibus :” vel saltem utris ansam preebet primo accipiendam ;
dein ventrem, qui difficilius comprehenditur. Nusquam
certe major apparet sapientia, quam in tempestivis nego-
tiorum auspiciis, principiisque eligendis: non jam levia
sunt pericula, si levia videantur; et plura pericula fefel-
lerunt, quam vim intulerunt. Quinimo, satius est, quibus-
dam periculis, quasi media via occurrere, quam eorum
motus, et appropinquationem, perpetuo inquirere, et ob-
servare. “ Qui enim nimium invigilat, interdum dormitat.”
E-contrario, umbrarum longitudine decipi, (ut quidam
olim, quando luna horizonti proxima, hostium terga irra-
diabat,) atque ita ante tempus tela emittere ; aut pericula,
premature obviando, accersere, alterum est extremum.
Nam opportunitatis maturitas, vel immaturitas, est (ut
antea diximus) ad amussim examinanda. Ac, ut plurimum,
expedit, omnium magnorum negotiorum principia, Argo
cum centum oculis suis, exitus vero, Briareo cum centum
manibus suis, committere: primum scilicet invigilare,
postea accelerare. Etenim Orci galea, que politicum
vere reddit invisibilem, est, consiliorum occultatio, et expe-
ditionum celeritas. Cum enim ad executionem ventum sit,
nulla occultatio celeritati est equiparanda; more globuli e
tormento emissi, qui tam velocitur pertransit, ut ipsany
oculorum aciem antevertat.

XXII. DE ASTUTIA.

PerR astutiam intelligimus, sinistram quandam et obliquam
prudentiam. Et pro certo est, multum interesse, inter
astutum, et prudentem; non solum, quatenus ad_ probi-
tatem, sed etiam quatenus ad mentis vires. Sunt qui
chartas pictas artificio quodam miscere sciunt, qui tamen
periti lusores non sunt; sunt itidem nonnulli, qui in com-
petitionibus, et factionibus regendis, multum valent, alias

300 DE ASTUTIA.

vero infirmi judicii sunt. Rursus, alia res est personarum
naturas et mores callere, alia vero negotia pernosse: sunt
enim haud pauci, qui in personarum aditibus, et tem~-
poribus, versuti sunt, neque tamen partis realis, negotiorum,
sunt capaces: que est constitutio ipsissima hominum ;
qui in personis dignoscendis, non in libris evolvendis,
operam collocarunt. Tales magis in pragmaticis adhiberi
debent, quam in consiliis; et non aliter fere usum sui
prebent, quam in viis, quas seepe contriverunt. Converte
eos ad homines novos, et artibus suis excidunt: adeo ut,
vetus illa regula, stultum a sapiente dignoscendi, (“ Mitte
ambos ad ignotos et videbis,”’) de hujusmodi hominibus
non teneat. Quoniam autem astuti isti homines, similes
sunt pusillarum mercium propolis, non abs re fuerit,
officinas ipsorum excutere.

Inter astutias numerari potest, ut quis vultum ejus cum
quo colloquitur, limatius observet: quod etiam jesuite
precipiunt. Sunt enim complures, iique ex prudentioribus,
qui corda habent obscura, vultus autem pellucidos. Verum,
decet hoc ficri, cum modesta oculorum, per vices demis-
sione, quemadmodum et fuciunt jesuite.

Altera existit astutia, ut cum aliquid propere, et facile
obtinere et expedire cupias, personam cum qua agis, de
alio quopiam negotio sermonem inferendo, deteneas et
preoccupes; ne nimium ad objectiones et scrupulos evi-
gilet. Equidem noveram consiliarium quendam, et secre-
tarium, qui nunquam ad Elizabetham reginam Anglie, ad
diplomata manu regine signanda, accessit, quin a principio
lam, in aliquos de rebus status gravioribus sermones per-
duceret, ut hisce intenta ad diplomata minus animum
adjiceret.

Idem valet subite prehensionis ratio, si quis rem pro-
ponat, quando persona, cum qua agitur, ad alia festinat,
ae moram pati potest rem accuratius considerandi.

i cui in animo est, negotium aliquod destruere, quod
alius fortasse quispiam dextre et cum effectu propositurus
fuisset, ipse se erga negotium bene affectum simulet, atque
ipse rem proponat, sed eo modo, ut successum ejus <is-
turbet.

Abruptio sermonis in medio, quasi quis seipsum depre-
henderet, et contineret, majorem generat appetitum, in eo
quocum colloqueris, ad ulterius inquirendum.

Quoniam autem imprimit fortius quod questione erutum
est, quam quod sponte oblatum, possis ad inescandam
queestionem insolitum induere vultum: ex quo occasio

.DE ASTUTIA. 301

-detur alteri interrogandi, quid sibi velit ista oris mutatio ?

Ut Nehemias fecit; “ Neque ante illud tempus tristis
fueram in conspectu regis.”

In rebus ambiguis, et ingratis bonum est initia, de iis
sermonem inferendi, alicui alteri deputare, cujus verba
minoris sint ponderis, et majoris auctoritatis vocem, in
subsidiis reservare, veluti casu fortuito intervenientem, ut

‘interrogetur ille superveniens, de eo sermone, qui ab altero

injectus est. Quod fecit Narcissus, cum indicaret Claudio,
matrimonium Messaline et Silii.

In rebus, quas a se amoliri quis cupiat, non inutile est,
vulgi nomen mutuari: ac si quis tali formula utatur; “ Hoe
vulgo dicitur,” aut “.Increbuit sermo.”

Noveram quendam, qui cum literas scriberet, id, quod
maximi erat momenti, post-scripto semper includebat, ut
rem fere preetermissam. ;

Noveram et alium, qui cum ad colloquium cum alio
veniret, id quod maxime ei in sermone cure erat, preeterire
solitus erat, et discedere, et rursus redire, et tum demum
ejus rei mentionem facere, ac si illa fere e memoria exci-
disset.

Alii se subito deprehendi procurant, tali tempore, quo
verisimile est, partem cui insidiantur, superventuram: ac
simul se chartam aliquam, in manu habentes, aut aliquid
preter consuetudinem agentes, inveniri volunt ; ut interro-
gentur de iis rebus, quas revera ipsi eloqui cupiunt.

Astutiz species satis vafra est, ea verba proprio nomine
prolata, sibi excidere pati, que alium arripere, et ls uti,
quis expetit, ut inde alterum irretiat, et subruat. Noveram
duos, pro officio secretarii, tempore regine Elizabethe
competitores; qui tamen se invicem amice tractabant.
Quique de negotio ipso competitionis suze spius confe-
rebant: atque alter ipsorum dicebat; “ Fieri secretarium
in declinatione monarchie,” rem esse hand parvi periculi;
seque illud genus honoris minime ambire. Alter statim
verba illa, callide prolata, bona fide arripuit; et cum
amicis suis nonnullis libere sermones conseruit, dicens, se
in declinatione monarchiz muneris secretarii ambitiosum

-esse non debere. Prior ille occasione usus est, eaque verba

ut ad regine aures pervenirent, tanquam scilicet ab altero
prolata curavit: que indignata circa illa verba, in decli-
natione monarchie, cum ipsa se vigentem reputaret, pos-
terioris illius competitionem, nunquam postea admisit.

Est astutie quoddam genus, quod Anglico proverbio,
“ Felem in aheno vertere,” satis absurde dicitur; cum ea

302 DE ASTUTIA.

verba, que quis apud alium profert, imputat colloquenti,
tanquam ab ipso prolata. Kt, ut verum dicamus, cum
talia aliqua verba inter duos agitata fuerint, difficile est
probare et verificare, ab utro primum incceperint.

Est artificium in usu, ut quis in alios spicula quedam
oblique torqueat, justificando seipsum, per negativas, ut-
pe dicendo; “Hoc ego non facio;” ut tigillinus fecit

urrhum sugillando; “ Se non diversas spes, sed inco-
lumitatem imperatoris, simplicitur spectare.”

Nonnulli in promptu habent tot narrationes et historiolas,
ut nihil sit quod insinuare cupiunt, quin id historiola aliqua
involvere possint: unde, et semagis in tuto continent, quasi
nihil diserte affirmantes, et rem ipsam majore cum voluptate
spargi efficiunt.

Bonum est astutie genus, ut quis responsum, quod
obtinere cupit, conceptis verbis proponat. Etenim alteram
partem minus heerere facit.

Mirum est cernere, quamdiu nonnulli occasionem captent,
dicendi illud, quod proferre cupiunt, et quanto circuitu uti
sustineant ; et quot alia attingere, ut quo volunt perveniant.
Res certe hec, magne patientiz, sed multi usus.

Improvisa, et audax questio, aliquando hominem depre-
hendit, et detegit. Simile quiddam evenit cuidam, qui
nomen mutaverat, et in templo divi Pauli obambulans, fuit
ab alio, per nomen suum verum, a tergo compellatus, ad
quod statim retrospexit. Verum merces he pusille, et
astutie minores, sunt infinite. Neque male factum esset,
si quis earum conficeret uberiorem calalogum ; Quoniam
nihil rebus obest magis, quam quod astuti recipiantur pro
prudentibus.

Illud pro certo habendum, nonnullos, negotiorum periodos
et pausas, nosse, qui in ipsorum viscera, et interiora, pene-
trare nequeunt: ut reperiuntur zdes nonnull, que gradus
nacte sunt commodos, et anticameras, sed absque cubiculo
aliquo pulchriore. Itaque tales videbis in conclusionibus
deliberationum commodos quosdam exitus reperire. Ad
rem vero examinandam, et disceptandam, nullo modo
sufficere. Attamen, sepenumero ex hac re existimationem
quandam aucupantur ; veluti ingenia que ad decernendum,
potius quam disputandum, sint aptiora. Sunt qui magis
innituntur dolis, quos aliis struunt; quam consiliis solidis
et sanis; sed Solomon ait; “ Prudens advertit ad gressus
suos ; stultus divertit ad dolos.”

303

XXIII. DE PRUDENTIA QU SIBI SAPIT.

Formica animalculum sibi sapiens, sed in horto nocivum.
Et sane fit, ut qui sui nimium amantes sint, reipublice
ledant. Partire itaque moderate, inter amorem tui ipsius,
et amorem reipublice: atque ita tibi sis proximus, ut in
alios non sis injurius: presertim, in regem tuum, aut
patriam. Centrum plane ignobile est, actionum hominis
cujuspiam; commodum proprium. Recte terrestrem na-
turam sapit. Terra enim suo stat fixa centro; ubi que
affinia ccelestibus sunt omnia, moventur super centrum
alterius, cui benefaciunt. Ad se omnia referre, tolerabilius
est in viris principibus ; quia ipsi intra personam suam non
consistunt ; sed publico periculo, et fortuna, degunt. Verum
in servo principis, aut cive reipublice res est perniciosissima.
Etenim negotia publica universa, que ab id genus homine
expediuntur, ad Fines proprios flectuntur; quos necesse
est, eccentricos seepe esse, ad fines domini, sive status sul.
Eligant itaque principes, et status, ministros et servos, qut
hae nota non maculantur; nisi velint res suas accessorii
tantum loco esse. Imo quod hunc effectum reddit magis
exitiosum, illud est ; quod amittitur plane rerum analogia.
Satis enim iniquum esset, si bonum servi, preeferatur bono
domini; sed adhuc longe iniquius est, cum exiguum bonum
servi, antefertur magno bono domini. Veruntamen id
sepius factum est, per officiarios pravos; veluti thesau-
rarios, legatos, duces, et alios servos aut ministros infideles
et improbos: qui globulo suo pondus addunt finium suorum
minutorum, quod eum in transversum inclinet utilitatis
domini sui, in rebus gravioribus et magni momenti. Et
plerunque commodum, quod ejusmodi servi ad se attrahunt,
est pro modulo fortune proprie ; at detrimentum, quocum
permutent commodum illud, est pro modulo fortune domini
sui. Siquidem philantorum istiusmodi ingenium patitur ;
ut non morentur domum proximi incendere, pro re nihilo
majore, quam ad assanda ovasua. Veruntamen hujusmodi
ministri, haud raro, apud viros potentes, gratia pollent ;
quia illis jucunda procurant, sibi utilia: atque utriusvis
rei causa, fortunam domini sui prodent.

Prudentia que sibi uni sapit, in plurimis ejus ramis, res
sane depravata. Assimilanda sapientiz soricum, qui
domum aliquam pro certo deserent, paulo ante ruinam:
sapientiz vulpis, que taxonem e domo expellit, quam sibi
defodit, non illi: sapientize crocedili, qui lachrymas emittit,

304 DE PRUDENTIA QU SIBI SAPIT.

cum devorare cupit. Verum illud imprimis observationem
meretur; quod hujusmodi homines, qui (ut Cicero loquitur
de Pompeio,) “ sui sunt amantes sine rivali ;” sepenumero
infortunati sint: cumque sibi, per totam vitam, sacrifica-
verint, in exitu sacrificant inconstantie fortune; cujus
alas sperabant se pulchra illa sapientia sua preescidisse.

XXIV. DE INNOVATIONIBUS.

Sicur partus recens editi informes sunt, sic videre est in
novis institutis, que sunt partus temporis. Veruntamen,
ut qui in familiam suam honores primi introducunt, posteris
suis plerunq ; dignitate prelucent; ita rerum exemplaria,
et primordia, (quando feliciter jacta sunt,) imitationem
etatis sequentis, ut plurimum, superant. Malum enim, in
natura humana, naturali motu fertur, qui processu inva-
lescit; at bonum, ut fieri amat in violentis motibus, in pri-
‘mo impetu fortissimum. Certe, omnis medicina innovatio
est: et qui nova remedia accipere nolit, nova mala expectet.
Novator enim maximus omnium tempus. Quod si tempus,
decursu solo, res in pejus ferat; prudentia vero et industria,
eas in melius restituere non contendat, quis tandem erit
finis mali? Hoc concedi prorsus debet ; quod consuetudine
firmatum est, etsi minus sit bonum, aptum esse tamen
temporibus; queeque uno quasi alveo fluxerunt, foedere
quodam conjuncta esse; ubi contra nova veteribus non
usquequaque tam concinne cohereant: Etsi enim utilitate
juvent; novitate tamen et inconformitate turbant. Sunt
certe novitates, tanquam advene aut peregrini, quos
admiratione plus, minus benevolentia prosequimur. Recte
quidem hee omnia, si tempus quiesceret ; hoc tamen inde-
fesse in orbem agitatur. Inde fit, ut importuna et morosa
moris retentio, res turbulenta sit, eque ac novitas; et qui
vetera supérstitiose nimis reverentur, cedant in preesentis
seculi ludibrium. Prudenter igitur facient homines, si, in
innovationibus suis, a tempore exemplum petant: tempus
enim innovat vel maxime, sed tacite, pedetentim, ac sine
sensu. Illud enim pro certo habeas; quod novum est
preter spem et expectationem accedere; et huic adjicere
aliquid, illi eripere; at cui incremento est novitas, ille
fortune gratias habet, et tempori; cui vero nocumento, is
novitatis auctorem injuriarum postulat. Expedit preeterea,
experimentis novis, In corporibus politicis medendis, non
uti; nisi urgens incumbat necessitas, aut evidens se

DE INNOVATIONIBUS. 305

ostendat utilitas : et sedulo cavere, ut reformationis studium
mutationem inducat, non autem studium mutationis refor-
mationem pretexat. Quinetiam omnis novitas, quam
rejicere fortasse non datur, pro suspecta tamen haberi
debet. Denique, ex Scripture monito; “ Stemus super
vias antiquas, atque circumspiciamus, que sit via bona, et
recta, et ambulemus in ea.”

XXV. DE EXPEDIENDIS NEGOTIIS.

CELERITAS nimia et affectata, negotia, ut plurimum, perdit.
Similis est illi rei, quam medici predigestionem, sive pre-
properam digestionem, vocant: que corpus implere solet
humoribus crudis, et secretis seminibus morborum. Itaque
negotiorum expeditionem ne metiaris, per tempora consu-
lendi, sed per negotii ipsius progressum. Et quemad-
modum in cursu, minime in passus granditate, aut pedum
elevatione altiore, celeritas consistit, sed in motu eorundem
humiliore, et equabili; ita in negotiis, mordicus rei
inherere, neque partem negotii nimiam pro una vice avide
amplecti, celeritatem in conficiendo procurat. Cure est
nonnullis illud tantum, ut brevi tempore multum confe-
cisse videantur ; aut ut periodos aliquas negotiorum falsas
confingant, quo acres in negotiis existimentur: verum aliud
est, tempori parcere, negotium contrahendo, aliud interci-
dendo: negotia autem in eum modum tractata; crebris
nimirum congressibus; plerunque sursum deorsum feruntur,
magna inconstanita. Novimus virum prudentem, cui
semper in ore erat, cum festinationem nimiam videret ;
“ Manete paulisper, ut expediamus celerius.”

Ex altera parte, vera celeritas, in expediendis negotiis,
res est pretiosa. Tempus siquidem negotiorum, sicuti
pecunia mercium, est mensura: emitur igitur negotium
magno, ubi nimia est protractio. Spartani, et Hispani,
tarditatis notati sunt: “ Mi venga la muerte de Spagna:”
Veniet mors mea ab Hispania: tum, scio, cunctanter
veniet.

Aurem illis preebe facilem, quibus prime in informatione
negotil, partes demandate sunt: et potius viam illis
monstres ab initio, quam postea in orationis filo crebrius
interrumpas. Qui enim in ordine, quem sibi prestituit ;
perturbatur, subsultabit, et prolixior fiet, dum memoriam
suam recolliget ; quam alias futurus fuisset, si sua methodo

VOL, XV. x

306 DE EXPEDIENDIS NEGOTIIS.

perrexisset. Sed interdum videre est, moderatorem mo-
lestum esse magis, quam oratorem.

Repetitiones plerunque cum temporis jactura fiunt:
attamen statum questionis sepe repetere, lucrum est
temporis vel maximum. Etenim complures_ sermones,
prorsus abs re, in ipso partu, abigit. Orationes prolixe et
curios, eque expeditioni negotiorum conveniunt, ac toga
prelonga, terram verrens, cursui. Preefatiuncule, transi-
tiones belle, et excusationes, atque alia verba, que ad
personam loquentis referuntur, tempus haud parum de-
vastant ; et licet a modestia emanare videantur, sunt tamen
revera gloriole captatrices. Sed cave, ne in rem ipsam,
ab initio, descendas, cum in hominum voluntatibus, im-
pedimentum aliquod reperiatur, aut obstructio: etenim
animorum pre-occupatio sermonum semper postulat pre-
fationes: instar fomentationis ante unguentum, quo ungu-
entum mollius subintret.

Ante omnia, ordo, et distributio, et partium apta extractio,
celeritatis tanquam vita est: ita tamen ut distributio non
sit nimium subtilis. Nam qui partitione non utetur, in
negotia nunquam commode ingredietur; qui autem nimia
utetur, vix emerget. Tempora prudenter deligere, tempus
plurimum lucratur; atque intempestiva propositio, nil
aliud, quam aerem verberare, et tempore abuti. Tres sunt
negotiorum partes: preparatio; cousultatio sive exami-
natio; et perfectio: harum, (si expeditioni consulere in
animo est,) media, sit opus multorum; prima autem, et
ultima, paucorum procedendi in negotiis, initium sumere,
ab iis que scripto comprehensa sunt, plerunque expedi-
tionem promovet: licet enim contigerit, ea in totum rejici,
nihilominus negativa illa, plus valebit ad consilia educenda,
quam indefinita; quemadmodum cinis magis generativus,
quam pulvis.

XXVI. DE PRUDENTIA APPARENTE.

RecEPTa est opinio, Gallos prudentiores esse quam viden-
tur, Hispanos autem prudentiores videri quam sunt. Sed
utcunque se res habeat inter gentes, certum est hoc usu
venire inter personas singulares. Sicut enim loquitur
apostolus de pietate; ‘“ Speciem pietatis habentes, sed
virtutem ejus negantes ;” ita certe inveniuntur nonnulli,
qui nugantur solenniter, cum prudentes minime sint;
“ Magno conatu nugas.” Res est profecto prudentibus

4
|
‘
“

DE PRUDENTIA APPARENTE. 307

ridicula, et satyra digna, affectatores istos videre ; in quot
formas se vertant, et quali utantur arte quasi prospectiva,
qua superficies appareat corpus, quod profunditatem, aut
dimensionem solidi habeat. Ali tam secreti sunt, et in se
declarando parci, ut merces suas, nisi sub obscura luce,
ostendere nolint; et videri volunt, plus significare, quam
loqui : cumque sibi ipsis conscii sint, se de iis rebus loqui,
quas non bene norunt; cupiunt nihilominus videri, se illa
nosse, que non possunt tuto loqui. Ali vultu et gestu
verbis suffragantur, et veluti per signa sapiunt: ut Cicero
ait de Pisone; “ Respondes, altero ad frontem sublato,
altero ad mentum depresso supercilio; crudelitatem tibi
non placere.” Alii se valere putant, si grande quiddam
loquantur, idque stilo peremptorio: itaque nihil morantur,
et pro admissis accipiunt, que probare non possunt. Sunt,
qui, quicquid sub captum eorum non cadit, spernere, aut
parvi pendere pre se ferunt, tanquam impertinens et
curlosum ; sicque inscitiam suam pro judicio limato obten-
dunt. Alii distinctionem aliquam semper in promptu
habent; et plerunque hominum ingenia subtilitate per-
stringendo, rem pretervehuntur. De quo genere loquitur
Aulus Gellius; “ Hominem delirum, qui verborum mi-
nutiis, rerum frangit pondera.” Ad quod exemplum,
Plato in Protagora, per ironiam, introducit Prodicum ;
sermonem integrum contexentem ex distinctionibus, a prin-
cipio usque ad finem. Generaliter, istiusmodi homines,
in consultationibus, negative libenter se applicant; et
existimationem quandam aucupantur, ex scrupulis et
difficultatibus proponendis et predicendis; etenim cum id
quod proponitur, penitus rejicitur, nil ultra restat agendum ;
sin probatur, nova indiget opera: quod prudentie genus
spurium negotia prorsus perdit. Ut verbo dicamus; nec
mercator aliquis oberatus, nec decoctor rei familiaris oc-
cultus, tot artificiis se muniet, ad divitias simulandas ; quot
homines isti, vera prudentia destituti, utuntur, ad prudentic
Suz opinionem tuendam. Certe, homines hac prudentia
prediti, opinionem vulgi facile aucupari possunt ; sed ad
negotia gravia tractanda, nemo talium delectum faciat:
etenim, ad negotia promovenda, satius proculdubio fuerit,
virum eligere paulo absurdiorem, quam hujusmodi forma-
listam fastidiosum.

308

XXVII. DE AMICITIA.

Res sane difficilis esset, etiam illi qui dixerit, plus veri ac
falsi, idque compendio miscuisse, quam in illo scito;
“‘ quicunque solitudine delectatur, aut fera, aut Deus est.”
Negari enim non potest, quod insitum et latens odium, seu
fastidium societatis, si in aliquo deprehendatur, sapiat
nescio quid belluinum: illud tamen e converso, quod
aliquam divine nature speciem pre se ferat, falsissimum
est ; nisi hujusmodi vida solitaria minime ab amore ipsius
solitudinis proveniat, sed a studio secedendi, ut altioribus
contemplationibus quis vacet : id quod in nonnullis ethni-
corum reperitur, sed affectatum et fictum ; ut in Epimenide
Cretense, Numa Romano, Empedocle Siculo, et Apollonio
Tyano; sincerum tamen et verum in plurimis eremitarum
antiquorum, et in sanctis patribus ecclesiz. Interea vero
parum perspiciunt homines, quid hoc sit quod solitudo
nomitatur, et quibus finibus circumscribitur: turba enim
non est societas dicenda; et facies hominum nihilo plus
sunt quam in porticibus picture; colloquia vero absque
dilectione cymbalo non prestant tinnienti. Hoc mnuit id,
quod Latino jactatum proverbio; “ Magna civitas, magna
solitudo.” In magnis enim urbibus amici et necessarii
remotius disperguntur, adeo ut minus plerunque familiariter,
et in consortio, vivatur, quam in viciniis angustioribus.
Quin et ulterius progredi licet, atque verissime asserere,
meram et miseram esse solitudinem, ubi desunt amici veri:
sine quibus mundus nihil aliud quam eremus est. Quo
etiam sensu si solitudinem accipias ; quicunque natura et
genio suo ab amicitiis abhorret, hujusmodo affectum, a
bruto potius, quam ab homine mutuatur.

Maximus amicite fructus est levamen et evaporatio
anxietatis et tumorum cordis, quos anime perturbationes,
cujuscunque generis, imprimere solent. Novimus morbos
illos in corpore esse maxime periculosos, qui ex obstruc-
tionibus et suffocationibus nascuntur: neque multo secus
se res habet in egritudinibus anime. Sarsam adhibere
possis ad jecoris, chalybem preparatum ad lienis, flores
sulphuris ad pulmonum, castoreum ad cerebri oppilationes
deobstruendas: nulla autem invenitur medicina apertiva
ad obstructiones cordis, preter amicum fidelem ; cui im-
pertire possis, dolores, gaudia, metus, spes, suspiciones,
curas, consilia, et quicquid denique cor opprimat, tanquam
sub sigillo confessionis civilis.

DE AMICITIA. 309

Res est profecto mirabilis, si quis secum reputet, quam
magni principes summi et monarche, istum amicitie fruc-
tum, (de quo loquimur,) estiment : tanti sane, ut eundem,
et incolumitatis sue, et amplitudinis, periculo, interdum
coemant. Principes enim, propter distantiam et sublimi-
tatem fortunarum suarum, a fortunis servorum et subdi-
torum suorum, fructum hunc decerpere nequeunt: nisi
forte, (quo eum melius colligant,) aliquos evehant et
promoveant, qui sint sibi tanquam socii et equales: id
quod sepenumero non sine prejudicio fit. Lingue mo-
derne, istiusmodi personas, nomine gratiosorum, vel
amicorum regis, insigniunt ; ac si res esset favoris et con-
Versationis: at vocabulum Romanum, ejus rei, rectius
exprimit, verum usum, atque causam; illos nominans,
“ Participes curarum ;” hoc enim illud est, quod verum
ligamen prestat. Atque hoc fecisse manifesto videmus,
non tantum principes delicatos, et imbecillis animi; sed
etiam prudentissimos, et maxime politicos, ex ils qui regna-
runt: qui sepe sibi adjunxerunt aliquos ex servis suis;
quos et ipsi amicos suos vocarunt; et aliis eodem illos
nomine insignire permiserunt: non alio utentes vocabulo,
quam quod inter homines private fortune receptum est.

L. Sylla, postquam Romanum imperium occupasset,
Pompeium, (postea cognominatum Magnum,) ad eam
potentiam evexit, ut Pompeius superiorem jam Sylla factum
se venditaret. Cum enim amicum quendam suum consulem
fecisset, contra ambitum Sylle; ‘atque Sylla in malam
partem hoc accepisset, et verba indignationis nonnulla
protulisset, Pompeius id minime tulit, sed fere disertis
verbis, eum quiescere jussit; addendo; “ Plures adorare
solem orientem, quam occidentem.” Apud Julium Cesarem,
Decimus Brutus, tanta gratia valuit, ut eum Cesar
Octavio, suo nepoti, heredem substitueri. Atque hic ille
fuit, qui Cesarem ad mortem suam pertraxit. Cum enim
Cesar senatum dimittere in animo habuisset, propter mala
quedam presagia, (precipue, somnium quoddam uxoris
sue Culpurnie,) Brutus eum mollitur e cathedra, arrepto
brachio ejus, levans, dixit ; “ Sperare se, eum senatum non
tam parvi habiturum, ut dimittere illum vellet, donec uxor
somnium melius somniasset.” Et videtur sane tanto
favore apud Cesarem polluisse, ut Antonius in epistola
quadam, que a Cicerone, in una ex Phillippicis, ver-
batim recitatur, eum veneficum appellaret; ac si Cesa-
rem incantasset. Augustus Agrippam, ignobilem licet
natalibus, ad tantam celsitudinem promovit, ut quando cum

310 DE AMICIATA.

Mecenate deliberaret de nuptiis filiee sue Julie ; Mecenas
eum libere monuisset ; “‘ Agrippam, aut in generum assu-
mendum, aut interficiendum ; nihil esse tertium; quando-

uidem eum ad tantum fastigium perduxisset.” Tiberius
Guise Sejanum tantis honoribus auxit, ut 11 duo haberentur
tanquam par amicorum: certe Tiberius, in epistola quadam
ad eum, ita scribit; “‘ Hec pro amicitia nostra non occul-
tavi.” Atque universus senatus, aram Amicitie tanquam
dew, dedicavit: propter arctam inter eos amicitiam. Similis,
aut etiam illa majoris, amicitie exemplum cernitur, inter
Septimium Severum, et Plantainum: etenim, filium suum
natu majorem, filiam Plantiani, in uxorem ducere, coegit:
ac Plantianum sepe, etiam cum contumelia filii sui, hono-
ravit. Quin et scripsit ad senatum hisce verbis: “ Ita
diligo virum, ut cupiam eum mihi superstitem fore.” Quod
si hi principes, Trajano alicui aut Marco Aurelio, similes
fuissent, immense nature eorum bonitati hoc attribui
posset: cum vero viri tam prudentes extiterint, tantoque
robore et severitate animi preediti, tamque impensi ama-
tores sui ; liquido probatur, eos felicitatem suam, (licet vix
major mortalibus ullis obtigisset) veluti mutilam duxisse,
nisi per hasce amicitias, facta fuisset integra, et perfecta.
Atque, quod majus est, affuerunt his principibus uxores.
Filii nepotes ; neque tamen hec omnia, amicitiz solatia,
panuisre valuerunt.

Minime oblivioni mandandum, quod Commineus notatum
reliquit de domino suo priore, duce Carolo, cognominato
Strenuo; eum secreta sua cum nemine communicare
voluisse: minime omnium ea, que eum pre ceteris ange-
bant. Et ulterius ait; eam animi obtectionem, posterioribus
vite annis, intellectum ipsius nonnihil debilitasse, et
vitiasse. Potuisset certe Commineus, si voluisset, simile
judicium facere, de domino suo posteriore, Ludovico un-
decimo; cui occultatio consiliorum pro tormento fuit. Tes-
sera Pythagore, obscura sed optima; “ Cor ne edito.”
Certe, si quis durum huic rei nomen imponeret, qui amicis
destiuuntur, quibus cogitationes suas, et anxietatis libere
impertiant, sunt cordium suorum anthropophagi. At illud
plane ad miraculum proxime accedit, (quocum claudam
hunc, de primo amicitie fructu, sermonem ;) nimirum ;
istam cum amicis communicationem, contrarios duos ef-
fectus producere; gaudia enim conduplicat, meerores
dimidiat. Nemo siquidem leta sua amico impertit, quin
letetur amplius: nemo autem tristibus amicum commu-
nicat, quin contristetur minus. Adeo ut revera, eadem

DE AMICITIA. ait

virtute polleat, super animum hominis ; quam alchymiste
lapidi suo tribuere solent, super corpus humanum ; hoc
est; quod contraria operetur, sed semper in beneficium
nature. Attamen absque auxilio notionum chymicarum,
extat hujus rei exemplum insigne, in cursu nature ordi-
nario. Nam in rebus naturalibus, unio alit et confortat
actiones quasque naturales; impressiones omnes violentas
hebetat et retundit: idemque prorsus fit in animis.

Secundus amicitie fructus, salubris est intellectui, sicuti
primus affectibus. Amicitia enim serenitatem inducit in
affectibus, a tempestatibus et procellis ; verum in intellectu
etiam noctem abigit, et lumen infundit, confusione cogita-
tionum dissipata. Neque hoc intelligendum est tantum,
de consilio fideli, quod ab amicis dari solet; sed antequam
de illo dicamus; certum est; quicunque animum cogita-
tionibus multis gravatum habet, ingenium ejus et intellec-
tum clarescere veluti in diem, communicatione consiliorum,
et discursu cum alio. Etenim cogitationes suas facilius
agitat, et in omnes partes versat; easdem ordinatius
disponit; illas tanquam in faciem intuetur, postquam
converse fuerint in verba; denique seipso prudentior
evadit: idque assequitur horule magis unius sermone,
quam diei integre meditationibus. Recte dictum est a
Themistocle, ad regem Persarum; “ Sermones tapetibus
similes esse, cum explicentur, per quod imagines distincte
conspiciuntur; ubi cogitationes, instar sarcinarum quarun-
dam, complicantur et involvuntur.” Neque etiam restrin-
gitur secundus iste fructus amicitie, (qui consistit in
obstructionibus intellectus aperiendis,) ad eos solum
amicos, qui consilio pollent ; (hi proculdubio optimi sunt ;)
sed et hoc seposito, discit profecto quispiam a seipso; et
proprias cogitationes in luminis oras educit; ingeniumque
suum tanquam cotem versus acuit, que ipsa non fecat.
Ut verbo dicamus ; prestat statue cuidam, vel imagini, se
impertire, quam cogitationes suas silentio suffocare.

Adde jam, (ut fiat sermo, de hoc secundo amicitie
fructu, magis perfectus,) illud modo dictum ; quod promp-
tius occurrit, et in vulgarem observationem cadit; fidele
intelligo ab amico consilium. Bene asserit Heraclitus, in
uno enigmatum suorum; “ Lumen siccum optimum :”
atqui certissimum est; lumen quod ab alio proficiscitur,
per modum coonsilii, illo siccius esse et purius, quod a
proprio emanat judicio, et intellectu; siquidem quod affec-
tibus semper maceratur et tingitur. Adeo ut, non minus
intersit, inter consilium amici, et consilium cujuslibet pro-

312 DE AMICITIA.

prium, quam inter consilia amici, et adulatoris. Neque
enim adulator magis infestus, quam quilibet sibi: neque
rursus remedium prestantius, contra adulationem sui
ipsius, reperitur, quam libertas amici. Consilium duorum
generum est. Alterum de moribus; alterum de negotiis.
Quantum ad prius. Optimum, ad animi sanitatem tuendam,
medicamentum, est admonitio amici fidelis. Seipsum ad
rationes stricte reddendas compellere, medicina est inter-
dum, nimis penetrans, et corrosiva. Lectio librorum
moralium, res est paulo hebetior. Observatio propriorum
defectuum in aliis, tanquam in speculo, aliquando, ut fit
etiam in speculis, minus respondet. Verum (ut diximus)
optima medicina, (optima ad recipiendum, optima ad
operandum ;) est admonitio amici. Mirum profecto est
videre, quot errores enormes, et plane absurdos, committant
-aliqui (preesertim ex grandioribus,) quia non adsit Hs
amicus, qui monere possit: in damnum haud parvum, et
existimationis, et fortune sue. Sunt enim, (ut ait apos-
tolus Jacobus,) “ tanquam homines, qui intuentur in
speculum, et statim obliviscuntur imaginis sue.” Quantum
ad negotia. Vetus est; “ Melius videre oculos, quam
oculum ;” licet nonnulli hoc cavillentur: etiam recte
dicitur; “‘ Spectatorem szepe plus videre, quam lusorem :”
quin et certius disploditur sclopetum majus, palo innixum,
quam super brachium; etsi A nas tam altum sapiant, ut
putent in sese esse omnia. Verum, quicquid dici possit in
contrarium, certum est, consilium negotia dirigere, et
stabilire. Quod si quis secum cogitet, consilium se quidem
capturum, sed per partes ; in aliis hunc, in altis illum, con-
sulendo; bene habet; (hoc est; melius ilh fuerit, quam
consilio omnino non uti;) verum, in duo pericula impingit :
unum, quod vix fidele consilium reperturus sit ; raro enim,
nisi a fideli, et intimo amico consilium datur, quod non ad
dantis fines inflexum et detortum sit. Alterum, quod consilia
illa, a diversis manantia, (licet cum fide, et bona inten-
tione prestita,) damnosa seepenumero erunt et nociva; ac
partim ex incommodis, partim ex remediis, commixta; veluti,
si medicum advoces, qui in curatione morbi illius peritus
habetur, sed corporis tui constitutionis penitus ignarus:
quare poterit, fortasse, valetudinem, ad tempus, promovere ;
sed cum periculo, ne, in summa, sanitati preejudicet :
atque hoc pacto morbum extinguet, et non ita multo post,
hominem. Verum amicus, cui status amici sui perfecte
cognitus est, cavebit, ne in presens juvando, in malum
futurum impingat. Itaque consillis istis dispersis, (ut jam

DE AMICITIA. alg

dictum,) nolim acquiescas: distrahent enim potius, et
seducent, quam dirigent et stabilient.

Post nobiles hosce duos amicitiz fructus; (pacem dico
in affectibus, et fulcimentum judicii ;) sequitur ultimus ; qui
similis est malo granato; plenus granis compluribus:
intelligo autem auxilium et participationem, in actionibus
et occasionibus vite. Hic autem, expeditissima via repre-
sentandi ad vivum, usum multiplicem amicitiz, fuerit,
circumspiciendo et videndo, quam multa sint, que per se
quispiam exequi commode non poterit: atque inde appa-
rebit, non per hyperbolen, sed sobrie dictum esse ab
antiquis; “ Amicum esse alterum se:” quandoquidem, si
quis vere rem reputet, amici officia, proprias cujusque vires
superent. Homines mortales sunt; quin et in medio
operum aliquorum, que maxime affectant, seepe moriuntur:
veluti in collocatione filii in matrimonium ; consummatione
conatuum et desideriorum suorum; et similibus. Jam si
quis amicum habeat fidelem, securitatem prestat, de iisdem
rebus, amici cura et opera, post mortem perficiendis: adeo
ut fatum immaturum vix obsit; atqne habeat quis, (ut
loguamur more tribulum aut firmariorum,) in desideriis
suis, terminum, non unius, sed duarum vitarum. Homo
corpore circumscribitur, et corpus loco ; verum ubi amicitia
presto est, vite munia omnia concessa sunt, et sibi, et
deputato suo. Quot numero res sunt, quas per se qnispiam,
cum dignitate aut decoro, peragere non possit? Merita sua
non potest cum verecundia recensere; multo minus extol-
lere: non sustinet quis, ut se submittat, ad supplicandum,
aut etiam emendicandum: infinita sunt talia. Verum
heec, et hujusmodi, in amici ore, sat decora sunt; ad que
erubescimus in persona propria. Rursns, persona cujusque,
multa habet conjuncta, que exuere non potest: filium
alloqui quis non poterit, nisi ut pater; uxorem, nisi ut
maritus; inimicum, nisi salva dignitate; ubi amico con-
ceditur loqui, prout res postulat; neque ad_ respectus
persone alligatur. Verum hec enumerare infinitum
fuerit. Ipse regulam dedi, ubi quis propriam personam,
in fabula, sustinere non poterit: amicus si desit, satius est
ei scenam derelinquere.

314

XXVIII. DE SUMPTIBUS.

Opes destinantur sumptibus: sumptus autem honori, et
actionibus honestis. Sumptus itaque largiores, occasionis
et rei dignitate commensurandi sunt: etenim spontanea
paupertas debetur quandoque patriz, non solum regno
ceelorum. Sumptus autem consueti cujusque censu defi-
niendi sunt; eoque tenore temperandi, ut intra reditus
sint; nec servorum fraudi, aut incuriz obnoxi; atque
insuper in eum modum dispositi et ordinati, ut rationes
impensarum exhibite, estimatione sint minores. Certe,
qui diminutionem fortunarum suarum pati nolit, necesse
habet impensas suas ordinarias ita instituere, ut dimidia
tantum pars redituum insumatur, altera reponatur: qui
vero rem augere cupit, tertiam partem solam impensis
assignet. Haud sordidum est summis etiam viris, si
rationes suas diligenter inspiciant. Hoc omittunt com-
plures, non tam socordia, quam aversatione quadam, ne se
contristent, si res nimio plus accisas deprehenderint.
Vulnera autem, nisi explorentur, sanari nequeunt. Qui
ceconomica sua commode tractare non possunt, lis relin-
quitur, ut quos adhibent ministros, et caute eligant, et
subinde mutent: novi enim minus audent, minusque astuti
sunt. Cui raro rationes suas inspicere datur, eum, que
computationi subjacent, in certos reditus atque etiam
sumptus, vertere convenit. Qui impendiosior est in uno
sumptus genere, eum sobrie parcum, et frugi oportet esse in
alio: exempli gratia; si victu abundantior, vestium elegantia
sit moderatior ; si in aula sua copiosior, in equili contractior
sit; et sic de similibus. Qui enim in singulis impensarum
generibus est profusior, decoctionem fortunarum egre
vitabit. In perplexa et oberata re familiari liberanda,
perinde sibi quis obesse poterit nimia festinatione, ac dila-
tione nimia: prepropre enim venditiones, jacturam ex
usuris, seepe exeequant. Porro autem, qui simul et semel
sortem asserit, de relapsu periclitatur : cum enim preeter-
vectum tantas angustias se sentiat, ad ingenium redibit:
qui autem se per gradus extricaverit, habitum frugalitatis
inducit; eademque opera tam animo, quam fortunis,
medetur. Sane qui res collapsas restituere in votis habet,
vel minima queque non spernat: atque plerunque minus
sordidum est, sumptus quamvis minutos precidere, quam

DE SUMPTIBUS. 315

-minutis lucris se submittere. Caute admodum inchoandi
sunt sumptus, qui semel inchoati permansuri sint. Sed in
sumptibus, qui non facile redeunt, splendidiorem et magni-
ficentiorum esse licebet.

XXIX. DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERII.

Dicrum Themistoclis, sibi ipsi applicatum, incivile certe
fuit, et inflatum; sin de aliis, atque in genere, prolatum
fuisset, prudentem sane observationem, et pergravem
censuram complecti videtur. Rogatus in convivio, ut
cytharam pulsaret, respondit; “ Fidibus se nescire; ce-
terum posse oppidum parvum in magnam civitatem eve-
here.” Ista certe verba, ad sensum politicum translata,
facultates duas, multum inter se discrepantes, in lis qui
rerum gubernacula tractant, optime describunt, et distin-
guunt. Etenim, si regnum consiliarios, senatores, aliosque
ad negotia publica admotos, qui usquam fuerunt, attente
intueamur ; reperientur profecto (licet rarissime,) nonnulli,
qui regnum aut civitatem, e parvis ampla efficere possint,
fidicines tamen sint valde imperiti: econtra autem, alii
quamplurimi, in cythara, aut lyra, (hoc est aulicis tricis,)
miri artifices, qui, tantum abest, ut rempublicam amplifi-
care possint, ut potius a natura comparati videantur, ad
statum reipublice beatum et florentum, labefactandum, et
evertendum. Sane, artes ille degeneres, et prestigie,
quibus seepenumero consiliarii, atque rerum potentes, et
ae apud principes suos, et famam in vulgus, reportant,

aud aliud nomen merentur, quam peritie cujusdam
fidiculariz ; utpote, cum sint res, magis grate in preesens,
et artificibus ipsis ornamento, quam ad rerumpublicarum,
quarum sunt ministri, opes et amplitudinem, utiles, aut
accommode. Occurrent proculdubio et alii consiliarii,
atque reipublice gubernatores, minime spernendi, qui sint
negotiis pares, possintque res commode administrare,
easque a manifestis precipitiis, et incommodis conservare ;
a virtute tamen illa rerumpublicarum erectrice et amplifi-
catrice, longo intervallo absunt.

Verum qualescunque demum fuerint operarii, conjicia-
mus oculos in opus ipsum; qualis nimirum censeri debeat
vera regnorum et rerumpublicarum magnitudo, et quibus
artibus obtineri possit: dignum profecto argumentum,
quod principes perpetuo in manibus habeant, et diligenter

316 DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERIE.

meditentur ; quo nec vires suas in majus estimantes,
incceptis, se vanis et nimis arduis implicent; nec rursus
easdem plus equo despicientes, ad consilia pusillanima et
meticulosa, se demittant.

Magnitudo imperiorum, quoad molem et territorium,
mensure subjicitur; quoad reditus, calculis. Numerus
civium, et capita, censu; urbium et oppidorum amplitudo,
tabulis excipi possint. Attamen non reperitur inter civilia,
res errori magis obnoxia, quam verum et intrinsecum
excipere valorem, circa vires et copias imperii alicujus.
Assimilatur regnum ceelorum non glandi, aut nuci alicui
grandiori, sed grano sinapis, quod inter grana est mini-
mum; quod tamen habeat interim, intra se, proprietatem
quandam, et spiritum innatum, quo se et citius attollat, et
latius diffundat: eodem modo, invenire est regna et status,
ambitu quidem et regionum tractu, valde ampla; que
tamen ad fines ulterius proferendos, aut latius imperandum,
sunt minus apta; alia contra, dimensione satis exigua, que
tamen bases, in quibus maxime monarchie inedificentur
esse possint.

Urbes munite, plena armamentaria, equorum propagines
generose, currus armati, elephanti, machine atque tor-
menta bellica omnigena, et similia; sunt certe ista universa
nihil aliud, quam ovis induta pelle leonina ; nisi gens ipsa,
stirpe sua, et ingenio, sit fortis, et militaris. Imo, nec
numerus ipse copiarum multum juvat, ubi milites imbelles
sunt, et ignavi. Recte enim Virgilius; “ Lupus numerum
pecorum non curat.” Exercitus Persarum, in campis
Arbele, oculis Macedonum, tanquam vastum hominum
pelagus, subjiciebatur; adeo ut duces Alexandri, nonnihil
ipso spectaculo perculsi, regem interpellarent, atque ut
noctu prelium committeret, ei auctores erant: quibus ille ;
“ Nolo (inquit) suffurari victoriam.” Ea autem etiam
opinione fuit facilior, Tigranes Armenius, castrametatus
in quodam colle, cum exercitu quadringentorum millium,
cum spectaret aciem Romanorum, que quatuordecim millia
non excessit, contra se tendentem, in scommate illo suo sibi |
complacuit; “ Ecce, (inquit,) hominum, pro legatione,
nimio plus quam oportet, pro pugna, longe minus.” Eosdem
tamen, priusquam occubuisset sol, satis multos, ad illum
infinita strage profligandum, expertus est. Innumera sunt
exempla, quam sit multitudinis cum fortitudine, congressus
impar. Primo igitur, pro re certissima et exploratissima
decernatur, et statuatur; quod caput omnium, que ad
magnitudinem regni aut status spectent, sit, ut populus

DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERII. 317

ipse sit stirpe et ingenio bellicosus. Atque illud magis
tritum, quam verum, quod nervi belli sint pecunie; si
desint nervi lacertorum in gente molli et effceminata.
Recte enim Creso ostentanti aurum respondit Solon ;
“ At si quis, (o rex) venerit, qui melius quam tu ferrum
gestet, illi profecto totum hoc cedet aurum.” Quare,
quicunque is tandem sit princeps aut status, cujus subditi
nativi et indigene, non sint animosi et militares, potentiam
suam admodum sobrie estimet: atque econtra, principes,
qui dominantur in gentes animosas et martias, norint illi
satis vires suas, si sibi alias non desint. Quod attinet ad
copias mercenarias, (quod solet adhiberi remedium, cum
copie native desint,) plena sunt omnia exemplis ; ‘quibus
liquido patet, quod quicunque status illis innitetur, poterit
fortasse pennas ad tempus breve, nido majores extendere,
sed defluent ille paulo post. /

Benedictio Jude, et Issacharis, in unum nunquam con-
venient; nimirum, ut eadem tribus aut gens, sit simul, et
“leonis catulus, et asinus procumbens inter sarcinas.”
Neque unquam fiet, ut populus tributis oppressus, fortis
existat, et bellicosus. Verum est, collationes publico
consensu factas, minus animos subditorum dejicere, et de-
primere, quam que ex imperio mero indicuntur. Id quod
liquido videre est, in tributis Germanie inferioris, quas
Excisas vocant ; atque, aliqua ex parte, in iis, que Subsidia
nominantur apud Anglos. Etenim notandum est, sermonem
jam institui, de animis hominum, non de opibus. Tributa
autem, que ex consensu conferuntur, et que ex imperio
imponuntur, etsi eadem res sint, quoad opes exhauriendas,
varie tamen omnino animos subditorum afficiunt. Statuatur
igitur et hoc, populum tributis gravatum, idoneum ad im-
perandum, non esse.

Aspirantibus ad magnitudinem regnis et statibus, prorsus
cavendum, ne nobiles et patricii, atque (quos vocamus)
generosi, majorem in modum multiplicentur. Hoe enim
eo rem deducit, ut plebs regni sit humilis et abjecta; et
nihil aliud fere quam nobilium mancipia et operarii. Simile
quiddam fieri videmus in silvis ceduis ; in quibus, si major,
quam par est, caudicum, sive arborum majorum relinquatur
numerus, non renascetur silva sincera et pura; sed major
pars in vepres et dumos degenerabit: eodem modo, in
nationibus, ubi numerosior justo est nobilitas, erit plebs
vilis et ignava; atque eo demum res redibit, ut nec cente-
simum quodque caput, sit, ad galeam portandam, idoneum :
presertim si peditatum spectes; qui exercitus plerunque

318 DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERII.

est robur precipuum; unde succedet magna populatio,
vires exigue. Nusquam gentium, hoc quod dico, luculen-
tius comprobatum est, quam exemplis Anglie et Gallie ;
quarum Auglia, quamvis territorio, et numero incolarum,
longe inferior, potiores tamen partes fere semper in bellis
obtinuit; hanc ipsam ob causam, quod apud Anglos
coloni, et inferioris ordinis homines, militiz habiles sint,
rustici Galliz non item. Qua in re, mirabili quadam et
profunda prudentia excogitatum est, ab Henrico septimo
Anglie rege (id quod in Vite ejus historia fusius
tractavimus,) ut preedia minora, atque domus agricolationis,
instituerentur, que habeant certum, eumque mediocrem
agri modum annexum, qui distrahi non possit: eo fine, ut
ad victum liberaliorem sufficiat; utque agricultura ab iis
exerceretur, qui domini fuerint fundi, aut saltem usufruc-
tuaril, non conductitil, aut mercenarii. Nam ita demum
characterem illum, quo antiquam Italiam insignivit virgi-
lius, merebitur regio aliqua ;

— Terra potens armis, atque ubere glebe.

Neque preetereunda est illa pars populi, (que Anglie
fere est peculiaris, nec alibi (quod scio) in usu, nisi forte
apud polonos,) famuli scilicet nobilium : hujus enim generis
etiam inferiores, quoad peditatum, agricolis ipsis minime
cedunt. Quare certissimum est, quod magnificentia, et
splendor ille hospitalis, atque, famulitia, et veluti satellitia
ampla, que in more sunt apud nobiles, et generosos, in
anglia, ad potentiam militarem apprime conducant; ubi
contra, nobilium obscura, et magis privata, et in se reducta
vitee ratio, copias militares minuit.

Danda est omnino opera, ut arbor ista monarchie, qualis
fuit Nebuchadnezzaris, truncum habeat satis amplum, et
robustum, ad ramos suos et frondes sustentandos: hoc est,
ut numerus indigenarum, ad subditos extraneos cohibendos,
satis superque sufficiat. Ih igitur status, ad imperil mag-
titudinem bene comparati sunt, qui jus civitatis facile et
libenter largiuntur. Vana siquidem fuerit opinio, posse
manipulum hominum, utcunque animis et consilio ex-
cellant, regiones nimio plus amplas et spatiosas, imperil
jugo cohibere et froenare. Id ad tempas fortasse facere
possint, sed diuturnitatem hec res non assequitur. Spartani
parci fuerunt et difficiles in cooptandis novis civibus. Unde
donec intra parvos limites dominati sunt, res eorum firme
fuerunt, et stabiles; at postquam limites suos ccepissent
proferre, et latius dominari, quam ut stirps Spartanorum,

DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERII. 319

turbam exterorum, imperio commode coercere posset, po-
tentia eorum corruit. Nulla unquam respublica sinus
suos, ad novos cives recipiendos, tam profuse laxavit, quam
respublica Romana. Itaque par erat, instituto tam pru-
denti, fortuna; cum in imperium toto orbe amplissimum
succreverint. Moris apud eos erat, jus civitatis prompte
elargiri; idque in supremo gradu: hoc est, non solum jus
commercii, jus connubii, jus hereditatis; verumetiam jus
suffragii, et jus petitionis sive honorum: hocque rursus,
non singulis tantum personis, sed totis familiis, imo civita-
tibus, et nonnunquam integris nationibus communicarunt.
Huc adde consuetudinem deducendi colonias, quibus
Romane stirpes in solum exterum transplantabantur.
Que duo instituta, si simul componas, dices profecto, non
Romanos se diffudisse super universum orbem ; sed contra,
orbem universum se diffudisse super Romanos: qu secu-
rissima proferendi imperii est ratio. Subit mirari sepius
imperium Hispanorum, quod tam paucis indigenis, tot
regna et provincias amplexari et froenare possit. At certe,
Hispaniz ipse, pro arboris stemmate satis grandi haberi
debent; cum longe ampliorem contineant regionum trac-
tum, quam Rome aut Spartz, sub initiis suis, contigerat.
Porro, quanquam jus Civitatis, satis parce soleant Hispani
impertire, quod proximum tamen est, faciunt; quippe, qui
cujuscunque nationis homines, ad militiam suam ordina-
rlam, promiscue admittant. Quinetiam, summum belli
imperium, haud raro, ad duces, natione non Hispanos,
deferunt. Attamen, et illam ipsam, videntur, non ita
pridem, indigenarum paucitatem sensisse, eique succurrere
cuplisse ; ut ex pragmatica sanctione, hoc anno promulgata,
cernere est.

Certissimum est, artes mechanicas sedentarias, que
non sub dio, sed sub tecto exercentur ; atque manufacturas
delicatas, que digitum potius quam brachium requirunt :
sua natura, militaribus animis esse contrarias. [n uni-
versum, populi bellicosi feriari gaudent, et pericula quam
labores minus exhorrent, Atque in hoc ingenio suo, non
sunt admodum reprimendi, si animos ipsorum in vigore
conservare, cordi nobis sit. Magno itaque adjumento,
Sparte, Athenis, Rome, aliisque, antiquis rebuspublicis
fuit, quod habuerint non ingenuos, sed servos plerunque,
quorum laboribus istiusmodi opificia expediebantur. Verum
mancipiorum usus, post legem Christianam receptam,
maxima ex parte, abiit in desuetudinem. Huic vero rei
proximum est, ut artes iste alienigenis tantum permit-

320 DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERII.

tantur; qui propterea alliciendi, aut saltem facile recipiendi
sunt. Nativorum autem plebs ex tribus generibus homi-
num constare debet; nempe ‘ex agricolis; famulis inge-
nuis; et artificibus, quorum opera robur et lacertos viriles _
postulant : cujusmodi sunt fabri ferrari, lapidaru, lignarii,
et similes; non annumerando militiam descriptam.

Ante omnia, ad imperii magnitudinem confert, ut gens
aliqua armorum studium profiteatur, tanquam decus suum,
et institutum vite primarium, et in precipuo honore |
habitum. Que enim a nobis adhuc dicta sunt, ad habili-
tates tantum erga arma spectant ; quorsum autem habilitas,
Si non rei ipsi incumbitur, ut producatur in actum?
Romulus (ut narrant, aut fingunt,) postquam e vivis ex-
cesserat, illud civibus suis legavit, ut ante omnia rem
militarem colerent, unde in caput orbis terrarum urbs
eorum insurgeret: imperii Spartani fabrica universa, (nén
nimis prudenter quidem, sed diligenter tamen,) ad illum
finem et scopum, composita est et constructa, ut cives sui
belligeratores essent. Persarum, et Macedonum, idem
erat institutum, sed non tam constans aut diuturnum,
Britanni, Galli, Germani, Gothi, Saxones, Normanni, et
nonnulli alii, etiam ad tempus armis se precipue dedi-
derunt. Turce idem institutum, lege sua paululum exti-
mulati, hodie retinent, sed magna cum militie sue, (ut
nunc est,) declinatione. In Europa Christiana, gens que
illud adhuc retinet et profitetur, soli sunt Hispam. Verum
res est, tam liquida, et manifesta, unumquemque in eo
proficere maxime, in quo plurimum impendit studi, ut
verbis non indigeat. Satis fit imnuisse, desperandum
omnino alicui nationi esse, que non ex professo arma et
militiam colat, iisque precipue studeat et incumbat, sibi
veluti ultro obventuram, insignem aliquam imperii magni-
tudinem: contra autem, certissimum esse temporis oracu-
lum, nationes illas, que in armorum professione et studiis
diutius permanserint; (id quod Romani, Turceque, potis-
simum fecere;) miros in imperio amplificando facere
progressus. Quin et illew, que bellica gloria, per unius
tantummodo secuti spatium floruere; inde tamen, unico
illo seculo, eam imperii amplitudinem assecutz sunt, quam
longo post tempore, etiam remissa illa armorum disciplina,
retinuerunt.

Precepto precedenti affine est; ut status quis utatur
ejusmodi legibus, et consuetudinibus, que justas illi
causas, aut saltem pretextus, arma capescendi, tanquam
in promptu ministrent. Etenim, ea est insita animis homi-

DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERII. 321

num justitie apprehensio, ut bellum, (quod tot sequuntur
calamitates,) nisi gravem ob causam, saltem speciosam,
inferre abstineant. Turcis presto est semper, et ad nutum,
belli causa; propagatio scilicet legis et sectee sue. Ro-.
mani, quanquam pro magno decore imperatoribus apud eos
fuerit, si fines imperii ipsorum protulissent, tamen ob hanc
causam, ut fines proferentur, nunquam bella susceperunt.
Aspiranti igitur ad imperium nationi, illud in more sit; ut
sensum habeat vividum et acrem, injuriz alicujus; vel
subditis suis limitaneis, vel mercatoribus, vel publicis mi-
nistris, illatee ; neque a prima provocatione diutius torpeat,
aut tardet. Item, prompta sit, et alacris, ad auxilia mit-
tenda sociis suis, et foederatis: id quod perpetuum erat
apud Romanos: adeo ut, si forte in populum feederatum,
cui etiam cum aliis foedus defensivum intercederet, hostilis
impressio facta esset; atque ille a plurimis suppetias pete-
ret; Romani omnium primi semper adessent, beneficii
decus, nemini preripiendum relinquentes. Quod vero
attinet ad bella, antiquis temporibus, propter statuum con-
formitatem quandam, aut correspondentiam tacitam, gesta,
non video in quo jure illa fundata sint. Talia fuerunt
bella, que a Romanis, suscepta erant, ad Greciam in
libertatem vindicandam; talia a Lacedemoniis et Athe-
niensibus, ad constituendas, aut evertendas democratias, et
oligarchias: talia quandoque illata sunt, a rebuspublicis
aut principibus, sub preetextu, subditos alienos protegendi,
et a tyrannide liberandi. Ad rem presentem sufficiat, ut
illud decernatur; non esse expectandam, statui alicui, im-
perii amplitudinem, nisi ad quamvis occasionem justam se
armandi, protinus expergiscatur.

Nullum omnino corpus, sive sit illud naturale, sive poli-
ticum, absque exercitatione, sanitatem suam tueri queat.
Regno autem, aut reipublice justum, atque honorificum
bellum loco salubris exercitationis est. Bellum civile pro-
fecto instar caloris febrilis est; at bellum externum instar
caloris ex motu, qui valetudini imprimis conducit. Ex
pace enim deside atque torpente, et emolliuntur animi, et
corumpuntur mores. Sed utcunque res se habeat, qua-
tenus ad alicujus status felicitatem, magnitudinis procul-
dubio interest, ut quasi semper in armis sit. Atque exer-
citus veteranus, perpetuo tanquam sub vexillis habitus, et
si res sit, magni proculdubio sumptus et impense ; attamen
ejusmodi est, ut statui alicui, quasi arbitrium rerum inter
vicinos, aut saltem plurimum existimationis ad omnia, con-
ferat Id quod insigniter cernere est in Hispanis, qui jam

VoL. Xv. Y

322 DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERIT.

per annos centum et viginti, exercitum veteranum, ad ali-
quas partes, licet non semper ad easdem, aluerunt.

Maris dominium, monarchie quedam epitome est. Ci-
cero, de Pompeii contra Cesarem apparatu, scribens ad
Atticum: “ Consilium (inquit) Pompeii, plane Themisto-
cleum est ; putat enim, qui mari potitur, eum rerum potiri.”
Atque Cesarem Pompeius, proculdubio delassasset, et
attrivisset, nisi inani fiducia inflatus, ab illo incepto desti-
tisset. Prelia navalia, quanti fuerint momenti, ex multis
exemplis patet. Pugna ad actium, orbis imperium deter-
minavit. Pugna ad insulas cursolares, circulum in naribus
Turce posuit. Multoties certe evenit, ut victorie navales,
finem summe belli attulerint; sed hoc factum est, cum
aleee hujusmodi preliorum, totius belli fortuna commissa
est. Illud minime dubium, quod qui maris potitur do-
minio, in magna libertate agit, et tantum, quantum velit,
de bello sumere potest: ubi contra, qui terrestribus copiis
est superior, nihilominus plurimis angustiis conflictatur.
At hodie, atque apud nos Europeos, si unquam, aut uspiam,
potentia navalis, (que quidem huic regno Britanniz in
dotem cessit,) summi, ad rerum fastigia, momenti est ; tum
quia pleraque Europe regna mediterranea simpliciter non
sunt, sed maxima ex parte mari cincta; tum etiam, quia
utriusque Indie thesauri et opes, imperio maris, veluti
accessorium quiddam, existunt.

Bella moderna, veluti in tenebris gesta, censeri possunt,
pre gloria et decore vario, que in homines militares, priscis
temporibus, a rebus bellicis, resilire solebant. Habemus
hodie, fortasse ad animos faciendos, ordines quosdam ho-
norificos militie; qui tamen jam facti sunt armis et toge
communes: etiam in scutis gentilitiis, stemmata nonnulla
habemus: insuper, hospitia quedam publica, militibus
emeritis et mutilatis destinata, et hujusmodi. Verum,
apud veteres, in locis, ubi victorie parte sunt, extructa
trophea; laudationes funebres; monumenta magnifica oc-
cumbentium in bello; corone civice; militares, singulis
concesse ; nomen ipsum imperatoris, quod postea reges
maximi a belli ducibus mutuati sunt; redeuntium ducum,
bellis prospere confectis, celebres triumphi; donativa atque
largitiones ingentes in milites, sub exercituum dimissionem :
hec (inquam) tot et tanta fuerunt, et tam insigni splendore
coruscantia, ut pectoribus mortalium, etiam maxime con-
glaciatis, igniculos subdere, eaque ad bellum inflamare
potuerint. Ante omnia vero, mos ille triumphandi, apud
Romanos, non res erat ex pompa, aut spectaculum quod-

DE PROFERENDIS FINIBUS IMPERII. 323

dam inane, sed inter prudentissima plane nobilissimaque
instituta, numerandus: utpote, qui in se hec tria haberet ;
ducum decus et gloriam; aerarli ex spoliis locupletatio-
nem; et donativa militum. Verum honor triumphi, for-
tasse monarchiis non competit, preeterquam in personis
regum ipsorum, aut filiorum regum; quod etiam, tempori-
bus imperatorum, Rome obtinuit: qui honorem ipsum
triumphi, sibi et filiis suis, de bellis, que preesentes ipsi
confecerant, tanquam peculiarem reservarunt: vestimenta
autem solummodo, et insignia triumphalia, aliis ducibus
indulserunt.

Verum, ut sermones hes claudamus; nemo est, (ut tes-
tatur sacra Scriptura, “‘ qui sollicite cogitando, potest appo-
nere ad staturam suam, cubitum unum ;” in pusillo scilicet
corporis humani modulo: czterum in magna regnorum et
rerumpublicarum fabrica, imperium amplificare, et fines

roferre, reges penes et dominantes est. Nam prudenter
introducendo leges, instituta, et consuetudines, quales jam
proposuimus, et alias his similes, posteris, et seculis futuris,
magnitudinis sementem fecerunt. Verum ista consilia apud
principes raro tractantur, sed res fortune plerunque com-
mittitur.

XXX. DE REGIMINE VALETUDINIS.

In regimine valetudinis, invenire est quandam prudentiam,
ultra regulas medicine : observatio cujusque propria, eorum
que nocent, eorum on juvant, optima est medicina ad
sanitatem tuendam. Verum tutius est concludere: “ Hoc
sensi mihi nocuisse, ergo eo non utar;” quam isto modo:
“Hoc quod sensi, minime offendit, ergo eo uti licet.”
Etenim vigor juventutis, excessus plurimos tegit, ee tamen
in senectute tandem velut debita exigentur. Considera
aetatem ingruentem, neque confide eadem perpetuo con-
tinuare: non enim bellum indicendum senectuti. Cave a
subita aliqua mutatione, in regiminis parte quapiam prin-
cipali; quod si necessitas urgeat, cetera ad eam mutatio-
hem accommoda. Secretum enim est, et naturale, et polli-
ticum ; “ Tutius est, multa mutare quam unum magnum.”
Examini tamen subjicias consuetudines tuas ; diet, somni,
exercitationis, vestium, mansionis, et similium: et, si quid
nocumento esse judices, experire illud paulatim exuere ;
ita tamen, ut si ex mutatione nocumenti aliquid perceperis,
ad consueta redeas: difficile enim distinguere inter ea,

324 DE REGIMINE VALETUDINIs.

que toto genere sunt salubria, et ea quee corporis tui unici
constitutioni conveniunt. Vacuo animo esse, et hilari, ad
horas cibi, somni, et exercitationis, est ex optimis pre-
ceptis, ad prolongandam vitam, Quatenus ad animi pas-
siones, et studia; devita invidiam; metus anxios; iram
intus cohibitam ; subtiles et nodosas disquisitiones ; gaudia,
et exhilarationes immodicas; tristitiam alte pressam; et
non communicatam. Amplectere spes; ltitiam potius
quam gaudium; delectationum varietatem magis quam
satietatem; admirationem, et propterea novitates; studia
que animum replent splendidis et illustribus objectis; ve-
luti, historias, fabulas, peragrationes nature. Medicatio-
hem si omnino fugias, valetudine utens bona, corpori in-
gratior accedet, cum necessitas ingruerit. Eidem si nimium
assuescas, detrahet de viribus et efficacia ejus, quando
morbus advenerit. Probo potius dietas quasdam, ad certa
tempora, quam usum medicamentorum frequentem; nisi
jampridem transierit in consuetudinem. Dietz enim hu-
jusmodi, alterant corpus magis, perturbant minus. Ne
contemnas accidens aliquod in corpore tuo novum et insue-
tum, sed consilium medicorum circa illud adhibe. Dum
egrotas, valetudinem tuam cura maxime; dum vales, cor-
pore tuo utere, nec sis nimis delicatus: qui enim, dum
valet, corpori tolerantiam imperat; in morbis compluribus,
qui scilicet non sunt acuti; dizta sola, et corporis regimine
paulo exquisitiore, curari possit absque multa medicatione.
Celsus monitum illud suum, nunquam parturiisset ut me-
dicus, nisi una fuisset vir prudens. In preceptis dat, tan-
quam arcanum tuende valetudinis, et prolongande vite ;
ut quis contraria alternet, et subinde mutet, sed cum incli-
natione in extremum benignius. Nempe, victu utere par-
ciore, et pleniore, sed pleniore sepius; vigiliis, et somno
largiori insuescas, sed somno magis: quietem, et motum
sive exercitium repetas, sed frequentius motum ; et similia,
Ita enim natura simul et fovebitur, et robur acquiret. Ex
medicis aliqui, erga egrum, et ejus desideria, tam sunt
indulgentes, ut morbi curam legitimam non urgeant; alii
contra, tam regulares et rigidi, in procedendo secundum,
artem, circa curam morbi, ut zgri conditionem et naturam,
non satis respiciant: medicum elige temperature medie :
vel si hoc ad votum, in uno aliquo medico, non cesserit,
adhibe ex utroque genere unum: atque memor sis advo-
care medicum, corporis tui gnarum, non minus quam in
arte sua spectatum.

XXXI. DE SUSPICIONE.

SusPicioNEs inter cogitationes, sunt ut inter aves vesper-
tiliones: nunquam volitant, nisi luce crepera. Reprimen-
de certe sunt, aut saltem caute custodiende: mentem
enim obnubilant ; amicos alienant; et negotia interpellant ;
ita ut nec alacriter, nec constanter, peragi possint. Reges
inclinant ad tyrannidem; maritos ad zelotypiam; etiam
prudentes ad animi vacillationem, et melancholiam. Sunt
autem suspiciones, defectus, non tam cordis, quam cerebri:
locum enim reperiunt, etiam in fortissimis animis: exem-
plo esse poterit Henricus Septimus, rex Angliz: quo non
fuit alter suspicacior, nectamen animosior. In ejusmodi
vero temperatura, minus nocent: plerunque enim non
admittuntur, nisi prius discutiantur, utrum probabiles sint,
annon? Utrum in meticulosis ingeniis, nimio plus pre-
valent. Nihil certe eque facit hominem multa suspicari, .
ac parum scire. Itaque rectissime adhibetur remedium,
ad suspiciones, ut quis inquisitionem urgeat. Fumo enim
et tenebris aluntur suspiciones. Quid sibi tandem volunt
homines? Existimantne cunctos, quorum opera utuntur,
et quibuscum versantur, angelos esse, aut sanctos? Nes-
ciuntne illos, ad suos proprios fines, aspirare; et unum-
quemque proximiorem esse sibi, quam alteri? Nullus
itaque est modus, moderandis suspicionibus aptior, quam
remedia parare, ac si suspiciones essent vere, iis vero
froena injicere, ac si essent false. Eatenus enim suspi-
ciones usui esse poterint, ut ita nos comparemus, quod
quamvis verum foret, quod suspicamur, nocere tamem non
possit. Suspiciones, quas ex se mens colligit, sunt nisi
inanes bombi: que vero externo artificio aluntur, ani-
misque; hominum instillantur, susurronum et famigera-
torum sermonibus, aculeos habent. Optima certe ratio,
expediendi nos, ex impedita hac suspicionum sylva, est
libera queedam et aperta illarum declaratio, apud eos, quos
suspectos habemus: hinc enim fieri non potest, quin pie
cognoscamus, utrum vere sint, necne, quam antea. Hoc
simul reddet eum, quem suspectum habemus, cautum
magis et circumspectum, ne novam prebeat suspicionis
ansam. Sed hoc fieri non oportet, cum hominibus prave
indolis, et degeneris: hi enim, ubi semel se suspectos sen-
tiant, fideles postmodum nunquam evadent. Diverbium
habetur apud Italos, “ Sospetto licentia fede.” Quasi
suspicio fidei missionem daret: cum potius fidem accen-
dere deberet, ut seipsam liberaret.

326

XXXII. DE DISCURSU SERMONUM.

SuNT qui in sermonibus, affectant potius ingenii laudem,
qua in quamcunque partem disputare possint, quam ju-
dicii, in veritate enucleanda: ac si laudabile esset, inve-
nire quid dici possit, non quid teneri debeat. Sunt qui in
promptu habent, locos aliquos communes, et themata, in
quibus luxuriantur, cetera steriles et jejuni ; quod penuric
genus plerunque tedio afficit, et quamprimum notam su-
bierit, in ridiculum evadit. Pars sermonis honoratior,
hec est; ansam sermonis prebere; et rursus eidem mode-
rari, ac ad alia transire; tunc enim quis choream ducit.
Bonum sane, in conversatione et colloquiis familiaribus,
subinde variare; et sermones circa res presentes cum
disputationibus ; narrationes cum argumentis; queestiones
cum positivis; jocosa cum seriis, immiscere: satietatem
siquidem et fastidium parit, in aliquo subjecto diutius
herere. Quantum ad jocos; sunt quedam, que a joco,
veluti privilegio, eximi debent; religio, negotia reipub-
licee, personee sublimes, privatorum negotia majoris mo-
menti, denique casus omnis miserabilis. Nonnullos tamen
reperies, quibus ingenia sua obdormiscere videbuntur,
nisi acutum aliquem et mordacem sarcasmum in quempiam
contorserint. Ille habitus omnino coercendus : 4

Parce puer stimulis, et fortius utere loris.

In summa, discrimen servandum, inter salsa, et amara.
Certe, qui satyricam amplectitur venam, sicut aliis metum
injicit ab ingenio suo, ita ab aliorum memoria metuere
debet. Qui interrogat multum, et addiscet multa, et pla-
cebit in multis; preesertim si questiones suas, ad captum
et peritiam respondentis, adaptet ; siquidem occasionem
ei prebebit scientiam suam ostentandi ; i autem novis
continuo scientize augmentis dotabitur. oleste autem
ne sint questiones; id examinatori convenit. Etiam qs
sermonis familiaris- dignitatem tueri cupit, aliis vices lo-
quendi relinquat. Quin et, si qui adsint, qui dominari in
sermonibus, et tempus universum occupare studeant, illos
arte quadam abrumpere sciat, et alios ad loquendum indu-
cere; sicut tibicines moderari solent saltantibus. Scien-
tiam si quandoque dissimules, eorum que scire existi-
maris, putaberis alias ea scire, que nescis. Sermo alicujus
de seipso, rarus esse debet, et cum judicio. Novi quen-

DE DISCURSU SERMONUM. 327

dam, cui sepe in ore erat, per ironiam: “ Oportet hunc
egregie sapientem esse, ita multa de seipso liquitur.” Vix
occurrit casus aliquis, in quo se laudare quis decore possit,
preter unum: is est, si virtutem alterius laudet; sed eam
intelligo virtutem, ad quam ipse aspirat. Sermo alios
soba, oie et vellicans, parce utendus: etenim sermones
amiliares debent esse instar campi aperti, in quo spatiari
licet; non vie regie, que deducit domum. Noveram
nobiles duos, ad partem Anglie occidentalem; quorum
alter scommatibus nimio plus indulgebat, sed hospitalis
admodum erat. Alter autem querere solebat, a convivis
illus prioris: “ Dic sodes ; annon scomma aliquod inter-
cesserat, in quempiam jactum?” Cui conviva forte:
“ Tale aliquid contigit.” At ille, utpote alterius Aimulus :
“Satis sciebam, eum prandium bonum malis condimentis
corrupturum.” Sermo cum discretione prestat eloquen-
tie; et apte loqui, et accommodate, ad personam cum
qua colloguimur, efficacius est, quam ornamenta verborum,
aut methodi, captare. Continuata oratio bona, absque
interlocutione bona, tarditatem monstrat: at replicatio,

et interlocutio bona, absque facultate orationem conti-

nuandi, penuriam, et scientiam minime fundatam, prodit:
quemadmodum in animalibus videmus, que cursu minus
valent, flexu maxime agilia esse: ut fit inter leporarium,
et leporem. Circumstantiis nimio pluribus, orationem
vestire, antequam rem ipsam attingas, tedium parit;
iisdem penitus carere, abruptum quiddam est, et ingratum.

XXXIII. DE PLANTATIONIBUS POPULORUM, ET
COLONIIS.

CoLoniz eminent inter antiqua et heroica opera. Mun-
dus, cum adhuc juvenis esset, plures progenuit liberos;
nunc senex factus, pauciores. Etenim, non immerito colo-
nias novas, tanquam liberos nationum antiquiorum, duxe-
rim. Plantationem populorum probo in solo puro: intel-
ligo, ubi populus non destruitur, ut populus inseratur:
hoc enim cum fit, extirpatio prorsus est, non plantatio.
Plantatio regionum non absimilis est plantationi sylvarum :
in quibus de utilitate capienda mihil cogitandum ante
annum vicesimum: verum fructus uber et locuples, in fine
operis, expectandus. [llud certe, quod precipue colonias,
alias bene successuras, evertit, fuit, sordida illa et avida
lucri captatio, sub initiis coloniarum. Verum est, lucri.

328 DE PLANTATIONIBUS POPULORUM,

segetem acceleratam, non negligendam, modo cum bono
colonize conjuncta sit, sed non ultra. Indignum quiddam
et infaustum est, cum fex populi, exules, et damnati, in
colonize seminarium sumuntur. Quin et coloniam ipsam
corrumpit et perdit. Hujusmodi enim homines profligati
instar erronum degent; nec operi accingent, sed otio se
dedent ; quin et scelera perpetrabunt, fruges consument,
et coloniz fastidio afficientur : ac tum demum, nuncios et
literas in patriam mittent, in plantationis preejudicium et
dedecus. Populus, qui in coloniam sumatur, precipue
sint artifices generum sequentium: hortulani, aratores,
fossores, fabri ferrarii, fabri lignarii, piscatores, aucupes,
chirurgi, pharmacopole, coci, pistores, cervisiaril, et hujus-
modi. In regione, ubi plantare instituis, circumspice pri-
mo, quod genus esculentorum et poculentorum, terra ex
sese, Sine cultura, edat: veluti castaneas, juglandes, nuces
pinus, olivas, dactylos, pruna, cerasa, mel silvestre, et
similia ; atque illis, ut par est, utere. Dein disquire, quod
genus victualiorum, solum proferre possit celeriter, intra
annum: veluti pastinacas, caricas, brassicas, cepas, ra-
phanos, melones, pepones, cucumeres, artiplices de Hie-
rusalem, maiz, et alia. Quantum ad triticum, siliquam,
hordeum, et avenam, nimiam grana hec poscunt cultu-
ram: attamen a fabis et pisis etiam inchoare licet: tum
quia minore opera indigent; tum quia non minus cibi
loco, quam panis, inserviunt. Etiam ab oriza multiplex
provenit seges ; que et cibi quoque copiam facit. Ante
omnia, magna copia transportanda, panis biscocti, farine
ex avena, pollinis, farine omnigene, et similium, ut sub
initiis preesto sint, donec panis confici possit. . Pecudes,
et aves, delige eas, que a morbis precipue immunes sunt,
et pre ceteris prolifice : quales sunt porci, capre, galine,
galine Indice, anseres, columbe domestice, cuniculi, et
similes. Preecipio autem piscationibus incumbendum, tum
ad sustentationem colonize, tum ad lucrum exportationis.
Commeatus in coloniis adeo parca manu fere distribuen-
dus, ac si in oppidis obsessis esset; hoc est, pro rata.
Maxima autem pars soli, quod in hortos aut segetes con-
vertitur, horreis publicis assignetur; in quibus fruges
reponantur, et mensura certa distribuantur: ita tamen ut
supersint nonnulle fundi portiones, in quibus industria
singulorum se exerceat. Circumspice insuper, quas merces
nativas regio illa producat, ut exportatio earum, in loca
ubi maxime in pretio sunt, sumptus levet; ut usuvenit
in nicotiano apud Virginiam; modo non sit, (ut jam dic-

av

ET COLONIIS. 329

tum,) in prejudicium intempestivum coloniz ipsius. Syl-
ve in regionibus desertis, ut plurimum, abundant ; itaque
ligna, ad eedificia, naves, aut ejusmodi usus apta, inter
precipuas merces numeranda. Si imveniatur vena ferri,
et rivuli ad molendina ferraria idonei, ferrum e mercibus

Uestuosis est, in regionibus sylvosis. Salis nigri con-
tbétio per calorem solis, si clima ferat, digna res est que
tentetur. Etiam sericum vegetabile, si adsit, merx est
lucrosa. Pix cujuscunque generis, ubi proveniunt pinus
et abietes, semper presto est. Quin et pharmaca, et ligna
odorata, si reperiantur, haud parvum commodum prebent.
Etiam cineres, quibus ad sapam utuntur, non modicum
utilitatis afferent: similiter et alia que perquiri possunt.
Verum fodinis ne confidas nimium, presertim a principio.
Fodine enim fallaces sunt, et sumptuose; et spe pulchra
lactantes, colonos reddunt circa alia socordes. Regimen
colonize committatur uni, cui tamen assideant consiliarii
aliquot; atque muniantur auctoritate, ad exemplum juris
militaris, sed aliquantulum restricta. Ante omnia, hunc
sibi decerpant homines fructum, vivendo in eremo; ut
Deum semper, ejusque cultum, pre oculis habeant. Rur-
sus, colonia, a numerosiore concilio, (intelligo in regione,
matre colonize, residente,) non pendeat; nec ob contri-
butiones exiguas multitudini nimie subjiciatur; sed sit
numerus eorum, qui negotia colonize procurant et ordinant,
moderatus: sintque potius ex nobilibus, et generosis, quam
mercatoribus ; hi enim lucro presenti plus satis inhiant.
Sit plane immunitas a vectigalibus et portoriis, donec
colonia adoleverit : neque tantum immunitas a solutionibus
pecuniarum concedatur, sed etiam libertas merces in quas-
cunque velint partes exportandi; nisi gravis aliqua causa
obfuerit. Coloniam populo ne farcias aut superoneres,
alios post alios mittendo: sed potius information diligenti
intende, quot capita de tempore in tempus minuantur ;
eaque numero conveniente, pro rata, suppleas; ita tamen,
ut coloni bene victitent, nec penuria affligantur. Magnum
jampridem salubritati complurium coloniarum detrimentum
intulit, edificatio juxta mare et fluvios, in locis paludinosis
et aquosis. Itaque, etsi ab hujusmodi locis incipiendum,
propter vecture et aliarum rerum commoditatem, paulatim
tamen in superiores regionis partes, et ab aquis remotiores,
ascendendum. Interest etiam sanitatis colonize, ut salis
sat bona copia convehatur; quo cibi, quos verisimile est
putridos aliter sepe futuros, condiantur. Si coloniam
plantes, ubi barbari sedes suas habeant, neutiquam eos

330 DE PLANTATIONIBUS POPULORUM, ETC.

nugis tantum, et tricis, concilies ; sed justitia, et modis
gratiosis, demerere; nihil tamen de presidiis minuendo;
que ad securitatem pertinent: neque etiam benevolentiam
eorum aucupare, auxiliis contra hostes suos; sed auxiliis
defensivis non incommodum erit subvenire. Interest
etiam, aliquos ex indigenis, sepe in regionem, unde colonia
migravit, mittere ; ubi videant conditiones hominum suis
multo prestantiores; idque sub reditu, inter suos divul-
gent. ostquam colonia adoleverit, et robur acceperit,
tempestivum erit mulieres summittere ; ut colonia ex sese
propagetur, nec semper ab externis pendeat. Super omnia
flagitiosissimum est, coloniam semel deductam, deserere et
destituere ; preeterquam enim quod de decori est, nil aliud
est, aa proditio mera, profusioque sanguinis, complu-
rium hominum miserorum.

XXXIV. DE DIVITIIS.
DivitiAs cognomine magis proprio vocare nequeam,
quam ut eas appellem impedimenta virtutis. Sicut enim
se habent impedimenta ad exercitum, ita divitie ad vir-
tutem: necessarie siquidem sunt, sed graves: quinetiam
cura illarum victoriam sepe disturbat. Divitiarum mags
narum nullus est usus, preterquam in iis expendendis:
cetera in opinione versantur. Idem dictat Solomon:
“Ubi multe sunt opes, multi qui comedunt eas; et,
“ quid prodest possessori, nisi quod cernat divitias oculis
suis?” Possessio divitiarum, nulla voluptate dominum
perfundit, quantum ad sensum: est sane custodia ipsa-
rum; est etiam potestas donativi aut distributionis ; est
et fama, et inflatio ab ipsis; sed non datur solidus ipsa-
rum usus, qui ad dominum pertingat. Annon vides ficta
illa pretia, quibus gemme, et hujusmodi rariora, esti-
mantur; et quam inania opera suscipiantur, ad ostenta-
tionem meram, ut usus aliquis divitiarum magnarum
videri possit? Sed dicet quispiam, usum earum vel in hoc,
maxime cerni posse; quod dominos ex periculis et cala-
mitatibus redimant: ut ait Solomon: ‘ Substantia divitis
urbs roboris ejus, et quasi murus elevatus in imaginatione
sua:” sed caute Solomon, quod imaginatione, non reipsa,
tales sunt. Plures enim, sine controversia, divitiis suis
magnis venerunt, quam redempti sunt. Divitias magnas
ne secteris ; sed quas parare possis juste, impendere sobrie, —
erogare hilariter, et libenter dimittere. Neque tamen con-

DE DIVITIIS. 331

temptum ipsarum, instar monachi alicujus, aut a seculo
abstracti, foveas; sed de usu distingue; sicut Cicero
optime de Rabirio Posthumo; “In studio rei amplifi-
cande, apparebat, non avaritiz predam, sed instrumentum
bonitati queri.” Ausculta etiam Solomoni, nec prepo-
pere opum accumulationi inhia: “ Qui festinat ad divi-
tias, non erit insons.” Fingunt poete, Plutum, (qui divi-
tias sonat,) a Jove missum, claudicare, et tardigradum
esse: a Plutone autem, currere, et pedibus celerem. In-
nuentes, divitias, bonis artibus, et justo labore, partas,
tarde accedere ; sed per mortem aliorem advenientes (veluti
ex hereditatibus, testamentis, aut similibus,) precipitanter
ruere. Nec minus poterit fabula ea de Plutone intelligi,
si Plutonem pro diabolo accipias. Cum enim opes a
diabolo fluunt, (veluti, per fraudes, oppressiones, injusti-
ciam, et scelera,) rapido cursu feruntur.

Vie ad ditescendum varie, et plereque earum fede.
Parsimonia inter optimas censeri possit, neque tamen ipsa
omnino innocens est: opera enim liberalitatis et charitatis
coarctat. Soli cultura, quasi ad divitias maxime genuina ;
utpote que benedictio magne matris Telluris sit; verum
lenta est hec via. Attamen ubi homines insigniter opu-
lenti, se ad agriculturam, et lucra rustica, submittunt,
divitias in immensum coacervant. Noveram ex proceribus
Angliz quendam, cui maximi reditus proveniebant, e re
rustica, supra subditos ceteros quoscunque etatis mez.
Dives erat armentis ; ovibus; sylvis, tam ceduis, quam
grandioribus ; lithanthracibus ; tentD: plumbi et ferri-
fodinis; et compluribus aliis proventibus rusticis. Adeo
ut terra ei instar maris erat, merces perpetuo importans.
Recte a quodam observatum; se magno cum labore ad
exiguas, et nullo fere ad magnas divitias, pervenisse.
Postquam enim res alicujus nummaria, sic increverit, ut
nundinarum et mercatuum opportunitates prestolari possit;
atque eos contractus superare, quibus ob summe magni-
tudinem, perpauci admodum homines apti sunt; atque
etiam in laboribus aliorum participare, qui minus pecunia
abundant ; fieri non potest, quin supra modum ditescat.
Lucra ex professionibus, honesta certe sunt; et duabus
rebus promoventur maxime; diligentia, et fama bona
propter probitatem in negotiando. At lucra ex contrac-
tibus majoribus, plerunque nature magis ancipitis ; cum
quis scilicet aliorum necessitates et angustias obsideat ;
servos et ministros alienos in damnum dominorum cor-
rumpat ; emptores alios, qui in majora forte pretia con-

332 DE DIVITIIS.

sensissent, artificiose et vafre summoveat; et hujusmodi
fraudes exerceat; que omnes merito damnande sunt.
Quantum vero ad emptiones, animo, non retinendi, sed
rursus divendendi, ille ex utraque fere parte molunt; tam
venditorem, quam emptorem prementes. Societates locu-
pletant affatim ; si cautus adhibeatur delectus eorum, qui-
buscum societas initur. Foenus ex certissimis lucri gene-
ribus est, licet ex pravissimis: utpote quod hominem
panem suum comedere faciat, in sudore vultus alieni;
atque in sabbatho operari non cessat. Attamen certum
licet sit, non caret rimis suis secretis: siquidem notarii, et
institores, ad commodum proprium, homines fortunarum
debiarum, quandoque extollent. Primum esse in inven-
tione aliqua nova, aut privilegio, inundationem quandam
opum interdum largitur: sicut contigit primo sacchari
excoctori in Canariis: itaque si quis se peritum dialecti-
cum prestare possit, us addat inventioni judicium, magna
haud dubie efficiet; preesertim si tempora sint propitia.
Qui lucra tantummodo certa captat, egre ad magnas divi-
tias assurget: contra, qui totus in incertis est, vix fortuna-
rum dispendia vitabit: bonum igitur fuerit incerta lucra
certis munire, ut damnis subveniatur. Monopolia, et
mercium coemptiones ad revenditionem, ubi lege nulla
prohibentur, ad divitias viam sternunt facilem ; preesertim
Si quis prospicere possit, que merces in estimationem
venture sint, atque eo modo se illis abunde instruat.
Opum acquisitio, per servitium regum, aut magnatum,
dignitatem quandam habet; tamen si assentationibus, et
servilibus artificiis, sese ad omnes nutus flectendo, paren-
tur, inter vias vilissimas poterit numerari. Quantum ad
venationem testamentorum, et legatorum, (quemadmodum
Tacitus Senecam insimulat: ‘“Testamenta et orbos tan-
quam indagine capi;”) adhuc pejor est hec res: quanto
cum hominibus conditionis humilioris, rem habemus, quam
in servitio.

Fidem illis nimiam ne adhibeas, qui pre se ferunt con-
temptum divitiarum: etenim opes Bescic qui despe-
rant; neque invenies usquam tenaciores, ubi incipient
ditescere. Ne sis in minutis tenax; divitize alas habent,
et aliquando ex sese avolant, aliquando emittende sunt,
ut ampliores congregent. Opes suas moribundi relinquunt,
aut usui publico; aut liberis, cognatis, et amicis; in
utroque genere, legationes paulo moderatiores melius ce-
dunt. Divitie magne heredi relicte, aves rapaces un-
dique ad eas convolare invitant; nisi heres fuerit etate et

DE DIVITIIS. 333

judicio confirmatior. Similiter fundationes gloriose et
splendide, in usus publicos, sunt instar sacrificlorum sine
sale; et nihil aliud quam, dealbata eleemosynarum sepul-
chra; que ab intus cito corrumpentur et putrefient. Itaque
dona tua, magnitudine ne metiaris, sed commoditate; et ad
debitam mensuram redigas: neque opera charitatis in mor-
tem usque differas: etenim, si quis recte rem estimet, qui
id facit, ex alieno potius donat, quam e proprio.

XXXV. DE AMBITIONE.

AmpaiTio choleram refert: quod genus humoris, activos,
vehementes, alacres, et promptos reddit; nisi obstruc-
tionem patiatur. Quod si obstructione concludatur, adeo

ut libere permeare non possit, fit adusta, et inde maligna

et venenosa: similiter ambitiosi, si in ambitu et petitione
sua, repulsas non patiantur, sed semper sint in progressu,
polypragmones potius sunt quam periculosi: sin in cupidi-
tatibus freenentur, et subinde frustrentur, malevolentiam et
invidiam in corde fovent; et iniquo prorsus oculo, tum res,
tum homines intuentur; ac tum demum in sinu letantur
cum res male cedant: qui quidem animi affectus, cum
servis regum, aut rerumpublicarum pessime congruit.
Bonum itaque principibus fuerit, (si ambitiosis utantur,)
ita rem disponere, ut perpetuo directi, nunquam retrogradi
sint. Quod quia sine prejudicio fieri non potest, melius
esset, ab hujusmodi ingenii hominibus omnino abstinere.
Ktenim, si ipsi cum servitio suo non assurgant, operam
dabunt ut servitium suum cum ipsis corruat. Verum, quia
modo diximus ambitiosos non adhibendos, nisi urgente
necessitate, operee pretium fuerit jam dicere, quibus in
casibus, necessarius sit eorum usus.

Imperatores et duces in bello boni, utcunque ambitiosi
sint, omnino recipiendi: etenim utilitas ipsorum, ut preefi-
ciantur, cetera compensat: militem autem deligere, qui
ambitione vacet, perinde est, ac si calcaribus eum spolies.
Quin et alter usus ambitiosorum est, ut umbellee loco prin-
cipibus sint, contra invidiam et periculum: nemo enim eas
partes subibit, nisi sit instar columbe occecate, que ideo
in sursum volat, quia circumspicere non potest. Est etiam
alius usus ambitiosorum non parvus, ut pregrandibus alas
amputent, et eorum potentiam labefactent ; quemadmodum
Macronem Tiberius adhibuit, ad dejiciendum Sejanum.

Quandoquidem igitur, in casibus memoratis, necessarii

334 DE AMBITIONE.

sint, superest ut ostendamus, qua ratione sint froenandi et
coercendi, ut minus ab illis impendeat periculi. Perniciosi
minus sunt, si natalibus ignobiles, quam si nobiles: si
ingenio paulo truciores et asperiores, quam si gratiosi et
populares: denique si nuper honoribus admoti, quam si
veteratores facti sint, et in honoribus suis muniti. Signum
infirmi animi in principibus, a plerisque ducitur, si grati-
osos et intimos sibi adjungant: attamen, si verum dicen-
dum est, non aliud reperitur remedium prestantius, contra
potentiam nimiam procerum, aut magistratuum. Siquidem,
quando juvandi et nocendi potestas, penes gratiosum resi-
det, vix fiet, ut alius aliquis ex proceribus, magnopere
potentia turgeat. Alia ratio ambitiosos coercendi non mala
est, si per alios eque ambitiosos, et protervos, librentur :
sed tum opus est consiliariis aliquibus moderatioribus, qui
partes medias teneant, ne factiones omnia pessundent:
etenim absque illa saburra navis vacillabit nimis. Saltem
allicere poterint principes, et animare aliquos humilioris
conditionis, qui ambitiosorum veluti flagella sint. Quan-
tum ad ingenerandam illam in ambitiosis opinionem, ut se
ruine proximos putent, atque eo modo contineantur ; si
meticulost fuerint, bene forsitan cedet; sin animosi et
audaces, preecipitabit conatus et machinationes eorum ;
neque est sine periculo. Quod si necessitas flagitet, ut
revera rejiciantur, neque id simul, et subito, facere, tutum
foret; optimum erit, favoribus et repulsis, eos, alternis,
excipere ; unde attoniti et confusi hereant, nescientes quid
expectent, et veluti intra sylvam ambulent.

x ambitionibus, minus est nociva, cupiditas preevalendi
in rebus majoribus, quam se immiscendi rebus omnibus :
istud enim confusionem consiliorum parit, et negotia
destruit. Etiam minus periculi incumbit, ab ambitioso in
negotiis acri, quam ab eo qui gratia et clientelis pollet.
Qui inter strenuos, et negotiis pares, eminere studet,
magnam profecto suscipit provinciam ; verum hoc publico
utile est: qui vero illud machinatur, ut viros cordatos
deprimat, et ipse solus inter ciphras numerus sit, seculi
alicujus lues est et calamitas. Honor tribus insignitur
commodis; potestate bene-merendi; aditu facili ad viros
principes ; et fortunarum proprarium in melius evectione:
qui optimam, ex his tribus, fovet intentionem, cum aspirat,
vir probus est: princeps quoque, qui hujusmodi in servis
suis intentiones, dignoscere valeat et distinguere, princeps
est prudens. Verum in genere, preoptandi sunt princi-

ee re

DE AMBITIONE. 339

pibus hujusmodi servi, qui officio magis ducantur, quam
ambitione: quique negotia amplectantur et ament, potius
ex conscientia bona, quam ex ostentatione: denique dis-
tinguant principes cum judicio, inter ingenia, que sese
omnibus negotiis ingerunt, et animum promptum seu
alacrem.

XXXVI. DE NATURA, ET INDOLE NATURALI
IN HOMINIBUS.

Natura occultatur sepenumero, interdum vincitur, raro
extinguitur. Vis naturam efficit magis impetuosam cum
recurrit; doctrina et precepta affectus naturales reddunt
minus quidem importunos, sed non tollunt ; verum consue-
tudo sola ea est, que naturam plane immutat et subigit.
Qui victoriam de natura sua reportare cupit, sibi nec nimis
magna, nec parva nimis pensa, constituat: priora enim
animum dejicient, propter frustrationes crebras ; posteriora
non multum attollent, etiamsi sepius prevaleat. Atque
sub initiis exerceat se adminiculis quibusdam ; ut natatores
recentes, vescicis aut juncis ; deinde cum impedimentis, ut
saltatores solent, calceis gravioribus. Etenim, perfectionem
in re qualibet inducit, si exercitatio difficilior sit, quam
usus. Obi natura admodum potens est, et proinde victoria
difficilis, opus erit per gradus quosdam procedere, qui tales
sint; primo, naturam sistere ad tempus aliquod; more
illus, qui cum irasceretur, literas alphabeti, priusquam
quicquam faceret, recitare solebat: secundo, naturam mo-
derari, et ad minores portiones deducere ; ut si quis, absti-
nentiam a vino exercens, a majoribus haustibus ad minores
deveniat: postremo autem, naturam penitus sub jugum
mittere et domare. Verum si quis eo animi robore et con-
stantia polleat, ut se subito eximere et vindicare poterit,
hoc optimum fuerit :

Optimus ille animi vindex, ledentia pectus
Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel.

Neque antiqua regula rejicienda; ut naturam, adinstar
bacilli, in contrariam partem flectas; quo recta tandem
deveniat. Verum intellige hoc, ubi extremum illud alterum,
ip vitium non ducat. Insuper et hoc advertas, ne habitum
superinducere contendas, nixu continuo, sed intermisso ;
ham intermissio impetum redintegrat, et adauget; et si

336 DE NATURA, ETC. IN HOMINIBUS.

quis, dum tyronem agit, perpetuo se exerceat, eveniet, ut
errores, non minus quam facultatem imbibat. Neque huic
malo succurritur, nisi per tempestivas intermissiones. Pree-
terea, victoriz in naturam, non nimium cito, triumphum
accinas ; natura enim, ad longum tempus, sepulta jacebit,
et tamen occasione data reviviscet : id quod contigit puellee
apud Aisopum, ex fele in mulierem converse ; que civiliter
admodum in mensa sedebat, donec mus in conspectu ejus
forte curreret. Itaque occasiones tales, aut omnino evites,
aut isdem frequentius imsuescas, quo minus moveant.
Indoles cujusque naturalis optime deprehenditur, in con-
suetudine familiari ; in hac enim nulla intervenit affectatio:
in perturbationibus ; siquidem ille preecepta et regulas
penitus excutiunt: denique, in casu aliquo novo et insolito;
quia tum a consuetudine deseritur. Felices dixerim, quo-
rum indoles naturalis, cum vite sue genere congruit: alias
vere dicere possint; “ Multum incola fuit anima mea.” In
studiis, quicquid a natura tua alienum repereris, stata tem-
pora tibi preefigos ad ejusdem exercitationes et medita-
tiones ; sin autem cum genio tuo convenerit, de statis horis
ne sis solicitus ; cogitationes enim tue sponte illuc convo-
labunt, prout negotia et studia cetera permittent. Natura
cujusque, ex vi innata, aut bonas, aut malas herbas, pro-
ducit: itaque sedulo et tempestive illas irriget, has evellat.

XXXVII. DE CONSUETUDINE ET EDUCATIONE.,

CociTaTIONEs hominum sequuntur plerunque inclina-
tiones suas ; sermones autem, doctrinas, et opiniones quas
imbiberunt; at facta eorum ferme antiquum obtinent.
Itaque, ut bene notat Macciavellus, (licet in exemplo sce-
lerato,) minime fidendum est, aut nature violentie, aut
verborum grandiloquentiz, nisi corroborentur consuetudine.
Instantia ejus hee est: in facinore aliquo audaci et crudeli
patrando, non acquiescendum esse, aut in nature alicujus
ferocia, aut in promissis constantibus, nedum juramentis ;
sed committendum scelus esse viris sanguinolentis, et jam-
dudum ceedibus assuetis. Sed Macciavello, de fratre quo-
piam Clemente, aut Ravillaco, aut Jauregua, aut Baltazare
Gerardo, aut Guidone Faulxio, nihil innotuit. Verum
tenet regula ejus; naturam, aut promissorum fidem et fero-
ciam, viribus consuetudinis haud equipollere. Solum-
modo, superstitio; nostris temporibus, eo provecta est; ut
prime classis sicarii, laniis obfirmatis minime cedant ;

DE CONSUETUDINE ET EDUCATIONE. 337

atque decreta votiva, etiam in re sanguinaria, consuetu-
dinis vires exeequent. In aliis quibuscunque, consuetu-
dinis potentia clare elucescit: adeo ut miraculi instar sit,
audire, quot professiones, protestationes, promissa, verba
grandia, jactitent plurimi; et tamen, istis omnibus post-
habitis, pro more consueto agere: acsi imagines essent, et
machine plane inanimes, solis consuetudinis rotis impulse
et acte. Videre etiam licet consuetudinis tyrannidem, in
aliis multis. Indi, (loquor de gymnosophistis, et veteribus,
et modernis,) se leniter super pyram componunt, atque hoc
modo seipsos igne sacrificant. Quin et foemine cum
maritis in rogum immitti properant. Pueri Spartani, anti-
quis temporibus, flagris ceedi sustinebant, super aram
Diane, vix ejulatu, aut gemitu ullo emisso. Memini sub
initiis regine Elizabethe, rebellem quendam Hibernum,
supplicationem deputato obtulisse, ut torque lignea, non
fune, suspenderetur ; quia illud magis in more rebellibus
erat. Inveniuntur monachi in Russia, qui ad peeniten-
tiam complendam, tota nocte hyemali, in vase aqua repleto,
non recusabunt sedere, donec glacie constringantur. Plu-
rima denique exempla adduci poterint, plane stupendas
consuetudinis vires, tam super animum, quam super cor-
pus, prodentia. Quandoquidem igitur mos, veluti summus
sit humane vite moderator et magistratus, cure sit im-
primis, ut mores bonos asciscamus. Certe consuetudo
validissima, cum a pueritia incipit: hanc educationem
appellamus ; que nihil aliud est, quam a teneris annis
imbibita consuetudo. Ita videre est, in linguis ediscendis,
linguam ipsam magis commode se applicare omnibus ex-
pressionibus et sonis; artus quoque magis agiles et flexiles,
ad omnes posituras et motus esse; in pueritia, aut adoles-
centia, quam postea. Verissimum enim est, opsimathes
istos novam plicam non bene admittere: nisi fuerit in non-
nullis hominibus, quibus animi nondum fixi, sed eosdem
apertos ad omnia preecepta conservarunt, quo continuo
emendationem reciperent ; id quod rarissimum est.

Verum si consuetudinis vires, cum simplex solummodo
sit, et sejuncta, tante sint; multo magis consuetudo copu-
lata, et conjuncta, et in collegium coacta, excellit. Isthic
enim exemplum docet, relevat societas, emulatio stimulat,
gloria animos extollit: ita ut in hujusmodi locis, vires et
influxus consuetudinis tanquam in exaltatione sint. Certe,
multiplicatio, et (ut chymicorum vocabulo utar,) projectio,
super naturam humanam, consistit in societatibus bene
institutis, et disciplina salubri informatis. Etenim respub-

VOL, XV. Zz

398 DE CONSUETUDINE ET EDUCATIONE.

lice recte administrate, quin et leges bone, alunt virtutem
in herba, sed semina ipsius non multum promovent. Verum
infelicitatis orbis hoc habet, ut media maximarum virium,
applicentur quandoque finibus, minime expetendis.

XXXVIII. DE FORTUNA.

NeEGARI non potest, quin accidentia et casus externi, ad
hominum fortunas, vel promovendas, vel deprimendas, plu-
rimum possint. Gratia alicujus ex magnitibus, oppor-
tunitas, aliorum obitus, occasio virtuti cujusque congrua.
Veruntamen, fortunam suam fingere cuique precipue, in
manu propria est. “ Faber quisque fortune sue ;” inquit
comicus. Atque inter externas causas illa frequentissima:
Stultitiam unius, alterius fortunam promovere. Nemo
enim ita subito evehitur, ac occasione errorum alterius.
Ut inquit adagium; “ Serpens, nisi serpentem comederit,
non fit draco.”

Virtutes aperte et conspicue laudes pariunt; at insunt
virtutes quedam occulte et latentes, que pariunt fortunam.
Nimirum, facultates nonnulle se expediendi, que nomen
non habent. Hispanum vocabulum, (desemboltura,) eas
quadam ex parte innuit. Scilicet; cum non inveniuntur
in natura alicujus obices aut impedimenta: sed rote animi
ad motum rotarum fortune versatiles sunt. Ita enim
Livius, (postquam Catonem majorem his verbis descrip-
sisset ; “ In illo viro, tantum robur corporis et animi fuit,
ut quocunque loco natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus
videretur,”) illud diserte notat, quod ei fuisset ingenium
versatile. Quare si quis limis et adductis oculis aspiciat,
videbit Fortunam: ceca enim licet sit, haud tamen prorsus
invisibilis. Etenim via fortune similis est galaxie in
ethere ; que concursus est, sive coacervatio complurium
stellarum minutarum, seorsim invisibilium, sed conjunctim
luminosarum. Eodem modo, complures virtutes sunt
exiguee, et vix in notam incurrentes; sive potius facultates
et consuetudines apposite ; que fortunatas reddunt. Itali
ex ipsis nonnullas notant; quales quis minime putaret.
Cum hominem innuunt, cui prosperam fortunam spondent,
inter ceeteras ejus qualitates adjicient, quod habeat poco di
matto. Neque sane inveniuntur aliz due qualitates, magis
ad hance propitie; quam si quis habeat modicum ex stulto,
et non nimium ex honesto. Itaque, quibus patria, aut
principes sui, nimio plus chari extiterunt ; iidem nunquam

DE FORTUNA. 339

fortunati fuerunt; neque profecto esse possunt. Quando
enim cogitationes suas, extra se ipsum quis collocaverit,
viam suam bene inire nequit.

Fortuna prepropera, magna molientes, et nonnihil tur-
bulentos, reddit; at fortuna exercita ea est, que efficit
prudentes et cordatos. Fortuna proculdubio, saltem propter
filias suas, honorem meretur; confidentiam scilicet, et exis-
timationem ; etenim has duas parit fortuna prospera ; alte-
ram intra nos ipsos; alteram in aliis oe nos; eeque
vicissim pariunt animos et auctoritatem. Viri cuncti pru-
dentes, quo invidiam suarum virtutum amoliantur, omnia
providentie et fortune imputare solent: ita enim decentius
et liberius, eas sibi assumere possint: quinetiam majes-
tatem homini quandam addit, si videretur Numini cure
esse. Sic Caesar dum animaret gubernatorem navis in
tempestate, dixit; “ Cesarem portas, et fortunam ejus.”
Sic Sylla nomen Felicis elegit, non Magni. Atque illud
observationem non preteriit ; eos, qui ex professo, sapientiz
et artibus propriis, nimium tribuerunt, in fine, infortunatos
evasisse.

Narratur de Timotheo Atheniensi, postquam in reddendis
rationibus preefecture sue, hanc clausulam, ad ravim usque,
inseruissit ; “ Atque in hoc nulle erant fortune partes ;”
deinceps illi nihil cessisse prospere. Sunt certe, quorum
fortuna similis carminibus Homeri, que majore cum faci-
litate fluunt, quam aliorum poétarum versus: id quod
Plutarchus de fortuna Timoleontis, ad fortunas Agesilai,
aut Epaminonde, comparata, predicat. Hoc vero ut fiat,
sine dubio, in nobis ipsis, maxime situm est,

XXXIX. DE USURA SIVE FCENORE.

PLuRIM1 invectivas quasdam ingeniosas, in foeneratores,
commenti sunt. Dicunt; miserum esse, diabolum in Dei
partem involasse, decimus scilicet. Foeneratorem maxi-
mum esse sabbathi violatorem; aratrum siquidem suum
non cessare sabbathis. Foeneratorem fucum esse, de quo
Virgilius ;

Ignavum fucos pecus a prasepibus arcent.

Feeneratorem, legem primitivam, post lapsum hominis,
latam, pessundare; que fuit; “In sudore vultus tui co-
medes panem tuum;”’ minime vero; in sudore vultus alieni.
Foeneratores pileis luteis indui oportere, qui judaizant.

340 DE USURA SIVE FQNORE.

Rem esse contra naturam, ut pecunia generaret pecuniam ;
et hujusmodi alia. | Ego vero hoc dico tantum; “ Foenus
esse, inter concessa, propter duritiem cordis. Cum enim
necesse sit hominibus, ut pecunias mutuo dent, et accipi-
ant; sintque tam duro corde, ut eas gratis commodare
nolint, reliquum est ut permittantur usure. Alii nonnulli
in medium adduxerunt, callidas quasdam et suspectas pro-
positiones, de argentariis, et excambiis publicis, detectione
fortunarum hominum singulorum, et aliis hujusmodi arti-
ficiis. Verum pauci de foenore disseruerunt solide et utiliter.
Optimum fuerit proponere nobis ante oculos, fcenoris com-
moda, et incommoda; ut bonum vel ponderetur, vel sepa-
retur; quinetiam cavere imprimis, ne dum foenore feramur
in melius, intercipiamur et incidamus in pejus.

Incommoda fcenoris hee sunt. Primum, quod mercato-
rum numerum minuit. Nam si ignava hec, pecunie in
foenus erogatio, e medio tolleretur, nummi non delitescerent
pre socordia, sed, magna ex parte, in mercaturam impen-
derentur; que instar vene porte, cuivis regno est, ad opes
introducendas. Secundum, quod mercatores inopes reddit:
sicut enim colonus, terram colere ita fructuose nequit, si
reditum solvat nimis gravem; ita mercator, tam commode
et lucrose, mercaturam suam exercere vix potest, si pecuniis
foenore sumptis, negotietur. Tertium incommodum duorum
priorum appendix quedam est, portoriorum et vectigalium
publicorum imminutio, que fluunt et refluunt, pro modo
commercii. Quartum, quod thesaurum, et pecunias regni ;
sive reipublice in paucorum manus reducit: cum enim
foeneratoris lucrum certum sit, ceeterorum incertum, eveniet
in fine ludi, prout fit seepe in alea, ut maxima pars pecuniz
promo cedat. Illud autem pro inconcusso tenendum, florere
rempublicam imprimis, cum pecunie dispergantur, non
coacerventur. Quintum, quod terre et preediorum pretium
deprimit : etenim pecunie insumuntur, vel in mercaturam,
vel in preediorum coémptiones ; foenus autem utrique obvi-
are videtur. Sextum, quod omnes labores, molimina, et
inventa nova quecunque, enervat et hebetat; in quibus
pecunia minime sibi deesset, nisi a torpedine ista impedi-
retur. Postremum, quod tinea est et teredo facultatum
quam plurimorum hominum; id quod, tractu temporis,
egestatem publicam parit.

E contrario, commoda fcenoris hee sunt. Primo, quod
utcunque usure in aliquibus mercature noceant, in aliis
nihilominus prosunt: certissimum enim est, maximam
mercaturee partem, a junioribus mercatoribus exerceri,

DE USURA SIVE FGNORE. 341

foenore sumptis pecuniis; unde si fcenerator, pecunias -
suas, vel exigat, vel non emittat, secutura necessario est
magna mercature clades. Secundum est, quod nisi
prompta hee a foeneratoribus pecuniarum mutuatio, homi-
num necessitatibus subveniret, in extremas angustias cito
redigerentur ; quandoquidem cogerentur res suas, (sive
bona mobilia fuerint, sive preedia,) nimis vili pretio ven-
dere: itaque, ubi foenus rodit tantum, distractiones pre-
propere penitus absorberent. Nam quantum ad oppigne-
rationes, aut ea que a jureconsultis appellantur mortua
vadia, huic certe malo remedium vix exhibebunt: siquidem
aut ea prorsus non accipient homines sine foenore; aut si
accipiant, solutione ad diem minime prestita, summo jure
agent. Memini pecuniosum quendam, virum durum, rure
agentem, qui solebat dicere: “In malam crucem abeat
ista foeneratio; impedimento est, quo minus pignorum et
obligationum poenas exigere possimus.” Tertium et ulti-
mum hoc est: nugas meras dico, si quis existimet, mutua-
tionem pecuniarum facilem, non admisso fcenore, fieri
posse: neque rursus quis animo comprehenderit, innu-
mera que sequentur mala, si contractus illi, mutui dati
et accepti, convellantur. Itaque de abolendis prorsus
usuris sermones facere ineptum foret. Respublice omnes,
pro diversa tamen ad sortem ratione, eas tolerarunt; adeo
ut opinio illa in Utopiam protinus releganda.

Dicamus jam de reformatione et norma usurarum, quibus
nimirum modis, incommoda earum optime evitentur, com-
moda retineantur. Patet jam, conferendo inter se com-
moda et incommoda usurarum, (quod modo fecimus,) duo
esse, que reconciliare oportet. Prius, ut retundantur
dentes foenoris, ne nimium mordeat: secundum, ut viris
pecuniosis aperiatur via, qua ad pecunias mercatoribus
prestandum invitentur, ne commercium intercidat aut
languescat. Hoc autem fieri non potest, nisi in foenore,
duas proportiones introducas; minorem, et majorem. Si
enim fcenus, ad unicam tantum proportionem, eamque
minorem redigas, mutuo accipientem aliquantulum levabis,
sed mercator pecunias non facile reperiet. Atque insuper
notandum est, mercaturam, cum sit omnium maxime lu-
crosa, foenus ad proportionem bene magnam ferre posse ;
alios contractus minime.

Ut his duabus intentionibus satisfiat, hac via insistere
licet. Duz sunto fcenoris proportiones: prior omnibus
permittatur ; posterior cum licentia, aliquibus tantum ho-
minibus, et in aliquibus reipublice locis, ubi mercatura

342 DE USURA SIVE FQGZNORE.

fervet, concedatur. Primo igitur, (si nos audias) reducatur
feenus ad partem vicesimam sortis pro mutuatione in
annum: ea proportio edicto promulgetur, ut libera sit
omnibus. Pro ea accipienda, princeps sive respublica,
mulcte omni renunciet. Hoc ab obstructione aliqua gene-
rali, aut difficultate majore, mutuationem conservabit.
Hoc innumeris mutuatoribus, ruri et alibi degentibus,
solamini erit. Hoc magna ex parte prediorum pretia
adaugebit. Quandoquidem annuus valor prediorum, hic
apud nos in Anglia, excedet illam foenoris, ad hane propor-
tionem redacti; quantum annuus valor sex librarum, ex-
cedit illum quinque tantum. Hoc denique, industrias
hominum, ad utilia et lucrosa inventa, acuet et excitabit :
eo quod plurimi hujusmodi inventis potius se dedent,
quam lucro tam exili, quale diximus, ex usuris, acquies-
cere; presertim cum lucro jampridem majori ex iisdem
assuevissent. Secundo, certis quibusdam hominibus, com-
modandi mercatoribus notis, et non aliis quibuscunque
hominibus, licentia concedatur: hoc autem fiat, additis
cautionibus que sequuntur. Sit proportio, (etiam hee de
qua loquimur,) illa paulo remissior, quam antea solvere
solebant: hoc pacto, universi, tam mercatores, quam alii,
reformatione hac recreabuntur. Princeps autem, sive
respublica, exiguam aliquam summam percipiat, pro licen-
tiis singulis; reliquum lucri, foeneratori cedat: si enim
lucrum fceneratoris leviter tantum minuatur, eum nullo
modo a fcenore exercendo deterrebit: exempli gratia; si
quis antea decem, aut novem libras, pro sorte centum
librarum, quotannis accipere solebat; is etiam octo potius
libris, contentus erit, quam foeneratorem exuet; aut certa
cum incertis commutabit. Sint isti, quibus licentia scilicet
conceditur, numero minime definiti; sed tamen ad urbes
aliquas, et oppida que mercatura florent, restringantur :
ita enim, preetextu licentiarum, opportunitatem non habe-
bunt, pecunias aliorum pro suis commodandi: nec novem
aut octo librarum proportio, licentia munita, generalem
illam quinque librarum absorbebit: nemo siquidem, pecu-
nias suas, procul a se mittere, aut in manus ignotas con-
credere, preoptabit.

343

XL. DE JUVENTUTE ET SENECTUTE.

JuVENIs annis poterit esse senex horis, si temporis jactu-
ram non fecerit. Sed hoc raro contingit. Generaliter,
juventus similis est primis cogitationibus, que secundis
sapientia cedunt. Etenim inest cogitationibus juventus
quedam, non minus quam etatibus, Attamen inventio
juvenum vivacior est quam senum; atque imaginationes
in mentes eorum illabuntur melius, et veluti divinius. In-
genia prefervida et que cupiditatibus violentis, ac per-
turbationibus, huc illuc impelluntur, non matura fiunt ad
res gerendas, donec meridiem etatis sue attigerint: ut
videre est in Julio Cesare, et Septimio Severo. De quo-
rum posteriore dictum est: “Juventutem egit erroribus,
imo furoribus, plenam:” qui tamen, in serie imperatorum
universa, fuit propemodum celeberrimus. Sed ingenia
sedata et composita, etiam in juventute florere possint.
Cujus rei exempla cernuntur, in Augusto Cesare, Cosmo
duce Florentiz, Gastono de Fois, et aliis nonnullis. Ex
altera parte, calor et vivacitas, si in senectute inveniantur,
temperamentum optimum constituunt ad negotia. Juve-
nes ad inveniendum magis idonei sunt, quam ad judican-
dum ; et executione potius quam consiliis validi; et ad
negotia nova melius adhibentur, quam ad consueta. Ete-
him, experientia senum, in iis que sub experientia eorum
cadunt, eos dirigit; sed in rebus novis, eos seducit. Er-
rores juvenum negotia seepenumero pessundant; verum
errores senum non ultra fere procedunt; nisi ut plus fieri
potuisset, aut citius. Juvenes, in rebus gerendis et trac-
tandis, majora amplectuntur, quam comprehendere va-
leant; plura movent, quam componere rursus sciunt; ad
fines advolant gradibus et mediis non bene pensitatis ;
precepta quedam absurde persequuntur, in que casu
inciderunt ; extrema remedia a principio usque tentant ;
denique quod errores conduplicat, errores agnoscere, aut
revocare, detrectant: similes equis male domitis, que nec
se sistere, nec vertere, volunt. Senes plus satis objiciunt ;
in consultationibus nimium morantur; pericula plusquam
expedit reformidant; pcenitentia preepropera vacillant ;
atque negotia raro admodum ad periodum justam dedu-
cunt; sat putantes mediocritate quadam successus frui.
Bonum certe fuerit, in negotiis, mixturam adhibere, et
senum, et juvenum: illud enim in presens utile erit, ut

344 DE JUVENTUTE ET SENECTUTE.

virtutes utriusque etatis, defectus earum corrigent; utile
etiam futuro, ut juvenes perdiscant, dum senes moderen-
tur; postremo accidentia externa melius compescit, quia
senes auctoritate, juvenes gratia et popularitate, pollent.
At in moralibus, juventus fortasse primas tenebit, ut se-
nectus in politicis. Ex Rabbinis quispiam, super textum
illum ; “ (Juvenes vestri videbunt visiones, et senes vestri
somniabunt somnia;)” sic infert; quod juvenes, propiore
ad se aditu, Deus dignatur, quam senes: quia visio reve-
latio clarior et manifestior est, quam somnium. Et sane,
quanto quis magis, de mundo bibit, tanto plus toxico ejus
inficitur: tum senectus, potius in facultatibus intellectus,
quam in virtutibus voluntatis et affectuum, proficit. Sunt,
qui in juventute admodum preecoces sunt, sed currentibus
annis cito marcescunt, et deveniunt evanidi. ‘Tales sunt;
primo qui ingenia nacti sunt fragilia, quorum acies facile
retunditur: qualis fuit Hermogenes rhetor; cujus libri
subtilissimi sunt; verum ipse paulo post stupidus evasit.
Secundum genus eorum, quibus naturales queedam facul-
tates msunt, que magis juventutem decent, quam senectu-
tem ; qualis est oratio fluens, et luxuriosa; que in juvene
laudatur; in sene non item. Ita Cicero loquitur de Hor-
tensio: “ Idem manebat, neque idem decebat.” Tertium
eorum, qui sub initiis, nimium efferuntur; et magnanimi-
tate prediti sunt, supra quam eetas provectior ferre valeat :
qualis fuit Scipio Africanus, de quo Livius ita preedicat ;
“ Ultima primis cedebant.”

XLI. DE PULCHRITUDINE.

Virtus, instar gemme pretiose, optima est, sine orna-
mentis inserta. Atque profecto eadem prestat, in corpore
decoro, licet non delicato; quodque aspectus dignitatem
potius pre se ferat, quam pulchritudinem. Neque fere
reperies, eximie formosos, virtutibus pollere: ac si natura,
in hoe magis incubuisset, ut non turpiter erraret, quam ut
aliquid excellens produceret. Itaque conversationibus
apti sunt, at excelsos spiritus non gerunt: et urbanitati
potius student, quam virtuti. Sed hoc in omnibus non
tenet. Siquidem Augustus Cesar, Titus Vespasianus,
Philippus Pulcher rex Gallus, Edovardus Quartus rex
Angliz, Alcibiades Atheniensis, Ismael Persa, viri prorsus
magni fuerunt, et nihilominus perpulchri.

In pulchritudine prefertur venustas colori; et decorus

DE PULCHRITUDINE. 345

ac gratiosus oris et corporis motus, ipsi venustati. Ea
precipua pulchritudinis portio quam pictura repreesentare
non potest; imo nec effigies ipsa viva, primo aspectu.
Non reperitur pulchritudo aliqua excellens, cui non insit
aliquid minus conforme, in compagine. Haud facile quis
dixerit, utrum Apelles, aut Albertus Durerus, nugator
major fuerit; quorum alter hominem secundum propor-
tiones geometricas eflfingere voluit; alter, ex complunbus
faciebus, optimas quasque partes desumendo, unam sa-
tagebat depingere excellentem. Tales, (credo,) effigies, vix
ulli placebunt, preeterquam pictori ipsi. Non quin existi-
mem, elegantiorem faciem depingi a pictore posse, quam
unquam in vivis fuit; sed hoc ei contingere oportet, ex
felicitate quadam, et casu, (veluti musicis sui cantus, non
autem ex regulis artis. Videre est facies nonnullas, qua-
rum partes singule, examini si subjiciantur, vix unam
reperies quam separatim probes; que tamen in consortio
satis placent. Quod si verum sit, pulchritudinem preci-
puam sitam esse, in motu decoro, mirum sane non est, si
provectiores tate, aliquando videantur juniombus ama-
biliores: secundum ilud Euripidis; “ Pulchrorum au-
tumnus pulcher:” etenim fieri non potest, ut juvenis per
omnia decus tueatur, nisi forte juventutem ipsam, ad sup-
plementum decoris assumas. Pulchritudo est instar fruc-
tus horari, qui facile corrumpitur; nec diu durat: atque
seepe juventutem inducit dissolutam, senectutem autem
sero poenitentem: attamen si bene collocetur, virtutes
splendere facit, vitia erubescere.

XLII. DE DEFORMITATE.

DerormeEs naturam fere ulciscuntur: sicut enim natura
minus illis propitia fuit, ita et illi nature vicissim adversi ;
cum sint plerique ipsorum, (ut loquitur Scriptura,) “ sine
affectione naturali.” Est proculdubio consensus, inter ani-
mam et corpus; atque natura, ubi peccat in uno, pericli-
tatur in altero. Sed quia in fabrica anime conceditur
homini electio, in fabrica corporis imponitur necessitas ;
astra inclinationis naturalis, obscurantur nonnunquam, a
sole virtutis et discipline. Consentaneum itaque fuerit,
de deformitate dicere, non ut signo, quod quandoque fallit ;
sed ut causa, que per-raro effectu destituitur. Quicunque
in persona sua, aliquid habet, quod contemptum inducit,
perpetuum habet in se stimulum, quo a contemptu se vin-

346 DE DEFORMITATE.

dicet: itaque deformes semper audacissimi; in principio,
veluti in defensione sua, utpote qui contemptul exponun-
tur; sed processu temporis, ex habitu acquisito. Iterum
deformitas industiam acuit; ejus generis industriam, ut
aliorum defectus et infirmitates sedulo rimentur; unde
habeant quod rependant. Preeterea, in potentioribus, sus-
piciones et zelotypiam, versus eos, extinguit; veluti ho-
mines quos tuto despicere liceat: competitores autem et
zmulos consopit; utpote nihil suspicantes, de promotione
eorum ad honores, donec ipsos in possessione honorum
videant. Adeo ut si rem diligenter introspicias, in magnis
ingeniis, deformitas ascensum ad honores patefacit. Reges,
antiquis temporibus, (atque hodie etiam in imperiis non-
nullis,) eunuchorum fide: magnopere inniti solebant: qui
enim erga omnes invidi sunt, uni magis fidi sunt, et ob-
noxii. Attamen fidem illis adhibebant, potius ut rimatori-
bus bonis et susurronibus, quam aut magistratibus aut
ministris publicis. Similis etiam est ratio deformium.
Manet illa regula, quam antea posuimus: deformes, si
animosi sint, a derisu et ignominia liberare se gnaviter
contendent: quod fieri non potest, nisi aut per virtutem,
aut per malitiam. Itaque nil mirum cuiquam videatur, si
quandoque in viros egregios evadant; qualis fuit Agesi-
laus, Zangerus Solymanni filius, ASsopus, Gasca Peruvie
preefectus ; Quin et Socrates illis annumerari possit; cum
aliis.

XLII. DE ADIFICIIS.

/EDEs extruuntur, ut in iis habitemus, non ut eas specte-
mus: pulchritudini igitur preponatur usus, nisi forte
utrunque obtineri possit. Relinquamus fabricas edium
speciosas, quee admirationem incutiunt, palatiis poetarum
incantatis ; qui eas extruunt sumptu parvo. Qui domum
elegantem edificat, sed in situ malo, carceri seipsum man-
dat. Situm autem malum intelligo, non tantum ubi aer
insalubris, sed etiam ubi aer inequalis est: quales sunt
edes, quee extruuntur quidem, in colliculo paululum ele-
vato ; sed cincto undique, more theatri, collibus altioribus ;
ubi ardor solis constringitur, venti autem, veluti in canali-
bus, variis estibus reciprocantur: adeo ut in hujusmodi
situ, subito sentias, diversitatem non minorem, caloris et
frigoris, quam si in locis diversis habitares. Neque malum
situm facit aeris solummodo conditio prava; verum etiam

viarum et adituum incommoditas; fora rerum venalium’

Ena Fa

DE ADHICLIS. 347

indiga ; et (si Momum consulas) vicini mali. De complu-
ribus aliis non loquor; qualia sunt, aquarum absentia ;
sylvarum defectus, que et focum, et umbram, preebeant ;
sterilitas soli, aut quod ex variis glebarum generibus
minime commistum sit; prospectus coarctatus ; defectus
terre plane et equabilis; locorum defectus in propinquo,
qui venationibus, aucupiis, cursibus equorum, idonei sint ;
mare nimis in vicino, aut nimis in remoto; commoditas
nulla fluviorum navigabilium, aut etiam incommoditas
ipsorum ob inundationes ; situs remotior ab urbibus mag-
nis, quod negotiis obest, aut etiam propinquior, quod
victui necessaria absorbet, et omnia cara reddit; locus ubi
quis latifundia ampla possideat, aut acquirere possit, et
locus contra ubi pennas extendere nequeat: que singula
minime eo animo enumeramus, acsi domus aliqua his in-
commodis omnibus vacare possit, verum ut tot ex illis
evitemus, quot evitari concedatur; atque rursus, si quis
domos plures edificet, ita rem disponat, ut que in una
desint commoditates, adsint in altera. Responsum Luculli
Pompeio, bellulum erat: qui, cum in palatio Luculli,
immensas et luminosas porticus et cameras conspexisset,
sic infit: “ Optime proculdubio hic habitatur estate, sed
quomodo hyemem toleras?” Cui Lucullus: “ Quid, num-
nam me putas, avium prudentiam non assequi; quarum
nonnulle, hyeme ingruente, sedes mutant? ”
Transeundum jam a situ domus, ad domum ipsam.
Imitabimur Ciceronem; qui libros conscripsit “ De Ora-
tore,” et librum unicum qui inscribitur “ Orator :” quorum
priores preecepta artis tradunt, posterior perfectionem.
Describemus igitur palatium regium, atque ejusdem mo-
dulum quendam conticiemus. Prorsus enim mirabilis res
est, tam vastas hodie existere moles in Europa, quales sunt
Vaticanum, et Escuriale, et nonnulle aliz; in quibus
tamen, cameram aliquam vere magnificam, vix reperies.
Primum igitur statuo, palatium perfectum neutiquam
esse, nisi duas habeat portiones diversas, portionem con-
vivil, ut loquitur liber Hester; et portionem mansionis
sive familie: alterum ad pompas, magnificentias, et cele-
britates; alteram, ad habitationis usum. Intelligo, por-
tiones istas duas, extrui debere, non ut latera domus, sed
ut frontis ipsius partes: easque exterius uniformes esse,
licet interius longe diversas. Conjungi autem volumus
portiones istas, per turrim sublimem et splendidam, in
medio frontis. Atque, quoad portionem convivii, unicam
tantum illic cameram poui velim; eamque supra gradus,.

348 DE ADIFICHIIS.

quinquaginta pedes ad minus altam: et subter eam, came-
ram item alteram, similis longitudinis et latitudinis; que
apparatum et instructionem, ad festa, ludos, et ejusmodi
magnificentias ; actores etiam, dum se ornent et parent,
commode recipiat. Alteram portionem, mansionis, scilicet,
dividi velim precipue, in aulam, et sacellum, utramque
amplam et pulchram: eas vero per universam portionis
longitudinem, extendi nolim ; sed relinqui in exitu ccena-
cula duo; hyemale et estivale: atque subter hec omnia,
(excepto sacello,) cellas amplas subterraneas, collocari
volo; que culinis privatis, promptuariis, panariis, et simi-
libus, inserviant. Quantum ad turrim; eam elevari volo,
usque ad duo tabulata ; utrunque quindecim pedes altum,
supra duas alas frontis; coopertam plumbo, equabili,
atque statuis per fulcra laterum, in summitate, decoratam :
eandem turrim in cubicula diversa distingui volo. Gradus
autem turris apertos esse, et in se revertentes, et per senos
subinde divisos; utrinque statuis ligneis, inauratis, vel
saltem enei coloris, cinctos, cum statione spatiosa et lata
in vertice. Verum cavendum, ne locus ubi famuli come-
dant, sit ad imum graduum, vel prope: si enim sit, cibo-
rum nidor ascendet, tanquam in tubo quodam. Et de
fronte edificii hactenus. Tantum intelligo gradus primos
ascensus, ad viginti pedes sustolli debere ; altitudinem sci-
licet tabulati inferioris.

Ultra frontem eedificii, aream spatiosam designo, cujus
latera tria sint ipsa edium fronte haud paulum humiliora ;
atque in quatuor angulis ejusdem aree, turres extruantur,
altitudinem laterum predictorum nonnihil superantes, ad
gradus, quibus in superiora ascendatur, capiendos: que
turres, non recipiantur in planum eedificii ; sed extra pro-
mineant. Area autem integra lapidibus latis quadrangulis
minime substernatur; nam hujusmodi pavimenta calorem
molestum estate, et similiter frigus asperum hyeme, im-
mittunt ; sed habeat ambulacra, ex ejusmodi lapidibus,
per latera tantum eedificii; et formam crucis, ex iisdem, in
medio; cum quadris interpositis, que gramine vestiantur,
detonso quidem, sed non nimis prope terram. Latus uni-
versum are, ex parte convivil, occupent spatiose et spe-
ciose porticus. In quibus singulis porticibus, sint in la-
quearibus, tres aut quinque sphere concave, (cupolas
vocant,) pulchre, in longitudine posite ; ad equalem dis-
tantiam: sint quoque fenestrae, ex vitro colorato, ubi
pingantur columne, imagines omnigene, flores, et similia.
At latus ex parte familie, simul cum latere tertio e regione

‘
4
t
|
4
i
{
:

4
4
<
|

DE ADIFICIIS. 349

frontis, complectatur cameras preesentiales, et alias usus
ac decoris ordinarii ; atque rursus cubicula: sintque etiam
tria ista, latera ita extructa, ut exhibeant edificium du-
plex; non translucida, sed ex altera tantum parte fenes-
trata; ut tam matutinis, quam vespertinis temporibus,
presto sint camere, in quas sol non intret. Ac commo-
dentur etiam eo modo, ut habeantur ibi cubicula et camere
tam estivales ad refrigerium, quam hyemales ad frigus
arcendum. Invenies non raro edes pulchras, sed tamen
ita vitro et fenestris repletas, ut vix locum suppeditent, ubi
te recipias aut ad solem, aut ad frigus, evitandum., Quan-
tum ad fenestras prominentes sive arcuatas, eas probo
tanquam res commodas, (urbibus sane fenestre ad planum
eedificii, et minime protuberantes, magis conveniunt, prop-
ter uniformitatem structure plateas versus;) sunt enim
receptus colloquiis opportuni: atque insuper, tam ventum,
quam solem, summovent; quod enim alias, per totam fere
cameram, pertransisset, vix ultra fenestram penetrabit.
Rare tamen sint hujusmodi fenestre arcuate, non ultra
quatuor ; due scilicet, ex utroque latere aree.

Ultra hanc, quam diximus, aream, sit alia interior, paris,
et amplitudinis, et altitudinis; horto per exterius circum-
cincta ; interius autem, ambulacris pulchris, arcuatis, usque
ad primum tabulatum, circundata. Pars autem exterior
solarii inferioris versus hortum, quatenus ad duo latera,
convertatur in specum sive cavernam, (grottam moderni
vocant,) ad umbram et estivationem; apertam, aut fene-
stratam, tantum ex parte horti: sit autem caverna illa
solo equa, non omnino depressa; et eleganti pavimento
strata, ad terree vapores excludendos. LErigatur autem in
medio istius aree fons splendidus; aut opus aliquod ex
statuis magnificum ; pavimentum autem simile sit aree illi
antedicte. Hujus arez eedificia, ex utroque latere, desti-
nentur cameris, et conclavibus, secretioribus: latus autem
transversum, porticibus etiam secretioribus. Curandum
vero, ut alique, tam ex cameris et conclavibus, quam ex
porticibus, designentur ad usum infirmorum ; si forte prin-
ceps, aut quivis e grandioribus, egrotaverit. Habeant
autem portiones singule egris destinate, (ut moderni lo-
quuntur,) ante-cameram, cameram ad cubile, et recame-
ram. Heec autem, que diximus, supra secundum solarium
collocentur. At latus transversum solarii inferioris, ver-
sus hortum convertatur in porticum, speciosam, patentem,
et columnis fultam. Rursus, supra solarium tertium,
ex omnibus tribus lateribus, statuantur porticus elegantes,

350 DE ADIFICIIS.

columnares, et apertee, ad prospectum et refrigerium horti
excipiendum. Verum ad angulos duos lateris trans-
versi, in solario secundo, accommodentur et ornentur, duo
splendida et delicata conclavia, (cabinettos moderni vocant;)
pavimento nitente, auleis sumptuosis instructa, vitro crys-
tallino fenestrata, cum cupola elegante in medio. Sint
autem conclavia illa, rebus curiosis omnigenis, et spectatu
dignis, referata. In supremis quoque porticibus, (si fieri
posset,) optarem collocari, juxta parietes, in locis diversis,
fonticulos quosdam aquam emittentes; qui per secretos
tubos iterum transeant. Interior autem pars, in solario
superiore, versus aream, formetur in porticus et ambulacra,
bene munita et obducta, ad usum convalescentium. Atque
hactenus de modulo palatii ipsius: nam de balneis, et pis-
cinis, non loquor. Superest tamen, ut antequam ad fron-
tem edium pervenias, collocentur aree tres; area viridis,
gramine vestita, cum pariete in circuitu, et juxta parictem
arboribus, ordine positis, sata area altera, ejusdem ampli-
tudinis, sed in pariete cujus, sint turricule extructe, aut
simile quid ejusmodi elegantie : area item tertia, quee cum
fronte ipsa edium, quadrangulum constituat; quam edi-
ficio certe aliquo circundatam nolo; neque rursus nudis
parietibus cinctam; sed ambulacris supra columnas, non
arcus, erectis; in summitate vero plumbo, vel lapide qua-
drato, coopertis, et ad latera elegantibus statuis parvis,
zenei coloris, munitis clausam. Quatenus vero ad edificia
omnia, que usibus familiaribus inserviunt, summoveantur
Hla, ad aliquam distantiam, a palatio ipso; ita tamen, ut
interponantur porticus humiliores, et obtecte ; intra quas
ad palatium transire possis,

XLIV. DE HORTIS.

Devs ipse primus plantavit hortum. Atque revera, inter
solatia humana, illud horti est purissimum. Etenim spi-
ritus hominum maxime reficit et oblectat; quo sine, zedifi-
cia et palatia, manus tantum sunt opera, nec sapiunt natu-
ram. Quinetiam notabis, secula cum proficiunt in cultura
et magnificentia, citius pervenire ad eedificiorum pulchri-
tudinem, quam ad hortorum elegantiam et amenitatem :
quasi elegantia illa hortorum esset res perfectior.

Statuo in hortis regalibus, assignari oportere hortos, pro
singulis anni mensibus: in quibus, separatim, plante, que
illo mense florent et vigent, producantur. Pro Decembri,

DE HORTIS. gol

Januario, et fine Novembris, eligende sunt plante, que
er totam hiemem virescunt; Quales sunt, aquifolia ;
dete: laurus; Juniperus; cupressus; taxus; buxus;
pinus ; abies: rosmarinus; lavendula; pervinea, flore albo,
purpureo, et ceruleo, chamedris; irides quoad folia;
arantia, limones, et myrtus, si calidariis conserventur; et
amaracus juxta parietem et versus solem satus. Sequuntur
pro fine Januari, et Februario; arbustum chamelee ger-
manice sive mezereonis, que eo tempore floret ; crocus ver-
nus, flore luteo, et glauco ; primule veris; anemones; tulipa
recox : hyacinthus orientalis; chamairis; fritellaria. Pro
artio; omne genus violarum, precipue purpuree simplici
flore, que sunt precocissime ; pseudo-narcissus luteus ;
bellis; amygdalus, que tunc floret; malus persica, et
cornus, que etiam tunc florent; rubus odoratus. Pro Aprili ;
viola flore albo multiplice; parietaria lutea: leucoium ;
herba paralysis; irides, et lilia omnigena; flores roris
marini; tulipa; peonia, flore multiplice; narcissus verus ;
periclemenum sabaudicum; cerasus, et pyrus, et prunus
diversi generis in flore; acanthus, que tum folia emittit ;
arbor lelac. Pro Maio, et Junio; cama-cariophyllus om-
nium generum, precipue virgineus; omne genus rosarum,
moschata sola excepta, que serius floret; periclemenum
commune; fraga; buglossum; columbina; flos africanus,
simplex, et multiplex; cerasus, que tum fructum profert ;
ribes ; ficus in fructu; baccz rubi ide, vitis flores; laven-
dula florens; satyrium hortense flore albo; herba muscaria;
lilium convallium ; malus florens; flos cyaneus. Pro Julio;
cariophyllata omnium generum; rosa moschata; tilia flo-
rens ; pyra, et poma, et pruna precocia. Pro Augusto;
pruna omnium generum; pyra; mala armeniaca; bacce
oxycecanthe ; nuces avellane; melones moschatelline; et
omnigeni coloris delphinum, sive consolida regalis. Pro
Septembri; uve; poma; papaver variorum colorum; mala
persica; melo-cotonea; nectarine ; corna; pyra hyemalia;
cydonea. Pro Octobri, et principio Novembris; sorba ;
mespila; pruna sylvestria; rose sere; malve arbores-
centes flore roseo; et similia. He vero, quas enumera-
vimus, plante, climati Londinensi conveniunt. Sed hoc
volo, ut sit alicubi, quasi ver perpetuum, prout fert loci
conditio. |
Quoniam autem odor florum, spirans in aere, (ubi un-
dulat more modulationis musice,) gratior multo est, quam
si eos decerpas manu, ideo nihil magis confert, ad delecta-
tionem illam, que ex odore florum percipitur, quam nosse

352 DE HORTIS.

eos flores, et plantas, que adhuc crescentes, nec avulse,
maxime emittunt auras suaves, et acrem odore perfundunt.
Rose tam pallid, quam rube, dum crescunt, odoris sui
sunt tenaces, nec aerem tingunt; adeo ut juxta sepem
earum ambulans, nihil odoris percipies, etiamsi hoc expe-
riaris tempore roris matutini. Laurus itidem, dum crescit,
odoris parum emittit: neque etiam ros-marinus, aut amar-
acus. Id, quod ante omnia, suavissimo odore aerum (cres-
cens) imbuit, est viola; precipue alba, flore multiplici;
que bis quotannis floret; medio Aprilis, et sub finem
Augusti. Ei proxime accedit rosa moschata: tum folia
fragarie marcescentis, que halitum emittunt plane cardi-
acum. Tum flores vitis, qui apparent in racemis noviter
protrusis, ad instar pulveris, qualis est in caule plantaginis.
Tum rubus odoratus. Tum parietaria lutea, que gratissi-
mum edit odorem, sata juxta fenestras conclavis, aut cubi-
culi in imo solario siti: tum cariophyllate, tam minores,
quam majores; tum flores tiliz: tum periclymeni flores,
eminus locati: tum flores lavendule. De floribus fabe
non loquor, quoniam campestres sunt. At ea, que acrem,
jucundissimo odore perfundunt, sed non nisi calcata, aut
contusa, sunt tria; pimpinella, serpillum, et mentha aqua-
tica. Itaque ambulacra integra his sunt conseranda, ut
odorem eorum calcando exprimas.

Horti contentum, (loquor autem de hortis reguis, sicut
feci de edificiis,) haud minus triginta jugerum esse debet:
atque illud in tres partes dividi convenit: graminetum in
introitu; fruticetum sive eremum in exitu; et hortum pre-
cipuum in medio: preter ambulacra utrinque ad latera.
Mihi quidem placet, quatuor jugera gramineto assignari ;
sex fruticeto; bis quatuor ad ambulacra ad latera; et horto
precipuo duodecim. Oblectamentum ex gramineto duplex
est: primum quidem oculis, quibus nihil jucundius est,
quam gramen subinde tonsum, et virescens: alterum, quo-
niam in medio orbita purganda est, qua iri possit versus
frontispicium sepis magnifice, que hortum precipuum
includat. At quoniam orbita ista longa erit, neque in
magnis ardoribus, anni, aut diei, umbra horti emenda est,
ambulatione per graminetum, exposito sole; ideo ambu-
lacra obtecta, duodecim pedes alta, ex opere lignario,
utrinque ad latera gramineti extruenda sunt, per que hor-
tum introire possis, in umbra continua. Quantum autem
ad schemata, et figuras, ex varii coloris terra distinctas,
que subjaceant fenestris edificii, nuge plane sunt. Szepius
videas in placentis talia. Figura quadrata horto optime

ay. Sees

DE HORTIS. 353

convenit; quam undique sepi pulcherrima et arcuata
claudi oportet. Arcus extollantur supra columnas, ex
opere lignario, pedes decem alti, lati sex: spatia autem
inter columnas, ejusdem dimensionis sint cum latitudine
arcus. Supra arcus sit sepes continuata, pedes quatuor
alta, ex opere itidem lignario; et hanc supra, sit turricula
in summitate arcus cujusque extructa, cujus interior capa-
citas sufficiat avicularum cavee excipiende. Et supra
interstitia arcuum collocentur aliz alique figure inaurate,
continentes lamellas vitri collorati, quibus varie ludant
radii solares. Hanc autem sepem intelligo, supra agge-
rem, haud precipitem quidem, sed mediocriter declivem,
sex pedes altum, totum floribus consitum, erigendam esse.
Intelligo etiam, ut hee quadra horti, non totam soli lati-
tudinem occupet, sed satis spatii, variis ambulacris confi-
ciendis, utrinque ad latera relinquat; in que, obtecta illa
gramineti ambulacra, de quibus diximus, deducant. Verum
ad introitum et exitum horti, hujusmodi ambulacra cum
sepibus, omnino omittenda sunt: in introitu quidem, ne
conspectum ameene illius sepis, a gramineto impediat; in
exitu autem, ne prospectum fruticeti per arcus intercipiat.

Dispositionem soli, intra claustrum sepis, variandam ad
placitum relinquo: hoc interim monens, ut queecunque ea
tandem sit; nimis curiosa et operosa ne sit. Imagines
excisas ex junipero, vel alia materia hortensi, non probo:
puerilia sunt ista. Humiles sepicule rotund, instar fim-
briarum, cum pyramidibus parvulis, placent. Columnas
etiam, et pyramides altas, ex opere lignario, in aliquibus
locis sparsas, sepibus vestitas, recipio. Ambulacra ampla
et spatiosa esse volo. Ambulacra angustiora et obtectiora
ad latera summovenda sunt, neutiquam vero in pomerio
horti preecipui collocanda. Consulerem etiam, ut in medio
horti sit monticellus pulcher, cum tribus ascensus ordini-
bus, et tribus ambulacris, ejus latitudinis, ut quatuor una
ambulare possint. Et hec insuper ambulacra_perfecte
circularia esse suadeo, absque figuris propugnaculorum.
Altitudo autem monticelli triginta pedum esto: atque in
vertice, domicellus elegans extruatur, cum caminis venuste
ordinatis, et absque multo vitro.

Fontes quod attinet, magno sunt illi ornamento, et re-
frigerio; sed stagna, et piscine, exulent: hortum enim
insalubrem reddunt, et scatentem muscis, ranis, et simili-
bus. Fontes duorum generum intelligo; unum qui aquam
salientem verset, et dispergat, cum crateribus suis ; alterum
nitidum aque pure receptaculum, quadratum, pedum tri-

VOL, XV. AA

304 DE HORTIS.

ginta vel quadraginta, illime, sine coeno, aut piscibus.
Quoad primum, imagines inaurate, aut marmoree, que in
usu sunt, ornamento esse recte possunt. Sed in eo genere,
cardo rei est, ita aquam regere, ut perpetuo fluat; nec
consistat, aut in cratere, aut in cisterna ; ita ut quiete non
sit decolor ; ; versa aut in viridem, aut rubrum, aut hujus-
modi; neque muscum colligat, aut putredinem. Etiam,
manu purganda est quotidie, ut maneat limpida. Itidem,
gradus aliqui ascensus ad fontem, et pavimentum circa
eum elegans, decori sunt. I[llud alterum fontis genus,
quod balneum sive lavacrum dici potest, multum ornatus,
et curiositatis, recipere potest, quibus non immoramur.
Veluti: ut fanduin sit imaginibus decoratum, latera
quoque ; simul hinc inde vitro variorum colorum, et hujus-
modi corporibus politis, et radiantibus, splendens; circun-
datum etiam clausura humilium statuarum. Sed maxi-
mum est illud; cujus, in priore genere fontium, mentionem
fecimus ; nimirum, ut aqua sit in perpetuo motu; aqua
scilicet, que balneo superior sit, nutrita; per canales
venustos inducta; et rursus, per tubas subter terram
eequalis dimensionis, ne aqua diutius consistat, educta.
Verum quoad curiosas inventiones; arcuandi aquas sine
earum effusione ; et eas effingendi in varias formas, (plu-
marum, poculorum vitreorum, Canopeorum, campanarum,
et similium ;) etiam rupes artificiosas, et hujusmodi, sunt
illa quidem spectatu jucunda, sed nihil ad salubritatem,
aut suavitatem.

Fruticetum autem, quod tertiam totius horti partem
posuimus, velim ut ad similitudinem naturalis deserti prope
accedat. Arbores in illo plantari nolo; nisi quod in
aliquibus locis, erigi preecipio arborum series, que in ver-
tice ambulacra contineant, ramis arborum cooperta, cum
fenestris. Subjaceat autem pars soli floribus odoris suavis
abunde consita, qui auras in superius exhalent ; alias fru-
ticetum apertum esse sine arboribus velim. Dumeta tamen
spargi placet, ex rubo odorato, peryclymeno, et vite syl-
vestri: terram autem ubique consitam volo, violis, fragis
preecipue, et primulis veris. Hee enim plant jucundum
Spirant odorem, et in umbra feliciter crescunt. Dumeta
autem, et ambulacra super arbores, spargi volumus ad
placitum, non ordine aliquo collocari. Probo etiam cu-
mulos parvos, instar eorum quos talpz erigunt, (quales in
ericetis campestribus esse solent,) alios serpillo, cariophyl-
latis minoribus alios, alios chameedri que florem preebet
pulchrum, alios pervinca, alios violis, fragis alios, floribus

FE So ines

DE HORTIS. 355

paralysis alios, bellidibus alios, alios rosis rubris, alios
liliis convallium, alios armeriis rubris, alios helleboro flore
purpureo, et floribus similis, suavibus, et bellis, consitos.
Pars etiam cumulorum habeat in vertice frutices; ez sint,
rosa; Juniperus; aquifolia; oxyocantha; (sed hee rarior
propter odoris gravitatem dum floret;) ribesium_ baccis
rubris; uva crispa; rosmarinus; laurus; rubus odoratus ;
et id genus aliz. Frutices autem ferro resecande sunt,
ne deformiter excrescant.

Jam solum utrinque ad latera, in ambulacra privata,
pro quavis diei parte umbrosa, distribuendum est. Ex iis
etiam quedam, a ventis asperioribus ita munienda sunt,
ut in iis spatiare possit quis, tanquam in porticu. Quine-
tiam, ob eandem causam, videlicet ut venti arceantur, ad
exitus claudenda sunt. Et hee clausa ambulacra, pre-
cipue sabulo substernenda sunt, absque gramine, ne in
udo ambulatio sit. In plerisque horum ambulacrorum,
arbores fructiferee omnigene collocande sunt, tam ad
parietes exteros, quam in ordinibus interius. Et hoc in
genere observari debet, ut terra elevata, in qua arbores
fructiferee plantantur, sit lata, humilis, et molliter ascen-
dens: et floribus suavibus consita, sed raris, ne succo
defraudent arbores, Ad exitus soli lateralis utrinque,
monticellos fieri probo, ad talem altitudinem parietis exte-
rioris, ut in monticello stanti, in agros pateat prospectus.

Rursus, quoad hortum precipuum, non negarem, in eo
confici debere ambulacra quedam, eaque minime angusta,
arboribus fructiferis utrinque consita. Quin et arboreta
aliqua, arborum fructiferarum prope consitarum; et um-
bracula artificiosa et bella cum sedibus ordine elegante
locata: verum hec, nullo modo, nimis confertim; relin-
quendus est enim hortus precipuus apertior, et aere per-
flabilis, et liber. Umbram enim queras velim, in ambu-
lacris lateralibus, ubi in ardoribus anni, vel diei, ambules.
Hortus siquidem precipuus, comparatus est in tempera~
tiores anni partes, vernas, et autumnales ; estate autem,
ad matutina et vespertina tempora, aut etiam ad dies nu-
bilosos.

Aviaria non probo, nisi tante sint amplitudinis, ut
cespites graminei substerni queant; fruticibus etiam et
arbusculis vivis conferantur; ut aves liberius volitent, et
se per diversa oblectare, et componere possint ; utque nulla
in area avearii conspiciatur spurcities.

Quantum vero ad ambulacra in clivis, et variis ascen-
sibus amoenis conficienda, illa nature dona sunt, nec

356 DE HORTIS.

ubique extrui possunt: nos autem ea posuimus, que omni
loco conveniunt.

Horti itaque regi figuram jam delineavimus, partim

receptis, partim ‘modulo generali, sed minime accurato.

t hac in re sumptibus minime pepercimus. Sed ad
principes id nihil est, qui, ut nunc sit, plerunque hortu-
lanos consulunt ; atque haud minore sumptu, varia, parum
cum judicio, componunt : addentes etiam quandoque sta-
tuas, et alia ad magnificentiam, et pompam ; sed ad genui-
nam hortorum voluptatem, et amcenitatem, nihil condu-
centia,

XLV. DE NEGOTIATIONE.

GENERALITER, melius est, per verba negotiari, quam per
literas; et per intercessionem persone tertia, quam per
seipsum. Liter utiles sunt, cum quis, per literas itidem,
responsum elicere desiderat; vel ubi sua intersit, exem-
plaria literarum, quas scripsit, producere, et monstrare :
denique, ubi metuere quis merito possit, ne sermo inter-
rumpatur, aut per portiones audiatur. Contra, viva voce
tractare preestat, cum facies hominis reverentiam incussura
sit; ut fit plerunque in colloquio cum inferiore: aut in
rebus, quas extremis tantum digitis tangere convenit; 1

quibus oculus loquentis, in vultum et: gestum toa
intentus, monere possit, quousque procedere liceat; et
generaliter, quando libertatem quis sibi retinere cupit, vel
dedicendi, vel interpretandi ea que dixerit. In tractando
per alios, cautius et melius fuerit, eos eligere, qui simpli-
Cloris sunt ingenil; quos probabile est, illa, que in man-
datis habent, executuros; et successum rei fideliter narra-
turos: quam eos, qui ex aliorum negotiis, aliquid in se
honoris aut utilitatis transferre, callidi sunt: atque ea,
que referent, verbis emollient, ut impense placeant. Tales
etiam adhibe, qui negotio, cui preeficiuntur, faveant ; id
enim industriam acuit: atque insuper tales, qui cum re
quam tractant congruitatem quandam habent; veluti,
audaces ad expostulandum; blandos ad persuadendum ;
astutos ad observandum et rimandum ; protervos, et paulo
absurdiores, ad res, quee aliquid iniqui habent, transigen-
das. Tales etiam adhibe, qui in negotiis tuis antea trac-
tandis, felices fuerunt, et obtinuerunt ; hoc enim confiden-
tiam parit; et omnem lapidem movebunt, quo. veluti
prescriptionem tueantur. Mcirae fuerit, hominem cum

ote eae

DE NEGOTIATIONE. 357

quo negotiaris, primo leviter degustare, et quasi ex longin-
quo, quam ab initio summam rei proponere ; nisi forte in
animo sit; brevi illum aliqua queestiuncula, irretire, et
opprimere, Preestat cum illis negotiari, qui in ambitu
sunt, quam cum illis, qui desideria sua sunt adepti. Si
cum alio sub conditione negotieris, prima veluti occupatio,
aut possessio votorum, in preecipuis numeranda: id autem
cum ratione postulare nequis, nisi aut natura rei talis sit
que precedere debeat; aut alter1 commode insinuare
possis illum opera tua in aliis usurum; aut denique ha-
bearis ipse pro homine imprimis integro et verace. Omnis
negotiatio eo spectat; aut ut detegat aliquid; aut ut effi-
ciat. Detegunt se homines, vel animum suum communi-
cando; vel cum ira commoti sunt, nec se bene cohibere
sciunt; vel cum ex improviso opprimuntur; vel cum
necessitate quadam adiguntur, non habentes quod pre-
texant. Si quem ad nutum fingere cupias, ut inde efficias
aliquid ; aut inclinationes et mores ejus bene cognoscendi,
ut eum manu ducas; aut fines ejus perspiciendi, ut sua-
deas ; aut infirmitates ejus, et ea quibus obnoxius est,
exploranda, ut terreas; aut denique amici ejus, qui pluri-
mum apud eum valent, conciliandi, ut eo modo regere
possis. In tractando cum callidis et dolosis, verbis. eorum
minime credendum, nisi fines et intentiones eorum habeas
verborum interpretes: quin et optimum fuerit, pauca apud
illos loqui, et que minime expectant. In rebus quibus-
cunque difficilioribus, non expectandum, ut quis simul, et
serat, et metat; sed przeparatione opus est, ut per gradus
maturescant.

XLVI. DE CLIENTIBUS, FAMULIS, ET AMICIS.

CLIENTES sumptuosi minime admittendi; ne dum quis
caude pennas adauget, alarum pennas prescindat. Eos
autem sumptuosos intelligo, non solum qui impensis gra-
vant, sed etiam qui petitionibus molesti et importuni sunt.
Clientes communes, conditiones alias, expectare non de-
bent, extra favorem, commendationem si opus sit, et ab
injuria protectionem. Clientes autem et amici factiosi,
adhue magis vitandi, qui alicui se applicant, non tam ex
amore ipsius cul famulantur; quam ex odio versus alium
concepto. Unde seepenumero sequitur animorum illa aba-
lienatio, quam videre est inter potentiores. Similiter,
clientes illi gloriosi, qui in hoe incumbunt, ut loco bucci-

358 DE CLIENTIBUS, FAMULIS, ET AMICIS.

narum sint, ad laudes eorum resonandas, quibus famu-
lantur, haud parum nocent: etenim negotia futilitate sua
corrumpunt: tum vero honorem domini sui, (si quis vere
rem reputet,) exportant, et mercem invidie invehunt. Est
et aliud genus clientum prorsus periculosum ; qui nil aliud
quam speculatores sunt, et secreta familie rmantur, ac
rursus aliorum auribus insusurrant: attamen hujusmodi
homines, apud dominos suos, seepenumero in summo pretio
habentur ; siquidem officiosi sunt, et susurros fere commu-
tant. Clientele hominum ordinis cujuspiam, si ejusdem
cum patrono ordinis sint, (veluti militum versus illum qui
prefecturam in bellis gessit, et hujusmodi,) semper pro re
decora habitum est, et in bonam partem acceptum, etiam
in monarchiis; modo absit pompa nimia, et popularitas.
Verum clientela, omnium maxime honorifica, ea est; ut
quis patronum se profiteatur, eorum qui virtute et meritis
clarent, cujuscunque ordinis sint, vel conditionis. Attamen
ubi nulla insignis cernitur in meritis dissimilitudo, preestat
mediocribus patrocinari, quam eminentioribus. Atque
insuper, si verum omnino dicendum sit, in seculis aliquanto
corruptioribus, homines industri et satagentes, usul magis
sunt, quam vera virtute prediti. Certe, in imperando,
optimum est, ejusdem gradus subditos, pari comitate trac-
tare: paucos enim immensa gratia prosequi, ipsos magis
insolentes, reliquos malevolos efficiet; quandoquidem or-
dinis paritas equas gratie conditiones, tanquam ex debito,
poscit. Verum econtra, in iis, que favoris meri sunt,
prodest cum delectu afficere ; nam eos, qui benignius trac-
tantur, impense gratos reddet, ceeteros imprimis officiosos :
neque de hoc merito conqueratur quisplam, cum omnia
ex gratia, non ex debito prodeant. Recte cavetur, ne sub
initiis immoderatius aliquem favore prosequaris ; nam que
tractu temporis sequentur, vix istis initiis respondere pos-
sunt. Fingi, (quod aiunt,) et regi, ab amico aliquo, tutum
non est: etenim mollitiem quandam animi prodit; tum
vero convitiis et scandalo occasionem prebet: plurimi
enim, qui nos ipsos immediate non perstrinxissent, ami-
cum illum nostrum contumeliis afficere non verebuntur ;
atque eo modo honorem nostrum vulnerabunt. Attamen,
plurium potestati subjici, et veluti in partes distrahi, adhuc
pejus ; hoc enim nos reddet, postreme (ut nunc loquuntur,)
editionis, et plenos inconstantie. Deliberare cum amicis
aliquot paucis, honorabile sane et utile: “ Spectatores
enim seepenumero plus vident, quam Lusores:” atque, (ut
adagio dicitur,) “ Vallis optime collem monstrat.” Ami-

DE CLIENTIBUS, FAMULIS, ET AMICIS. 359

citia vera, in orbe, rara admodum; et minime omnium ea
que inter equales; quod genus apud veteres celebrari
solebat. Si qua est, ea reperietur inter superiorem et
inferiorem ; fortune quorum, altera alteram, comprehen-
dere possint.

XLVII. DE SUPPLICANTIBUS.

Suscip1uNTuR complura negotia et inventa mala; et peti-
tiones private bonum corrumpunt publicum. Suscipiuntur
etiam complura negotia in se bona, sed animo non bono:
intelligo, non solum corrupto, sed etiam callido; absque
ulla perficiendi negotii intentione. Non desunt, qui peti-
tiones in manus suas recipiunt, et operam avide pollicentur,
quibus tamen ut cum effectu procedant, cure non est:
verum si animadvertant, rem aliorum conatu successuram,
ipsi quoque gratiam aucupabuntur; aut certe mercedem
aliquam secundariam captabunt; aut denique supplicantis
spes dum negotium vertitur, in usum proprium convertent.
Ali petitiones amplectuntur, eo solum animo, ut negotiis
aliorum, que simul tractantur, impedimenta injiciant:
vel ut aliquid obiter deferant et informent, cujus alias
pretextum idoneum parare non potuerint; de petitione
ipsa, cum sibi hoc modo consuluerint, nihil solliciti: vel
generaliter, ut per aliorum negotia, negotiis suis pontem
sternant. Imo et alii tam mala fide agunt, ut petitiones
suscipiant consilio deliberato eas destituendi, quo com-
petitori, aut adversario gratificentur.

Certe si quis rem rite perpendat, comitatur omnem
petitionem, jus quoddam; vel equitatis, si sit petitio
justitie ; vel meriti, si sit petitio gratia. Si quem moveat
inclinatio propria, ut parti iniquiori faveat, in causa ju-
diciali, utatur potius auctoritate sua, ut rem componat,
quam ut obtineat. Si quem moveat inclinatio propria,
ut favore suo minus merentem impertiat, in causa gratie,
abstineat saltem ab omni calumnia, et maledicentia, in
melius merentem. Petitiones, quas ipse non satis intel-
ligis, amico alicui fido et sagaci demanda; qui referat, an
ejusmodi sint, quas salvo honore promovere possis; verum
prudenti et anxio judicio amicus ille deligendus; alias
quidlibet tibi imponet. Supplicantes, his temporibus, adeo
mora, et procrastinationibus, cruciantur, ut veracitas et
candor; vel in negotium primitus recusando; vel in suc-
cessum ejus qualem-qualem animo simplici referendo ;

360 DE SUPPLICANTIBUS.

vel in gratiam non ultra quam par est captando; res facta
sit, non solum laudabilis, verumetiam gratiosa. In peti-
tionibus gratiz, prima petitionis oblatio, nullius debet esse
momenti; eo usque supplicantis fides, in re illa patefa-
cienda, valere possit, ut si notitia ejus, aliunde quam per
eum haberi non potuisset; hoc ei fraudi non sit; sed
potius remuneretur. Valorem ejus, quod petitur, ignorare,
imperitia quedam est; mon secus ac equitatem ejusdem
oscitanter preetervehi, malam arguit conscientiam. Peti-
‘tiones sedulo occultare, non modicum prodest ad obti-
nendum; spes enim jactare, competitorum licet alios
deterrere possit, alios tamen acuet, et excitabit. Verum
temporum opportunitates, ante omnia, in petitionibus
valent. Temporum inquam, non tantum respectu eorum
‘In quorum potestate positum est, petitiones vel rejicere,
vel concedere ; verumetiam respectu eorum, a quibus juste
metuendum, ne se illis opponant. In delectu ejus, cui
petitionis tuee curam demandes, respicias magis aptitu-
dinem, quam amplitudinem; atque eum potius adhibe,
qui paucioribus negotiis se immiscet, quam qui omnia
amplectitur. Denegatz petitionis iteratio concessioni ipsi
quandoque equipollet; modo quis se, nec animo dejectum,
nec male affectum, ostendat; Iniquum petas, ut equum
feras; regula non mala, ubi quis gratia floreat; alias enim,
consultius foret, gradibus quibusdam, ad id quod petis,
ascendere, et aliquid saltem impetrare: qui enim, in prin-
cipio, supplicantis erga se studium, amittere non dubi-
tasset ; is, in fine, et studium supplicantis, et beneficium
prius collatum, simul amittere non sustinebit. Nihil tam
leve videtur, quam viros prepotentes, de literis suis inter-
pellare ; cum tamen, si litere ille, in causis minus honestis,
et justis volitent, tantum de existimatione scribentis de-
pereat. Non invenitur in rebuspublicis perniciosius homi-
num genus, quam generales isti petitionum concinnatores ;
etenim pestes plane sunt, et lues, negotiorum publicorum.

XLVIII. DE STUDIIS, ET LECTIONE LIBRORUM.

Srup1A, et lectiones librorum, aut meditationum voluptati,
aut orationis ornamento, aut negotiorum subsidio, inser-
viunt. Usus eorum, quatenus ad voluptatem, in secessu
et otio imprimis percipitur: quatenus ad orationis orna-
menta, in sermone tam familiari, quam solenni, locum
habet; quatenus vero ad negotiorum subsidium, hue

Ss aa

ee Sc

DE STUDIIS, ET LECTIONE LIBRORUM. 361

spectat; ut accuratiore judicio, res et suscipiantur et dis-
ponantur. Etenim, homines, rerum gerendarum gnari, ad
negotia exequenda, idonei fortasse sunt; et in specialibus,
judicio non malo utuntur: verum consilia de summis
rerum, eorumque inventio et administratio recta, felicius a
literatis promanant, Temporis nimium in lectione et studiis
terere, speciosa queedam socordia est; iisdem ad ornatum
mollius abuti, atfectatio mera est, que seipsam prodit ; de
rebus autem, ex regulis artis judicare, scholam ‘omnino
sapit, nec bene succedit. Naturam litere perficiunt, ab
experientia autem ipse perficiuntur. Dotes enim naturales,
instar plantarum sunt, sponte provenientium, que culturam
et falcem artis desiderant: literee, e contra, generalia nimis
precipiunt, nisi ab experientia determinentur. Callidi
literas contemnunt; simplices admirantur; prudentes,
opera earum, quantum par est, utuntur: neque enim litera
verum sui usum satis edocent; sed hec res, prudentia
queedam est, extra eas, et supra eas sita, observatione
tantum comparata. Libros non legas animo contradicendi,
et disputationum preeliis concertandi; neque rursus omnia
pro concessis accipiendi, aut in verba auctoris jurandi;
neque denique in sermonibus te venditandi; sed ut ad-
discas, ponderes, et judicio tuo aliquatenus utaris. Sunt
libri, quos leviter tantum degustare convenit; sunt quos
deglutire, cursimque legere oportet; sunt denique, sed
pauci admodum, quos ruminare et digerere par est: hoc
est ; libri quidam, per partes tantum inspiciendi; alii per-
legendi quidem, sed non multum temporis, in iisdem
evolvendis, insumendum; ali autem pauci diligenter evol-
vendi, et adhibita attentione singulari. Invenies etiam
libros haud paucos, quos per alios, et vicaria opera, legere
sufficiat, eorumque compendia tantum desumere; verum
hoe fieri nolim, preeterquam in argumentis humilioribus,
et auctoribus minoris pretii: alias enim, libi (ut sic dicam)
distillati, instar aquarum distillatarum, quas vulgo mer-
cantur, erunt penitus insipidi. Lectio copiosum reddit, et
bene instructum ; disputationes et colloquia promptum et
facilem; scriptio autem, et notarum collectio, perlecta in
animo imprimit, et altius figit. Itaque si quis in notando,
seenis sit, aut fastidiosus, memoria illi opus est bona;
si colloquiis se non exerceat, requiritur el ingenium
promptum; sin in legendo parcus sit, hoc solum relin-
quitur, ut artificio quopiam utatur, quo videatur ea
scire, que nescit. Historiarum lectio prudentes efficit ;
poetarum, ingeniosos; artes mathematice subtilitatem

362 DE STUDIIS, ET LECTIONE LIBRORUM.

donant; naturalis philosophia judicium profundum parit ;
moralis gravitatem quandam morum conciliat; dialectica
et rhetorica pugnacem reddunt, et ad contentiones alacrem ;
*“ Abeunt (ut ait ille,) studia in mores.” Quin et vix
occurrit, in intellectu, impedimentum aliquod insitum, aut
naturale, quod non studio quopiam idoneo, emendari et
edolari possit: quemadmodum morbi corporis, exercitiis
quibusdam propriis, levari possint. Globulorum lusus
calculo et renibus salubris; sagittatio pulmonibus et
thoraci; lenis deambulatio ventriculo; equitatio capiti, et
similia. Eodem modo, si cui sit ingenium vagum et
volucre, mathematicis incumbat; in demonstrationibus
enim mathematicis, si mens vel minimum aberret, de novo
incipiendum est: si cuipiam ingenium sit minus aptum,
ad rerum differentias et distinctiones eruendas, ad scho-
lasticos se conferat: illi enim cymini sectores sunt; si quis
ad transcursus ingenii segnis sit, nec alia in aliorum
probationem, et illustrationem, accersere, et arripere dextre,
noverit, jure-consultorum casus evolvat: adeo ut singuli
intellectus morbi, ex literis, medicinas proprias comparare
sibi possint.

XLIX. DE FACTIONIBUS.

PLURIMI opinionem minime sanam foverunt; hanc nimi-
rum; principi, in status sui administratione, et viro magno,
in actionum suarum directione, ad factiones, que invalu-
erunt, preecipue respiciendum; atque hanc_ principalem
prudentie partem esse: cum e contra, facultas hee pru-
dentiz, quam maxime vigeat, vel in disponendis rebus,
que ad omnes sine discrimine pertinent, et in quibus
homines diversarum factionum coeunt; vel in palpandis,
conciliandis, et tractandis singulis. Neque tamen assero,
factionum debitam corisiderationem, esse negligendam.
Humilioris fortune viri, cum in ambitu sint, alicui parti
adherere debent ; verum potentioribus, et jampridem ho-
norem adeptis, consultius est, zquos se preestare, in neutram
partem propendendo. Quin, et in ambientibus, ita caute
adheerere, ut videatur quis alteri ex partibus addictus, et
tamen parti adversee minime odiosus, viam quandam sternit

ad honores, per medium factionum. Factio inferior, et

debilior, in conjunctione, plerunque firmior, et constantior :
et non raro observari poterit, paucos qui obstinati et perti-
naces sint, factionem numerosiorem, sed tamen moderatam,
in fine defatigare, et depellere. Factionum altera post-

DE FACTIONIBUS. 363

quam extincta fuerit, illa que manet, in factiones novas
disrumpitur ; veluti, factio Luculli, et optimatum, ad tem-
pus aliquod, se in satis magno vigore, contra factionem
Pompeii et Ceesaris, sustinuit; verum postquam auctoritas
senatus, et optimatum, deprimebatur ; factio ipsius Ceesaris
et Pompeii, in partes propediem scissa est. Similiter,
Factio Antoni, et Octaviani Cesaris, contra Brutum et
Cassium, ad tempus aliquod duravit; sed deletis copiis
Bruti et Cassii, Antonius et Octavianus, cum partibus
suis, paulo post dissilierunt. Exempla heec (dices) ad
factiones bellicosas spectant, sed idem in factionibus pri-
vatis tenet. Itaque, in factionibus qui secundas antea
tenebant, factione scissa, seepius primas tenent: contra
tamen, haud raro, potestate omni excidunt: complures
enim in oppositione tantum valent; qua cessante, actutum
deveniunt inutiles. Observatu dignum, quod sepe evenit ;
plurimos nimirum, postquam voti compotes sint, et in dig-
nitate quam ambierunt collocati; continuo se applicare
contrarie factioni; existimantes forsitan, se de alterius
factionis affectu et studiis, jamdudum certos esse; itaque
ad amicos novos conciliandos se comparare. Proditor in
factionibus plerunque rem obtinet; postquam enim, res
diutius, tanquam in equilibrio, suspense hesissent, tum
demum unius alicujus in partes contrarias transitio, vic-
toriam refert; in eumque gratiz omnes cumulate. Indif-
ferens illa inter partes processio, neutri inclinando, non
semper ab animo moderato procedit; sed a consilio callido,
quandoquidem proximus sibi quisque sit, atque ex utraque
factione utilitatem demetere speret. Certe in Italia, in
suspicionem incurrit papa, de quo vox illa, in vulgus
volitat ; “‘ Padre commune.” Tum etiam in signum tra-
hitur, papam illum, omnia ad familie suze amplitudinem
referre, in animo habere. Regibus imprimis cavendum
est, ne factioni alicui subditorum suorum, se ex professo
adjungant: lige enim confcederationis, intra statum quem-
piam, monarchiis semper exitiales: siquidem obligationem
introducunt obligatione ipsa imperi validiorem, atque
regem constituunt; tanquam unum ex nobis: id quod
cernere erat in liga Francie. Cum factiones, manu dorti,
et palam, concertant, signum est imperil in regibus labas-
centis; multumque prejudicat, ipsorum et auctoritati, et
negotiis. Motus factionum, sub regibus, similes esse
debent, motibus, (ut astronomi loquuntur,) orbium infe-
riorum; qui suos habent motus proprios, sed interim,
conversione primi mobilis, cum obsequio, circumferuntur.

364

L. DE CHREMONIIS CIVILIBUS, ET DECORO.

Qui realis solummodo est, ei multa virtute opus duco;
sicut gemma, que sine omnamento omni inseritur, e puris-
simis et nitidissimus esse debet. Verum, si quis diligenter
animadvertat, fit in laude, quod fit in lucro: obtinet enim
proverbium illud ; “ Lucra levia crumenam eflicere gravem.”
Siquidem, lucra levia frequenter redeunt, cum majora
rarius se offerant. Similiter, verissimum est, virtutes
exiguas magnas conciliare laudes, quia perpetuus earum
usus est; tum in observationem hominum incurrunt: cum
e contra, virtutis alicujus magne exercende occasio, raro
admodum obtingit. Itaque ad famam et existimationem
alicujus multum juvat, et, (quemadmodum Isabella, Regina
Castiliana dicere solebat,) “ instar epistolarum commenda-
titiarum, que nunquam non presto sint,” haberi possit ;
si quis formulis utetur discretis et decoris. Ad has addis-
cendas, nihil ferme aliud requiritur, quam ut eas quis non
contemnat: ita enim in aliorum moribus easdem obser-
vabit; de reliquo autem nemo sibi diffidat. Si enim
majorem illis operam navabit, de pretio decident: quod in
illo potissimum situm est, ut tanquam native videantur, et
minime affectate. Nonnullorum vultus, et gestus, et
externa alia, instar versus sunt, in quibus syllabee singule
mensurantur; qui poterit magna comprehendere, qui se
tam pusillis rebus submittit? Caremoniis decentibus,
erga alios, omnino abstinere, perinde est ac si doceas,
easdem illos erga te negligere; quo pacto teipsum facies
viliorem. Precipue, nequaquam omittende erga illos,
quibuscum familiaritate minime conjunctus es: neque erga
homines ingenio fastidioso. Verum, excessus in illis, et
locutio plane hyperbolica, (quali nonnulli utuntur,) non
solum res molesta, sed etiam fidem et pondus, eorum que
dicuntur, omnino minuit. Est proculdubio modus, arti-
ficiosee cujusdam insinuationis, in verbis ipsis, inter for-
mulas communes, qui homines revera inescat, et mirifice
afficit; qui eximie alicui prodest, si quis ejus viam calleat.
Inter equales, de familiaritate sollicitum esse, mhil opus
est; quare reprime te paululum, et dignitatem tuam tuere:
at inter inferiores non deerit reverentia; itaque inter illos,
benigne te gerere, et cum familiaritate quadam, non incon-
eruum est. Qui in sermone aliquo, aut re, nimius est,
adeo ut satietatem inducat, valorem sui ipsius minuit.
Aliis se applicare, bonum est; modo cum significatione

Fe cn Da Oh RA ah Maat od

DE CHREMONIIS CIVILIBUS, ET DECORO. 365

quadam fiat, hoc non ex facilitate prodire, sed ex comitate
et urbanitate. Preceptum non contemnendum est; cum
in alterius sententiam iveris, aliquid semper de proprio
addere: exempli gratia; Opinioni ejus suffragaris? cum
distinctione, et non alias, fiat: propositioni ejus annuere
libet? Fiat sub modo aliquo vel conditione: consilium
ejus sequi et amplecti visum est? Novi alicujus argu-
menti pondus addas, propter quod in partes ejus transire
videaris. Cavendum imprimis, ne magister in ceeremoniis
et formulis, habearis: id enim si fiet, utcunque virtute
vera emineas, audies tamen ab invidis, in nominis tui
detrimentum, ‘urbanus tantum et affectator. Etiam negotiis
damnosum est, si quis formulas nimium affectet; vel in
opportunitatibus et temporibus deligendis, impense curiosus
sit. Solomon inquit; “ Qui observat ventum, non semi-
nat; et qui considerat nubes, nunquam metet;” prudens
opportunitates plures faciet, quam inveniet. Mores homi-
num externi, vestibus eorem similes esse debent ; non sint
nimis concinni, nec corpus coarctantes; sed qui libertatem
preebeant, ad exercitia, et motum quemlibet.

LI. DE LAUDE.

Laus virtutis reflexio est. Atque, ut fit in speculis, trahit
aliquid e natura corporis, quod reflexionem prebet. Si a
vulgo proficiscitur, ut plurimum, reflexio illa prava est, et
falsa; et vanos potius ac tumidos, quam vera virtute
preditos, comitatur. Sub captum siquidem vulgi, virtutes
complures, quee excellunt, non cadunt. Virtutes minores,
ab is, laudes extorquent ; medic, admirationem quandam
vel stuporem, illis incutiunt; sublimes autem, in sensum
aut perceptionem eorum, prorsus non veniunt. Sed appa-
ritiones virtutum, et species virtutibus similes; illos afficiunt
quam maxime. ‘Sane, fama fluvio similis est, que levia et
inflata attollit, gravia et solida mergit. @iod si viri etiam
judicii profundioris, et dignitatis, cum vulgo concurrunt,
tum id, quod scriptura dicit, contingit; “ Nomen bonum
instar unguenti fragrantis.” Omnia undique replet, neque
facile evanescit. Etenim odores unguentorum, durabiles
magis sunt, quam florum. Laudum tot conditiones fallaces
sunt, ut laus merito in suspicionem venire possit. Laudes
quaedam ab adulatione sola prodeunt; quod si adulator sit
vulgaris, attributis quibusdam utetur communibus, et que
omnibus competere possint ; non queesitis aut appositis ;

366 DE LAUDE.

adulator callidior si sit, vestigia premet adulatoris princi-
palis; intelligo, tui ipsius; et in quibus tibi places, aut
teipsum excellere putas, tis adulator inherebit maxime:
sin adulator sit impudens, et perfricte frontis, tum demum,
in quibus conscius tibi sis defectus tui, et ad que maxime
erubescis, ea -adulator tibi vel precipue imputabit, et
affiget, per vim, spreta conscientia. Laudes nonnulle, a
voluntate bona cum reverentia conjuncta, proficiscuntur ;
que sane laudum formula, principibus, et viris qui-
buscunque dignioribus, debetur; Laudando precipere:
cum scilicet apud illos predicando, quales sint, humiliter
moneas, quales esse debeant. Sunt qui laudibus quan-
doque onerantur, animo malitioso ; ad conflandam invidiam,
et odia concitanda, “ pessimum genus inimicorum laudan-
tium ;” ut ait ille: adeo ut apud Grecos, in proverbium
exierit: “Ei, qui in malum suum laudaretur, pustulam
nari continuo adnaturam:” sicut apud nos vulgo dicitur ;
“ Cum quis mentiatur, metuendum ne ejus lingue, scabies
propediem oboriatur. Illud asserere licet, laudes mode-
ratas, tempestive irrogatas, et minime vulgares, honori vel
maxime esse. Dictum est Solomonis; “ Qui benedicit
proximo suo voce grandi, de nocte consurgens, maledicenti
similis erit;” etenim, vel hominem, vel rem aliquam, ad
ccelum usque evehere, contradictionem irritat, et derisui
exponit. Veruntamen, ut seipsum laudare, servato decoro,
vix conceditur, nisi in casibus admodum raris; ita voca-
tionem suam, et munus quod gerit, aut studia quibus se
addixit, laudare quis cum venia possit, imo cum specie
quadam magnanimitatis. Cardinales Romani, (qui theologi
sunt; et fratres et scholastici,) verbum usurpant, extremi
contemptus et convitil, erga negotia civilia: vocant enim
negotia civilia, (veluti, belli, legationum, judiciorum, et
hujusmodi,) Hispanico vocabulo, “ Sbirrarias ;” quod sonat,
munera lictorum et scribarum. Ac si artes ille memorate,
magis ejusmodi homines, quam in fastigio cardinalatus
positos, decerent : et tamen, (si res rite ponderetur,) specu-
lativa cum civilibus non male miscentur. Sanctus Paulus,
cum de seipso gloriatur, illud nonnunquam interponit;
“ Ut stultus loquor,” at cum de vocatione sua verba facit,
nihil veretur dicere ; “ Magnificabo apostolatum meum.”

remibaicite

367

LII. DE VANA GLORIA.

ELEGANTER quidem ‘Esopus: “ Musca sedens super
radium rote currus, ita secum ; quantum pulverem moveo ?”

Similiter, existunt quidam futiles et vani, qui, cum aliquid
vel sponte procedit, vel manu potentiore cietur, si modo
ipsi vel minimam rei partem attigerint, continuo putant se
machinam totam vertere. Gloriosi semper factiosi ; etenim
nulla ostentatio sine comparatione sui est. Quin et vio-
lenti ut sint, necesse est, ut que verbis jactitarunt, revera
preestent. N eque taciturni omnino esse possunt ; ideoque
opere, ut plurimum, destituuntur; sicut Gallis 1 in prover-
bium abiit ; “ Beaucoup de bruit, peu de fruit :” Strepitus
multum, fractus parum. Attamen, sine controversia,
hujusmodi ingeniis, in civilibus, aliquando uti prodest. Si
fama excitanda sit, vel opinio late spargenda, sive virtutis,
sive potenti, istiusmodi homines buccinatores egregil sunt.
Rursus, sicut prudenter notat Livius, circa tractatus An-
tiochi et Aitolorum ; “ Mendacia reciproca, et ex utraque
parte, quandoque magno usui esse possunt;” veluti, cum
quis inter principes duos negotietur, ut eos ad bellum
indicendum, principi tertio concitet; atque hoc ut efficiat,
unius copias apud alterum, supra ‘modum, et veritatem,
vicissim attollat. Quin et hoc fit quandoque, ut qui inter
privatos tractet, apud utrunque existimationem suam au-
geat, artificiose insinuando, se apud alterutrum plus posse,
quam revera potest. Atque in his, et hujusmodi haud
raro accidit, ut aliquid ex nihilo producatur: mendacia
enim opinionem ingenerare sufficiunt ; opinio autem rem
et substantiam progignit. In ducibus, et viris militaribus,
gloriosum esse, non inutile est; sicut enim ferrum acuit
ferrum, ita per gloriam hanc animi invicem acuuntur, et
excitantur. Insuper, in actionibus magnis, que sumpti-
bus, et periculo privatorum, suscipiuntur, ingenia jacta-
bunda vivacius negotia impellunt : qui enim ingenio sobrio
sunt, et solido, plus habent saburre, quam veli. Rursus,
in existimatione doctrine et literarum cujuspiam, non
volitabit fama illius per ora virum, neque bene alata erit,
sine plumis aliquibus ostentationis. “Qui de Rontenmnenda
gloria libros scribunt, nomen suum inscribunt ;” inquit
ille Socrates, Rriatoteles, Galenus, (magna nomina,) i ingenio
jactabundo erant. Certe gloria vana, “ad propagandam et
perpetuandam memoriam ‘magnopere juvat: neque virtus

368 DE VANA GLORIA.

ipsa, tantum humane nature debet, propter nominis sui
celebrationem, quantum sibi ipsi. Fama siquidem Cice-
ronis, Senece, Plinii Secundi, ad hunc usque diem vix
durasset, aut saltem non tam vegeta, nisi conjuncta fuisset, |
cum aliqua vanitate et jactantia, in seipsis. Jactantia
enim, instar vernicis videtur esse, que ligna non solum |
splendere facit, verum etiam durare. Atqui, dum hec de |
vana gloria dissero, minime eam qualitatem intelligo, quam
attribuit Tacitus Muciano: “ Omnium, que dixerat, fece- ©
ratque, arte quadam ostentator:” hee enim ex vanitate j
neutiquam procedit, sed ex arte, et prudentia, cum mag- |
nanimitate quadam conjuncta: et in aliquibus hominibus, |
qui natura veluti comparati ad eam sunt, res est, non
solum decora, sed et gratiosa. Excusationes enim decore,
concessiones tempestivee, quin et modestia ipsa bene tem-
perata, nihil aliud sunt, quam ostentationis artes. Neque
inter artes hasce, reperitur aliqua felicior, quam illa, de
qua loquitur Plinius Secundus, hoc est ; liberaliter et co-
piose id in aliis laudare, in quo ipse emineas. Nam ad
hunc modum ille, ingeniose satis: “ In alio laudando, tibi |
ipsi ministras: is enim, quem laudas, aut superior tibi est, |
aut inferior; si inferior, et tamen laudandus, tu multo
magis ; Si superior, neque jure laudandus, tu multo minus.”
Gloriosi prudentibus derisui sunt; stultis admirationi ;
parasitis preede et escw; sibi ipsis, et glorie vane, man-
cipia.

LITT. DE HONORE ET EXISTIMATIONE.

Honoris et existimationis, vera, et jure optimo, acquisitio,
ea est; ut quis virtutes, et facultates suas, dextre, et
absque detrimento, revelet. Nonnulli enim, in actionibus
suis, proci fame sunt, et veluti venatores: quod genus
hominum, sermonibus plerunque celebratur, sed interiorem
animi reverentiam vix assequitur. Alii, contra, virtutem
suam, inter monstrandum, obscurant; ex quo fit, ut opi-
nione minores sint, quam merita ipsorum postulant. Si
que rem suscipiat, simulque perficiat, que prius intentata
uerat ; aut tentata quidem, sed deserta; aut ad exitum
forsan perducta, sed minus commode, et feliciter ; is hono-
rem adipiscetur majorem, quam si quid perfecisset gravioris
sane diflicultatis, et momenti; sed in quo, alterius tantum
vestigia, et non ultra, premeret. Si quis actiones suas, ita
inter se committat, et contemperet, ut in aliquibus earum,

V%«

DE HONORE ET EXISTIMATIONE. 369

singulis factionibus, vel populi combinationibus, satisfaciat ,
harmonia erit tanto perfectior. Honoris sui minime fru-
galis dispensator est, qui rem quamvis suscipit, in qua
dedecoris plus fuerit, votis excidere, quam obtinuisse,
honoris. Honor, qui comparativus est, et alium pregravat,
reflexionem habet maxime vividam ; instar adamantis, aut
carbunculi, cum angulis multiplicibus secti. Itaque, enixe
hoc agas, ut competitores tuos, si modo possis, etiam in iis,
in quibus ipsi summe gloriantur, superes. Servi, et amici
familiares, prudentes modo sint et cauti, existimationi
cujuspiam, non modicum prosunt: ita Quint. Cicero:
“ Omnis fama a domesticis emanat.” Invidia, que hono-
ris veluti tinea et teredo est, optime extinguitur, si quis id
sibi preestituere videatur, ut meritum potius ambiat, quam
famam: et successus suos prosperos, magis providentize
divine, et felicitati cuidam tribuat, quam artibus aut virtu-
tibus propriis.

Gradus, honoris imperialis, sic vere et optime ordinan-
tur, Primo loco statuendi, conditores imperiorum ; quales
fuerunt Romulus, Cyrus, Julius Cesar, Ottomannus, Is-
mael. Secundo loco, legum-latores ; qui etiam vocabantur
conditores secundi, aut perpetui principes; quoniam legi-
bus suis, etiam post mortem, imperia administrant; quales
fuerunt Lycurgus, Solon, Justinianus, Eadgarus, Alphonsus
Castilianus, cognomine sapiens, qui septem partitiones
edidit. Tertio loco, liberatores, vel servatores patriarum
suarum ; qui bellis intestinis diutinis finem imposuerunt,
aut patrias, a servitute alienigenarum, vel tyrannorum
liberarunt: veluti, Augustus Cesar, Vespasianus, Aurelia-
nus, Theodoricus, Henricus Septimus rex Angliz, Henricus
Quartus rex Galliz. Quarto loco, propagatores, sive pro-
pugnatores imperii; qui bellis honorificis fines imperii pro-
tulerunt; vel defensione strenua et nobili, invasoribus res-
titerunt. Ultimo loco, patres patriee ; qui juste imperant,
et temporibus felicibus, quamdiu vivunt, cives suos beant.
In his ultimis duobus, exempla non adduco, quandoquidem
tanto numero sint. Honorum, qui subditis competere pos-
sunt, gradus hi sunt. Primo statuendi participes curarum ;
li nimirum, quorum humeris, precipuum pondus, rerum
suarum, principes imponunt: vulgo appellamus manus
regum dexteras. Secundo, duces belli; regum suorum
intelligo locum-tenentes ; qui operam eis egregiam in bellis
prestant. Tertio, gratiosi; eos volo, qui non ultra hoc
potes sunt, quam ut principibus solatio sint, et populo
innoxil. Quarto, negotiis pares ; qui magnos sub princi-

VOL. XV. BB

370 DE HONORE ET EXISTIMATIONE.

pibus gerunt magistratus; in quibus juste et prudenter
versantur. Est et genus quoddam honoris, quod raro con-
tingit ; et tamen inter maximos reponi meretur: hic est,
eorum, qui se morti, et periculis, devovent, et sacrificant,
propter bonum patrie : quod fecerunt Marcus Regulus, et
duo Decii.

LIV. DE OFFICIO JUDICIS.

Meminiss& debent judices, esse muneris sui, jus dicere,
non autem jus dare: leges inquam interpretari, non con-
dere. Aliter, deveniet eorum auctoritas, simile quiddam,
auctoritati illi, quam sibi vendicat ecclesia Romana: que
pretextu interpretationis Scripturum, etiam addit aliquid
quandoque, et immutat: et pronunciat, quod non invenit ;
atque specie antiquitatis, introducit novitatem. Judicem
oportet esse, potius eruditum, quam ingeniosum ; venera-
bilem, quam gratiosum ; magisque deliberativum, quam
confidentem. Ante omnia, integritas judicum quasi portio
est, virtusque propria. “ Maledictus sit (inquit lex) qui
terminum terre movet antiquum;” sane, qui lapidem,
fines distinguentem, transponit, culpa non caret. Verum
judex injustus ille est, qui preecipue terminos immutat,
cum de terris et rerum proprietate, iniquam fert senten-
tiam. Una certe iniqua sententia plus nocet, quam exem-
pla plurima. Hee enim, rivulos tantum inficiunt, illa
autem fontes, Ita ait Salomon; “ Fons turbatus, et vena
corrupta, est Justus cadens, in “causa sua, coram adver-
sario.” Officium judicis relationem habere possit, partim
ad litigantes ; partim ad advocatos; partim ad scribas et
ministros justicie subtus; partim ad principem vel statum
supra.

Primo quantum ad causas et litigantes. “ Sunt (inguit
Scriptura) qui judicium vertunt in absynthium:” sunt
etiam certe, qui illud vertunt in acetum. Injusticia enim
illud reddit amarum ; mora acidum. Judex strenuus, hoc
preecipue agit, ut vim et dolum, compescat: quorum vis
Magis perniciosa est, quanto apertior ; dolus quanto tectior
et occultior. Adde etiam lites contentiosas ; que evomi
debent, ut crapula curiarum. Judicem decet, viam parare
ad justam sententiam, qualem Deus parat: “ Valles exal-
tando; colles deprimendo:” eodem modo, quando ex
alterutra parte, videt judex, manum elatam, veluti in pro-
secutione importuna, captionibus malitiosis, combinationi-

DE OFFICIO JUDICIS: STi

bus, patrocinio potentum, advocatorum disparitate, et
similibus, tum elucescit virtus judicis in zquandis lis, que
sunt inequalia; ut judicium suum, veluti in area plana,
fundare possit. “ Qui fortiter emungit, elicit sanguinem ; ”
cumque torcular vini premitur fortius, vinum prodit acer-
bum, acinum sapiens. Itaque caveant sibi judices, ab
interpretationibus legum duris, et illationibus alte petitis :
neque enim pejor est tortura, quam tortura legum. Pre-
cipue in legibus peenalibus, cure lis esse debet, ne que in
terrorem late sunt; vertantur in rigorem: neve in popu-
lum superinducant, imbrem illum, de quo Scriptura:
“ Pluet super eos laqueos.” Etenim leges pcenales, si
severe executioni demandentur, sunt similes imbri laqueo-
rum, cadenti super populum. Itaque hujusmodi leges, si
vel dormiverint diu, vel temporibus presentibus minus
quadrent, a judicibus prudentibus, in executione earum,
reprimantur :

Judicis officium est, ut res, ita tempora rerum, etc.

In causis capitalibus, decet judices (quantum lex per-
mittit,) in judicio meminisse misericordie ; et cum severi-
tate exemplum, cum pietate personam, intueri.

Quantum ad advocatos qui causas agunt; patientia, et
gravitas, in causis audiendis, justitie est pars essentialis ;
et judex nimium interloquens minime est cymbalum bene-
sonans. Non laudi est judici, si primus aliquid in causa
inveniat, et arripiat, quod ab advocatis, suo tempore, melius
audire potuisset: aut acumen ostentet, in probationibus,
vel advocatorum perorationibus nimis cito interrumpendis ;
aut anticipet informationes questionibus, licet ad rem per-
tinentibus. Judicis partes in audiendo sunt quatuor :
probationum seriem ordinare; advocatorum, et testium,
prolixitatem, repetitionem, aut sermones extra rem, mode-
rari; eorum, que allegata sunt, medullam, et que majoris
momenti sunt, recapitulare, seligere, et inter se componere ;
et demum sententiam ferre. Quicquid ultra hee est,
nimium est ; et oritur aut a gloriola et loquendi aviditate ;
aut ab audiendi impatientia; aut a memorize debilitate ;
aut a defectu attentionis sedate, et equabilis. Sepe-
numero mirum est visu, quantum advocatorum audacia
apud judices valeat; ubi contra judices ad imitationem
Dei, (in cujus tribunali sedent,) “ Superbos comprimere,
et humiles erigere,” deberent. Sed etiamnum magis mirum
est, judices advocatis quibusdam pre ceteris immoderate
et aperte favere. Quod necesse est, ut merces advoca-

ote DE OFFICIO JUDICIs.

torum augeat et multiplicet, atque simul suspicionem cor-
ruptionis, et obliqui ad judices aditus, inducat. Debetur
advocato a judice, laus aliqua, et commendatio, cum cause
bene aguntur, et tractantur ; preesertim, si causa sua cadat ;
hoc enim apud clientem, existimationem advocati sui tue-
tur, et simul opinionem ejus, de causa sua, prosternit.
Debetur etiam reipublice reprehensio advocatorum mode-
rata, ubi callida nimis prestant consilia; aut supina appa-
ret negligentia, aut levis informatio, aut indecora impor-
tunitas, aut impudens defensio, Advocatus autem illud
tribuat judici, ne ilh obstrepat, aut se rursus in causam
agendam callide insinuet, postquam judex de re pronuncia-
verit. E contrario autem, judex se cause media, et nulla-
tenus perorate, non ingerat ; nec clienti occasionem pre-
beat, ut advocatos suos, vel probationes, ad plenum non
auditas conqueratur.

Quantum ad scribas et ministros, Sedes justitiz, veluti
locus sacratus est ; ubi non tantum sedes ipsa, sed et sub-
sellia, et preecinctus sedis, scandalo et corruptelis vacare
debent. Etenim (ut ait Scriptura) “ Non colliguntur uve
ex spinis ;” neque justitia suaves suos fructus edere potest,
inter vepres et dumeta, scribarum et ministrorum rapacium,
et lucris inhiantium. Curiarum assecle pravi sunt qua-
tuor: primo seminatores litium; qui curias tumescere
faciunt, populum tabescere. Secundo, qui curias conten-
tionibus circa jurisdictionem implicant; neque vere sunt,
(ut habentur) amici curie; sed parasiti curie; curias
inflando ultra terminos, propter micas et compendia propria.
Tertio, 1, qui possunt censerl tanquam curiarum manus
sinistre: homines, qui curiarum processus legitimos, di-
verticulis, et versutiis, distorquent ; justitiamque in lineas
obliquas, et labyrinthos, trahunt. Quarto, expilatores et
exactores feodorum, qui tritam similitudinem confirmant
curiarum ad rubum; quo dum ovis, tempestatem fugiens,
se recipit, velleris partem amittit. Contra, scriba anti-
quus, in anteactis curiarum peritus, in actis ipsis conci-
piendis cautus, et in negotiis curiz solers, digitus est curie
egregius; et seepe judici ipsi viam monstrat,

Quantum vero ad prineipem aut statum. Judices, ante
omnia, in memoria fixum tenere debent, versiculum ulti-
mum Duodecim Tabularum Romanarum: “Salus populi
suprema lex;” et pro certo ponere, leges, nisi sint in
ordine ad eum finem, res esse captiosas, et oracula male
inspirata. Itaque, bene succedit, cum rex aut status se-
pius cum judicibus deliberat ; et rursus, cum judices prin-

DE OFFICIO JUDICIS. ST:

cipem et statum szpius consulant. Ille, cum inter delibe-
rationes politicas interveniat questio juris: hi, cum in
subjecto legali interveniant considerationes status. Con-
tingit enim, haud raro, ut res in judicium adducta, versetur
circa meum et tuum, et nihilominus consequentia ejus ad
rationes status penetret. Intelligo autem, ad_rationes
status pertinere, non solum, si quid ad jura regalia impe-
tenda spectet; verumetiam si quid innovationem aliquam
minus tutam, aut exemplum periculosum, introducat; aut
si manifesto portionem aliquam populi majorem gravet.
Neque quisquam infirmi judicii existimet, justas leges
adversus politica vera aliquid antipathie habere. Sunt
enim hec duo veluti spiritus et nervi, quorum alteri in
alteris moventur. Recordentur etiam judices, Salomonis
thronum leonibus utrinque suffultum fuisse: sint sane
leones, sed leones sub throno; caventes, ne aliquid ex
juribus regalibus impetant aut convellant. Postremo, ne
sint judices tam ignari juris et prerogative sue, ut
cogitent, non sibi relinqui, tanquam muneris sui partem
principalem ; sanum et prudentem legum usum, et appli-
cationem. Etenim in animum revocare poterint, dictum
illud apostoli, de lege humanis legibus majore: “ Nos
scimus quia lex bona est, modo quis ea utatur legitime.

LV. DE IRA.

{ram penitus extinguere velle, ostentatio quedam Stoico-
rum est. Meliora nos nacti sumus oracula: “ Irascimini,
et nolite peccare; sol non occidat super iracundiam ves-
tram.” Limites ire apponendi sunt, et quousque, et
quamdiu. Dicemus primo, quibus modis, inclinatio natu-
ralis, aut etiam habitus ire, temperari possit, et leniri.
Secundo, qualiter particulares motus ire reprimi possint,
aut saltem citra nocumentum cohiberi. Tertio, quibus
modis ira excitari possit, aut sedari in aliis.

Quantum ad primum; non alia se ostendit via, quam
ut serio in animo revolvas mala et calamitates ire; et
as vehementer vitam humanam perturbat, et infestat.

oc autem tempestivum fuerit, maxime si pone nos respi-
cilamus, quamprimum impetus ire resederit. Eleganter
Seneca: “ Iram ruine similem esse, que in aliud cadendo,
seipsam comminuit et frangit.” Hortatur Scriptura: “ Ut
animas nostras in patientia possideamus.” Certe, qui-

374 DE IRA.

cunque patientia excidit ; de anime sue possessione deji-
citur. Hominis non est apes imitari :

-—— Animasque in vulnere ponunt.

Ira sane, si quis recte attendat, res humilis est, et infra
dignitatem hominis. Hoc liquebit, si illos intueamur, in
quibus ira regnat: qui plerunque ex infirmioribus sunt;
pueri, mulieres, senes, egroti. Itaque, cum irasci con-
tigerit, caveant homines, (si modo dignitatis suze velint
esse memores,) ne iram suam, cum metu eorum quibus
irascuntur, sed cum contemptu, conjungant; ita ut injuria
superiores potius videantur, quam inferiores: quod non
difficile factu foret, si quis iram suam paululum regat, et
inflectat.

Quantum ad secundum; cause et motiva ire preecipue
tres sunt. Primo, si quis pronus sit ad sensum injurie ;
nemo enim irascitur, nisi qui se lesum sentiat. Itaque
teneri qui sunt, et delicati, ut subinde irascantur, necesse
est: tot se offerent, que illis molestiam exhibebunt; que
a naturis robustioribus vix sentientur. Secundo, si quis
curiosus et perspicax sit in interpretatione injurie illate,
quatenus ad circumstantias ejus, ac si contemptum spiraret,
Opinio enim contemptus iram excitat et acuit, plusquam
lesio ipsa. Itaque, si homines ad ista ingeniosi sint, iram
miris modis incendent. Ultimo, opinio contumelie, sive
quod existimatio hominis per consequentiam ledatur et
perstringatur, iram intendit et multiplicat. Cui rei accedit
remedium presentaneum, ut quis utatur, (quod Consalvus
dicere solebat,) tela honoris crassiore: sed in omnibus ire
frenationibus, optimum est, tempus lucrari; et sibi ipsi
persuadere, horam vindicte nondum adesse; sed instare,
quasi ad manum, opportunitatem aliquam majorem ; atque
hoe pacto motum animi interim compescere; et se in tem-
pus aliud servare. Ira autem, ut citra noxam erumpat,
utcunque hominem obsederit, duo sunt, que maxime ca-
venda. Prius est, acerbitas verborum, preecipue aculea-
torum, et ei, quem ferimus, propriorum, communia enim
maledicta mordent minus. Atque rursus, secretorum reve-
latio; hoc enim societati quemvis ineptum reddit. Pos-
terius est, ne quis, dum ira fervet, negotium, quod in
manibus est, abrumpat; sed utcunque ire frenum laxet,
nihil tamen agat, quod revocari non possit.

Quantum ad excitandam, aut sedandam, tram in aliis ;
fit hoc maxime per temporum electionem prudentem. Cum

a i ata PORE i a i TE lll

DE IRA. 375

subtristes homines sunt, aut aliquantulum morosi, tempus
est iram incendendi. Deinde, ut antea diximus, decer-
pendo, et inculcando, quicquid contemptum arguere, aut
ageravare possit. Rursus, ira sedatur per contraria hisce.
Primo, deligendo tempora serena, et ad hilaritatem prona,
in quibus negotium aliquod ingratum, et ad iracundiam
provocans, aperias: prima enim impressio plurimum valet.
Deinde, ut, quantum fieri potest, injuriam a contemptu
segreges ; eam imperitie, timori, animi concussioni repen-
tine, aut simili cuipiam imputando.

LVI. DE VICISSITUDINE RERUM.

SALOMON inquit; “ Nihil novum super terram.” Itaque,
quemadmodum Plato opinatus est; “ Omnem scientiam
nihil aliud esse, quam reminiscentiam ; ” sic Salomon pro-
nunciat; “ Omnem novitatem nihil aliud esse, quam obli-
vionem.” Ex quo cernere possis, fluvium lethes, non minus
super terram, quam subter teram, decurrere. Astrologus
quidam abstrusus, et parum notus, asserit: “ Nisi in causa
fuissent res due constantes ; (una, quod stelle fixe equa-
lem inter se distantiam perpetuo servent; nec unquam
propius sibi invicem accedant, aut longius a se abscedant :
altera, quod motus diurnus non variet, ne momentum
quidem temporis) individuum aliquod durare potuisset.”
Illud certum est, materiam in perpetuo fluxu esse, neque
unquam consistere. Atqui, magna illa lintea sepulchralia,
que omnia oblivione involvunt, duo sunt ; diluvia et terre-
motus. Quatenus ad conflagrationes, et siccitates magnas,
ille populum penitus non absorbent, aut destruunt. Fa-
bula Phaetontis, brevitatem conflagrationis, ad unius tan-
tum diei spatium, representavit. Atque triennalis illa,
a pluvia cessatio, tempore Elie, particularis tantum fuit,
et multos superstites reliquit. Incensiones illas loqueris,
que per fulmina et fulgura apud Indias Orientales fiunt !
Anguste quidem sunt, nec magna spatia occupant. Pes-
tilentias etiam preetereo, quia nec ille totaliter absorbent.
Verum, in memoratis illis duabus calamitatibus, (dilu-
viorum, et terree-motuum,) insuper notandum est ; reliquias
populorum, quas emergere contigerit, plerunque homines
rudes et montanos esse; quique temporum preteritorum
memoriam posteris tradere non possint; adeo ut oblivio
non minus omnia involvat, quam si nulli prorsus superstites

SE
376 DE VICISSITUDINE RERUM.

remanerent. Si quis attente introspiciat Indorum Occi-
dentalium conditionem, probabile reperiet, eos populum
juniorem esse et recentiorem, quam populos orbis veteris.
At longe verisimilius est, desolationem illam, que illos
olim invaserat, minime per terre-motus factam: (contra
quam narrabat sacerdos AXgyptius, in colloquio cum
Solone, de insula Atlantide; eam, scilicet, a terre-motu
absorptam esse;) sed potius per diluvium particulare.
‘Terree-motus enim in illis regionibus raro eveniunt. Verum,
e contraria parte, tam immania plane et vasta habent
flumina, ut fluvii Asie, Africe, et Europe, pre illis, instar
rivulorum sint. Quin et Andes ipsorum, sive montes,
nostris longe sunt altiores: unde credibile est, reliquias
stirpis hominum, apud. eos, post tale diluvium particulare,
conservatas fuisse. Quantum veto, ad_ observationem
Macciavelli; nimirum, zelotypiam et emulationem sec-
tarum, ad extinguendam rerum memoriam, multa molitam :
qui Gregorio magno notam inurit, ac si pro viribus suis
antiquitates omnes ethnicorum supprimere annixus fuerit :
non video certe hujusmodi zelos, aut notabile quidpiam
efficere, aut diu durare: id quod liquet in successione
Sabiniani, qui antiquitates easdem statim resuscitavit: tum
vero prohibita, licet tenebris cooperta, obrepunt tamen,
et suas nanciscuntur periodos.
_ Vicissitudines sive mutationes in globo superiori, fusius,
in hoe sermone, tractande non sunt. Forsitan, annus
magnus Platonis, nisi mundus ante dissolution esset desti-
natus, aliquem sortiri possit effectum: non in renovandis
corporibus individuorum ; (id enim fumus et vanitas eorum
est, qui opinantur corpora ccelestia, accuratiores in hee
inferiora habere influentias, quam revera habent;) sed
tantum in summis et massis rerum. Comete proculdubio
aliquid operantur super easdem summas et massas rerum ;
verum, homines, ut nunc est, indiligentes, aut curiosi,
circa eos sunt; eosque potius mirabundi spectant; atque
itineraria eorundem conficiunt, quam effectus eorum pru-
denter et sobrie notant; precipue effectus eorum compara~
tivos; id est, cometa talis magnitudinis; talis coloris et
lucis; conversionis radiorum ; situs, quatenus ad regionem
coli; tempestatis anni; semite aut cursus; durationis ;
quales producat effectus.

Leviculum quiddam est, quod olim inaudiveram; neque
tamen prorsus contemni volo, sed in observationem aliquam
yenire. Ferunt, a Belgis notatum esse, singulis septenis

DE VICISSITUDINE RERUM. Ski

lustris, similem annorum temperaturam et tempestatum
ceeli, velut in orbem redire: exempli gratia; magnas glacies,
inundationes magnas, magnas siccitates, hyemes tepidas,
estates frigidiores ; et similia. Vocant autem hujusmodi
circulum annorum, Primam. Hoc autem ideo recenseo,
quod oculos in preterita conjiciens, hujusce rei inveni
congruentiam ; haud exactam sane, sed non multum dis-
crepantem.

Verum transeamus a naturalibus ad humana. Maxima
apud homines vicissitudo, est illa sectarum et religionum.
Hi enim orbes, animis hominum, maxime dominantur.
Religio vera super petram edificata est; reliquee fluctibus
temporum agitantur. Dicamus igitur de novarum sectarum
causis; atque consilii aliquid circa eas inspergamus ;
quatenus humani ingenii infirmitas, tantis revolutionibus,
moras injicere, aut remedia exhibere, poterit.

Quando religio recepta discordiis laceratur; sanctitas
item professorum labefactata est, et scandalo exposita;
simulque tempora stupida, indocta, et barbara sunt; a
nove alicujus secte ortu merito metuendum ; precipue, si
eo tempore, ingenium aliquod intemperans, et paradoxa,
spirans, suboriatur. Que omnia tenuerunt, Mahometes
cum legem suam promulgavit. Secta nova licet pullulet,
duobus si destituatur adminiculis, ab ea non metuas; non
enim late se diffundet. Primum est, imperil, sive auctori-
tatis stabilite, oppugnatio; nihil enim magis populare
est, quam principatus, et politias, convellere. Alterum est,
porta luxurie et voluptatibus aperta: hereses enim specu-
lativee, (qualis fuit olim Arrianorum, et hodie Arminia-
norum,) etsi in hominum ingenia miris modis operentur,
statum tamen rerumpublicarum non magnopere concutient,
nisi ex occasione motuum civilium. Modi tres sunt,
quibus nove secte plantantur; miraculis, eloquentia, et
gladio. Equidem martyria inter miracula numero; quoniam
vires nature humane excedere videntur: idem etiam facere
licet, de excelsa illa et admirabili vite sanctimonia. Certe,
non alia melior via est, ad sectarum et schismatum ortus
repellendos, quam abusuum reformatio; dissidiorum mi-
norum pacificatio; leniter a principio procedere, et a
sanguinariis ) eabecrbea pean abstinere ; schismatum denique
corypheos, favoribus potius et dignitatibus mollire atque
allicere, quam violentia et sevitia exacerbare.

Mutationes et vicissitudines in rebus bellicis, haud pauce
sunt; sed preecipue in tribus versantur: in sede belli; in

378 DE VICISSITUDINE RERUM.

genere armorum; et in disciplina militari: bella, antiquis
temporibus, movere videbantur, ex oriente potissimum in
occidentem: etenim Perse, Assyrii, Arabes, Scythi, (qui
invasores erant,) omnes orientales fuerunt. Verum est
Gallos fuisse occidentales: sed de duabus tantum ipsorum
incursionibus legimus ; una in Gallo-Greciam, altera contra
Romanos. Attamen oriens et occidens cceli climata non
determinant; neque etiam belli motus, ab oriente, aut ab
occidente, aliquid certe observationis recipiunt. Sed
meridies, et septentrio, natura fixi sunt: atque raro, in
omni memoria invenitur, meridionales interiores invasisse
septentrionales; sed e contra. Unde manifestum est,
tractum mundi septentrionalem, natura ipsa, magis esse
bellicosum; sive hoc ascribi possit hujus hemispherii
stellis; sive amplitudini continentium ad partes septen-
trionales, cum partes australes, (quantum adhuc inno-
tuit,) maria fere occupant; sive, (id quod manifestissimum
est,) frigoribus climatis borealis; nam hoc ipsum, absque
alia causa quacunque, corpora indurat, spiritus inflam-
mat: ut liquet in populo Araucensi; qui ad ulteriora
austri positi, omnibus Peruviensibus, fortitudine longe
preecellunt.

Imperio aliquo magno labascente, et viribus fracto, pro
certo bella expectes. Etenim imperia magna, dum in
vigore sunt, copias nativas provinciarum enervant et
destruunt, propriis cohortibus domi fidentia; cum autem
et ille deficiunt, omnia ruunt, atque aliis gentibus in
predam cedunt. Hoc evenit in declinatione imperii Ro-
mani; atque etiam in imperio occidentali, post Carolum
magnum, cum aves singule plumas suas repeterent; atque
simile quidpiam, etiam imperio Hispano, contingere possit,
siquando viribus decideret. Ex altera parte, accessiones
magne ditionum, et uniones regnorum, similiter bella
suscitant: etenim, cum status aliquis in potentiam majorem
insurgit, similis est fluvio intumescenti, qui inundationem
statim minatur: ut videre est in imperiis Romanorum,
Turcarum, Hispanorum, et aliorum. Attende, cum mundus
nationibus barbaris minus abundet, sed civiliores fere sunt ;
qui uxores temere non ducent, nec liberos progignent, nisi
modum familiam alendi, aut saltem victum parandi, previ-
derint; (ut fit in omnibus prope nationibus, hodierno die,
exceptis Tartaris,) non ingruit periculum ab inundationibus
aut migrationibus populorum: at cum populorum greges
magni sunt, qui perpetuo sobolem suscipiunt, de fortunis

DE VICISSITUDINE RERUM. 379

et sustentatione sua in futurum minime solliciti; neces-
sarium est, ut in seculo uno aut altero, portionem aliquam
multitudinis sue exonerent, et novas sedes querant; et
sic alias nationes invadant; quod populi septentrionales
veteres sorte facere solebant: sortes dantes, que pars
don maneret, que autem alio migraret. Cum gens aliqua,
prius Bellicosa, ad mollitiem et luxuriam degenerat, de
bello certa esse possit: status enim tales, plerunque, dum
degenerant, opes accumulant; adeo ut preeda invitet, et
declinatio virium animet, gentes alias, ad eosdem inva-
dendos.

Quantum ad armorum et telorum genus; illorum muta-
tiones sub observationem vix cadunt: attamen et hec ipsa
periodos et vicissitudines suas sortiuntur. Pro certo enim
est, tormenta enea, apud urbem Oxydracarum in India,
tempore Alexandri Magni, cognita fuisse; eaque a Mace-
donibus, tonitrua, et fulgura, et operationes magicas,
habita et appellata. Similiter, indubitatum est, usum
pulveris pyri, and tormentorum igneorum, Chinensibus,
ante annos bis mille, innotuisse. Conditiones telorum, et
mutationes in melius, he sunt: primo, ut ad distantiam
majorem feriant: id enim periculum, ab hostili parte,
anticipat; quod certe tormenta, et sclopeta majora prestant.
Secundo, ut impetus eorum fortior et validior sit; in quo
genere, tormenta ignea, arietationes omnes et antiquas
machinas, item superant. Tertio, ut usus eorum com-
modior et facilior sit; id quod etiam tormentis igneis
majoribus competit : que omnibus tempestatibus idonea ;
vectura levia et mobilia sunt: et his simuilia.

Quod ad militiam attinet: antiquis temporibus numerum
precipue curabant; virtuti et animis militum, in bellis
gerendis, fidebant; dies seepius et loca preeliandi consti-
tuebant, et zquo marte experiebantur; denique in acie
instruenda et ordinanda imperitiores fere erant. Postea,
numerum preoptabant commodum potius quam vastum ;
locorum opportunitates, diversionum artificia, et similia,
captabant; postremo, in acie ipsa instruenda peritiores
evadebant.

In reipublice alicujus adolescentia arma florent; «tate
media literee; ac deinceps, ad moram aliquam, duo illa
simul, florere solent: devexa autem etate, artes mechanice
et mercatura. Literee vero suam habent infantiam, quando
leviuscule sunt, et pueriles: sequitur earum adolescentia,
quando luxuriantur, et juvenile quiddam sapiunt: suc-

380 DE VICISSITUDINE RERUM.

cedit etas virilis, quando solidiores et exactiores deveniunt ;
postremo senectus earum obrepit, cum sicce et exhauste
fiunt; manente tamen garrulitate. Verum consultum non
fuerit, in rotas hasce vicissitudinum, nimis longum oculos
figere ; ne vertigine corripiamur. Quatenus vero ad philo-
logiam, que in hoc argumento, ut plurimum, versatur,
nihil aliud est, quam narratiuncularum et observationum
futilium congeries quedam; ideoque scripto huic minime
congruit.

INDEX.

AiR, the theory of Anaximenes, that it
is the sole element discussed, 53.
Alchymists have by their researches

brought much profit to mankind, 29.

Alphabet of Nature, rule and form of,
209. -

Ambitions of men, three kinds of, 35.

Ambulacra privata, 355.

Anaxagoras, 26.

Anaximenes, his theory that air is the
one sole element discussed, 53.

Anaximenes, see Empedocles.

Ancient philosophers, their theories
concerning primitive matter, 49.

Antarctic hemisphere, dusky spots in,
what are causes of, 183.

Antiquity, knowledge not to be sought
in the obscurity of, but in the light
of nature, 99.

Antiquity, philosophers’, some of their
opinions not false or vain, 101.

Aristotle, remarks on his system of
Natural Philosophy, 26.

Aristotle subjected his contemplations
to terms, 50.

Aristotle, his custom to prefer the
obscure, 173; his annihilation of
all affinity between the heavenly
bodies and all elementary substances
a piece of great temerity, 173.

Aristotle as a moral philosopher sur-
passed by Tacitus, 102.

Art, the true extent of, and its power
over nature, 154.

Astronomers, it is of no use to refute
their hypotheses, 12.

Astronomical observations, admonition
respecting, 13.

Astronomy, conceits of philosophers
which have disturbed, 10.

Astronomy ought to be carefully dis-
tinguished between it and philoso-
phy, 172.

Audibles and Visibles, and other so
called spiritual species, consents of,
240, 243; dissents of, 231, 235,
241, 242, 244,

Bacon, Lord, his reasons for devoting
himself to philosophy, 103.

Bacon, Lord, reasons which induced
him to devote himself to philosophy,
220, 223.

Bodies, distinction of, according to the
quantity of matter they contain in
a given space, 126.

Body, of, affected by body, 185.

Bodies, propension of, to conglomerate
with the earth, 185; their influence
terminates in its own sphere, 185.

Cause and Effect, things which agree
ia their periods or in their mode of
relation, are always subjected one
to the other, or stand on cause and
effect, 197.

Chance, its ponte in promoting dis-
covery and invention, 37.

Choleram refert, 333.

Circular motion, eternity cannot be
predicated from, 174.

Circular motion no proof ofeternity, 178.

Classes, things cannot be properly
arranged into, by one who Be not
very well understand the motion of
them, 209.

Combination and succession of sci-
entific efforts, on the, 119.

Communication and transmission of
discoveries and inventions, 42.

Compass, the effects produced by the
invention of, 35 ; Discovery, see In-
vention.

Conceits of philosophers, which have
corrupted the science of Astronomy,
10.

Copernicus, difficulty of his system of
the earth, 165 ; opinion that it must
have echoed from the ancients, 165;
the sun, opinion that it is centre,
quite new; system, depth of, the
third question, 165.

Cupid and Love, the fables of the an-
cients respecting, 44,

382

Cupid, why fabled to be without a
parent, 45.

Cupid, able interpretation of those
parts of, which make Cupid a de-
finite person, 50 ; and veiled, 51.

Democritus, the philosophy of, ex-
hibited in the fable of Cupid, 44,
49.

Democritus, the repute in which his
philosophy is held, 48; circum-
stances which caused it to sink into
neglect, 48; primitive remarks on
the theory of Democritus and Leu-
cippus, 167 ; intermixtum and coa-
cervatum theories of, 167 ; whether
the interstellar space or pure ether,
be one entire unbroken stream, or
consist of a variety of contiguous
parts, 168.

Democritus, his theory of the uni-
verse, 162.

Dissimulatione et Simulatione, 260.

Eartn, whether it is perishable, 173 ;
the internal parts not more exposed
to decay than the heavens them-
selves, 174.

Earth itself furnishes the cause of al-
most none of its changes, 174.

Earth, rotation of, an extravagant no-
tion, 199 ; whether the diurnal mo-
tion is confined within the region of
heaven, 198.

Earth, the idea that it is a magnet a
light imagination, 203 ; inward parts
of, cannot resemble any substance
which the eye of man hath seen, 203.

Ecclesie unitas, qui sunt ejus fructus,
254; qui limites, 255 ; quibus mo-
dis concilietur, 257.

Echo, phenomenon of, 240.

Element, the author intends by the
word only larger masses of conna-
tural substances, 157.

Empedocles, 26.

Empedocles, his theory of the sub-
stance of the moon, 183.

Empirical, when united with philoso-
phical, means of arts and science,
will accelerate their progress, 39.

Errors of times past in natural philo-
sophy a source of hope for the fu-
ture, 40.

Ether, three regions of—region of air,
of planetary heaven, of starry hea-
ven, 169.

Ether, the outer body of, not certain
that it is diaphonous, firm, and im-
mutable, 175.

INDEX.

Ether, the opinion that it is the vehicle
to which the stars are carried, 182.
Eternity of the sun, objected to that
innumerable changes take place on
its surface, and not in heaven an-

swered, 180.

FLAME, difference between terrestrial
and celestial, 147.

Flame, expansion of the body of, may
be estimated by probable conjecture,

GENERATIONS, history of, or nature at
large, five divisions of, 157.

Gilbert, his theory of a ‘* vacuum coa-
cervatum,’ 4.

Gilbertus, his theory that stars are solid
bodies in vacuo except surrounded
by an atmosphere, 166.

Gilbertus, his observations that heavy
bodies carried a distance from the
earth are gradually divested of their
motion towards bodies beneath, 185.

Globe, intellectual description of, 156.

Globe, is the form into which larger
accumulations of things impart them-
selves, 171.

God, no sufficient light for the know-
ledge of, to be expected from the
interpretation of natural things, 92.

Gradations, fine, alternate into dis-
tinct transits by nature, 169; Sun
mascule in a germ of starry matter,
169 ; Jupiter, satellites of, 169.

Gravity, specific, see matter; history
of the expansion and conjunction of
in the same body, 137.

Greece, philosophers of, their systems
of natural philosophy, 25.

Gunpowder, effects produced by the
invention of, 35.

HEAVENS, surprising changes and ano-
malies take place therein, apparent
from the appearance of new stars,
176.

Heavenly bodies, theory of the matter
composing them, 1.

Heavenly bodies, theory of their mo-
tions, 13; opinions affirmed and
denied by this theory, 14.

Heavenly bodies, history of, should
only embrace phenomena and not
dogmas, 158 ; detailed statement of,
160.

Heavenly bodies, when the substance
is different from that of this lower
orb, 173.

Heavenly bodies, change in, 175;

SO ee ae
RS

iO an el eRe CE atte AH

INDEX.

some instances of, 176; not to be
ascribed to atmospheric errors, 177.

Heavenly bodies, their changes, 175.

Heavenly bodies, motion of, not evi-
dence of their eternity, 178.

Heavenly bodies may act on one ano-
ther, 179.

Heavenly bodies that straggle from ex-
perience, Aristotle’s theory that they
are not subject to heat, 180.

Heraclitus, 26.

Heraclitus, his theory that fire is the
one sole element discussed, 53.

Heraclides, of Pontus, Elephantus and
Nicetas, of Syracuse, Philolaus,
their opinions of the universe, which
exploded the notion of a system,
163.

Hero, explanation of an altar described
by him, 149.

History, natural, the basis of natural
philosophy, 122.

History, natural, chief cause of com-
plaint respecting, is that men have
erred rather in the mode of proceed-
ing than in design, 124.

History, natural, of things individual,
152.

History, divided into natural and civil,
182.

History of generations, 157.

Hopes of the progress of invention and
discovery, 36.

INDUCTION, what form of, should be
introduced, 42.

Tnstauration, outline, argument, and
scope of the second part of, 106.
Interpreter, qualities of the, 90 ; duties

of the, 91.

Interpretation of nature, or the inven-
tion of things and works, thoughts
and observations concerning, 16.

Interpretation, impediments of, 89.

Inventions of man which we possess
are very imperfect, and cannot be
ascribed to philosophy, 16; causes
which repress inventions—the belief
that all is impossible that is not
already found, 16; a greater apti-
tude to admire the provisions of man
than to apprehend his wants, 18 ;
premature reduction into systems,
18 ; mistakes respecting the ends of
science, 19.

Invention, the modes of, in use, re-
viewed, 32.

Invention, a general mode of, induce-
ments to altempt its discovery, 33.

Inventions, the value and efficacy of,

383

effects produced in the condition of

the world by the invention of print-

ing, gunpowder, and the compass,
5.

Invention and discovery, their advance-
ment—a kindling of the desire to
effect it, 33; formation of hopes,
36; means of performance, 41.

Inventions, the mode of communi-
cating and transmitting them, 42.

Invention and discovery, hopes and
prospects of their progress, 36; from
the operation of time, 36; from the
power of chance, 37; from trans-
ferring and applying inventions al-
ready known, 39; from the union
of the empirical and philosophical
means of arts and sciences, 39 ; from
the errors of times past, 40; means
of performance, general maxims
concerning, 40,

Kine’s College, Cambridge, pheno-
menon in, a wooden building there
containing bells, 244.

Knowledge, not to be sought in the
obscurity of antiquity, but in the
light of nature, 99,

LEARNING, human, divided into three
parts, 150.

Light, topics of enquiry concerning,
82; presence and absence tables,
82; table of degrees, 83; colours
of, 83; reflexions of, 83; multipli-
cation of, 83 ; modes of destroying,
84 ; operation of, 84; continuance
of, 84; ways and progress of, 85;
transparency, 85; cognations and
hostilities of light—light compared
with sound, 86.

Light, natural, aphorisms concerning
the kindling of, 87; helps of the
mind and kindling of natural light,
aphorisms and advice concerning,

Light, opinion of Telesius that com-
mon air contains a quantity of, 181.
Light and sound, the agreements and
disagreements of the phenomena of,
231, 235, 240, 241, 242, 243.
Love, see Cupid.

MAN, condition of, 89.

Matter, quantity of, whether always
measured by weight, 128, 131.

Matter, a table of the conjunction and
expansion of, in tangible bodies, with
a calculation of their ratios in dif-
ferent bodies, 129; account of the

384

experiments from which the table
was made, 130; cautions and ob-
servations, 131.

Matter, whether there be other masses
of solid, besides the earth, opinion
of Gilbertus, 182.

Matter, bodies distinguished according
to quantity of matter they contain in
a given space, 125.

Mechanical things, the study of, 123.

Moon, opinion that it is composed of
solid matter, 183.

Moon, substance of, 183.

Moon, mass of, projected by Gilbertus
and examined by Galileo, 183.

Musical instrument played on by the
rays of the sun, 149.

Nature, thoughts and observations
concerning the interpretation of, 16.

Nature, only conquered by obeying,
35

Nature, the principles and origin of,
according to the fables of Cupid and
Heaven, 44.

Nature, interpretation of, 230.

Nature, hints on the true interpretation
of, 106.

Nature, legitimate interpretation of,
in the first ascent, should be kept
separate from works, 222.

Natural Philosophy, causes which
have retarded its progress ; its having
become merely a passage to other
arts, 20; superstition, 20; customs
of universities, schools, and colleges,
21; causes arising from the common
feeling of men, 22; the vagueness
of words, 23; false promises held
forth by some of its professors, 24 ;
the rejection of particulars, 24.

Natural history of things individual,
152.

Natural History, division of, accord-
ing to its subject, 153.

Natural History, division of, accord-
ing to its use, 155.

Natural History what the noblest
end of, 155; a true one wanting
and of what kind it ought to be, 155.

Natural Philosophy, new systems of,
those of Telesio, Fracastoro, Cardan,
and Gilbert, 27.

Natural Philosophy concerning those
systems which are received, and
those which have come to us from
ancient times, 25.

OIL, mode of expansion of, and phe-
nomenaattending the boiling of, 146,

INDEX.

Optical instruments, the benefits which
the world is likely to derive from
their invention, 160.

PLaTo, remarks on his system of Na-
tural Philosophy, 26.

Plato subjected the world to his con-
templations, 50.

Plato, his works do not breathe such
living observations of manners as
the works of Tacitus, 102.

Platonic school and Patricius, what
they have said concerning the
heaven of heavens and pure space,
mere figments, 171.

Particular objects, their investigation
not an endless task as that of
Opinions and disputes is, 125; nor
derogatory to the human mind, 125.

Parmenides, the philosophy of, as ex-
hibited in the fable concerning
Cupid, 44.

Pensile, whether solid globe can remain
so, 185.

Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, the four,
and order of them, 170.

Sea, ebb and flow of, 192 ; motions of,
are only five, 192; the great six-
hours diurnal motion principally
treated, 192 ; motions of currents do
not contradict the notion of a natu-
tal and catholic motion of the sea,
193; grand diurnal motion not one
of elevation or depression, 194;
elevated all over the world at equi-
noxes, and at the new and full moon,
194; objections to the opinion that
the diurnal motion is a progressive
one, from the fact that in some places
wells have simultaneous motions with
the sea, and from the fact that waters
are raised and depressed simulta-
neously on the shore of Europe and
Florida, considered, 195, 196.

Sea, ebb and flow of, from what cause
it arises, 197.

Sea, whence arises the reciprocal ac-
tion of tides once in six hours, 204 ;
explanation of the difference of tides
connected with the moon’s motion,
205.

Scientific efforts, remarks on the com-
bination and succession of, 119.
Simulatione et dissimulatione, de, 260.
Small trivial things, the consideration
of, not below the dignity of the

human mind, 125.

Spirits of wine, concerning the mode

of expansion of matter in, 148.

Te

INDEX

Stars, old ones, not true that they are
not subject to change, 176.

Star, what is meant by the opinion
that it is the denser part of its own
sphere, 181.

Stars, question respecting the sub-
stance of, 182.

Stars, whether kept alive by sustenta-
tion, 187; whether increased or
lessened, generated, extinguished,
188 ; whether, during long lapses of
ages, stars are produced and decom-
posed, 185.

Stars, should be enquired whether
give light of themselves, or whether
received from the sun, 185.

Stars, whether that be the true number
of them which is visible, 190 ; what
are the real dimensions of each star,
190; what data there are for deter-
mining them, 190.

Stars, true distances of, for determin-
ing, if possible, if not comparative
should be ascertained, 191.

Statement, legitimate mode of, 223.

Sound and light, the agreements and
disagreements of the phenomena of,
231, 235, 240, 241, 242, 243, 244.

Sound, reasons for enquiring into the
theory of, 225.

Sound, of its generation and the first
percussion, 226; whether its form
is any local and perceptible motion
of the air, 226; three experiments
wherein sound is generated contra-
rily to the perceptible motion of the
air, 227; is generated by percus-
sions, 227 ; air required for its gene-
ration, 228; whether flame would
suffice instead of air, 228; lasting
of, and its perishing, 229 ; confusion
and perturbations of sounds, 230 ;
compared with light, why many
visibles seen at once do not confound
one another, and many sounds heard
at once do, 231.

Sound, of the variety of bodies yield-
ing it, instruments producing it,
species of sounds, 237; circum-
stances regulating the pitch in va-
rious sonorous bodies, 238; multi-
plication, majoration, diminution,
and fraction of, 238.

Sound, time in which its generation,
extinction, and transmission, are
effected, 243; less quickly trans-
mitted than light, 244; of its affi-
nity with the motion of the air in
which it is carried, 244.

Sound, aids and impediments of, stay
VOL, XV.

?

9

385

of, 232; diversity of mediums of,
PEPE

Sound and hearing, history and first
inquisition of, 225.

Sound, communion of the air percussed
with the ambient air and bodies, 246.

Sound, penetration of 232; whether
heard under water, 232; whether it
can be generated except there be air
between the percussing and _per-
cussed body, 233; carriage, direc-
tion, and spreading of the area it
fills, 234 ; compared with light, the
former may be conveyed in curved
lines, 235,

Summary of the opinions which this
theory affirms and denies, 4.

Sun, Venus, Mercury, and the Moon,
their relative situations doubted by
the ancients, 170.

Sun, phenomena in the year 790,
and after the death of Julius Cesar,
U7.

System, fourth question, the cohesion
of, or substance connecting it : three
modes of viewing this, 166.

System, whether there be different
centres around the, theories of Tycho
and Galileo, 171.

System may exist consistently with
opinions that the earth revolves and
that planets are solid, 163.

Tacitus, his works breathe more
living observation of manners than
those of Aristotle and Plato, 102.

Telesius, the philosophy of, exhibited
in the fable of Cupid, 44.

Time, its operation in promoting dis-
covery and invention, 36.

Time, masculine birth of, 223.

Thales, discussion of his theory that
water is the prime element, 52.

Theory of the motions of the heavenly
bodies, 5.

Theories and common notions to be
done away with, opinions, 41.

Theories, universal, the invention of, by
persons ignorant of particulars, 100.

Theories of Astronomers, the object of
the, 159.

Vacuum, whether it exists at all,
theory of, 167.
Venus and Mercury, a question which
is higher than the other, 170.
Venus, change of its colour in the
reizn of Ogyges, and in 1578, 177.
Viol and lute, use of the perforations
made in them, 246.
cc

386

Water, the theory of Thales that it is

the prime element discussed, 52.

Wind, a perennial east wind within

the tropics, 200.

INDEX.

Winds in Europe, east wind why sharp
and dry, and south west humid,
200.

ZENOPHANES, 26.

LATIN.

ABEUNT studia in mores, 362.

Actio quare supra nobiliores partes
oratoris extollitur, 274.

Adulator in quibus teipsum excellere
putas in herebit maxime, 366.

Adversis de rebus, 259.

Albertus Durerus nugatores, 345.

Ambitione de, 333.

Amore de, 270.

Amicitia de, 308.

Amicitia fructus tres-pax in affecti-
bus, 308 ; fulcrimentum judicii, 311 ;
auxilium in occasionibus vite, 313.

Arma et militia ex professo colenda,
320.

Arma capescendi causas in promptu
leges et consuetudines status alicu-
jus ministram debent, 320.

Astutia de, 299.

Atheismo de, 385.

Atheismi et superstitionis comparatio,
287.

Audacia de, 274.

Augustum Cesaream inter et Tiberium
discrimen, 260.

Auctoritate in utenda vitia, 273.

Aviaria non probata nisi ampla sint,
355.

BELLA moderna cum antiquis collata,
322.

Bellum civile instar est caloris fibrilis,
321 ; justum loco salubris exercita-
tionis est reipublice, 321.

Bonitate de et bonitate nativa, 276.

CALutpt1 literas contemnunt, simplices
admirantur prudentes utuntur, 361.

Cato, a Livio descriptus, 338.

Celeritas, ordo et distributio celeritatis

— tanquam vita est, 306.

Cezremoniis civilibus de, et decoro,
364.

Cogitare bene non melius quam bene
somniare nisi in actum producatur,
272.

Clientes sumptuosi, commencer, fac-
tiosi, gloriosi, 357.

Clientibus, famulis et amicis de, 357.
Colonie regimen committatur uni,
329.

Colonize salubritas consulenda, 329;
justitia, securitas, propagatio, 330.
Consilio de, 295 ; ejus commoda, 295 ;

incommoda, 296; quid consilia hac
etate sunt et quid esse debent, 298.
Consuetudo copulata et conjuncta et
in collegium exacte excellit, 337.
Consuetudine et educatione, 336.
Consiliis in capiendas et in eorum exe-
cutione quid faciendum, 275.
Corruptela in auctoritate utenda qui-
bus modis ea et ejus suspicio devi-
tandez sunt, 273.
Cultura soli, merees perpetuo impor-
tans, 331.

DeformiItatTeE, de, 345; inter corpus
et animam consensus, 345; defor-
mitus stimulum virtuti, 345; in
magnis ingeniis deformitas ascensum
in honores patefacit, 346.

Difficilioribus rebus non expectandum
ut quis simul serat et metat, 357.

Divitiis de, 330.

Divitie alas habent ne sis in minutis
tenax, 352.

Domus elegans in situ malo, carcer,
346.

EXcUsATIONES decore, ostentationis
artes, 368.

Edificiis de, ut habitemus non ut spec-
temus, 346.

Educatio, nihil aliud quam consue~
tudo, 337.

Expediendis, negotiis de, 305.

FActTIonibus de, 362.

Factionum motus sub regibus similes
esse debent orbium inferiorem, 363.

Fama fluvio similis est, 365.

Fame proci et veluti venatores, 368.

Felis et mus A‘sopi, 336.

Foenore in, dua proportiones, pro mer-
caturam et pro alios contractus, 341.

INDEX.

Fodinze fallaces sunt, 329.

Fontium duo generas, saliem, et recep-
taculum, 358.

Fortune de, 338 ; ‘‘ Fabei quisque for-
tune sux,” 338.

Fortuna prepropera turbulentos red-
dit exercitatu cordatos, 339.

Fundationes relict, ex alieno potius
quam e proprio, 333.

Goria, vana de, 367; musca A‘-
sopi, 367.

Gloria vana ad propagandum et per-
petuandum memoriam magnopere
juvat, 367.

Gloriosum esse, non inutili est mili-
taribus, 367.

Gratiosi, signa infirmi animi in prin-
cipibus, 334,

HIBeERNI rebellis supplicatio, 337.

Hominibus in, de natura et indole na-
turali, 335; occultatur, vincitur,
extinguitur, 335.

Honore et existimatione de, 368.

Honor tribus insignitur commodis, 334.

Hortis de, Deus ipse primus plantavit
hortum, 350.

Horti regales, pro singulis anni mensi-
bus, 350.

Horti regales, in tres partes dividi con-
venit, graminetum, fruticetum, hor-
tum precipium, 352,

IMPERATORES ambitiosi sint, 333.

Impedimenta virtutis, 330.

Imperii, finibus de proprendis, 315.

Imperii alicujus virum valorem exci-
pere res maxime errori obnoxia, 316.

Innovationibus de, 304.

Indoles naturalis, felix, cum vite sue
genere congruit, 336.

Intellectui impedimenta eurendari
quemadmodum morbi corporis, 362.

Interruptus orator prolixior fiat, 306.

Invidia de, 266; privata, 266; pub-
lica, 269.

JUVENES et senes comparantur, 343.

Juvenum et senum mixtura bonum in
negotiis, 343.

Juventute et senectute de, 343.

LAUDE de, 365 ;
365.
Libri legendi sunt, quo animo? 361.

laus virtutis reflexio,

MAGISTRATIBUS et dignitatibus de,
271.
Maris dominuin quantum valet, 322.

387

Mathematicorum et scolasticorum stu-
dia medicine sunt, 362.

Mechanice artes animis militaribus
contrariz, 319.

Mora de, 299.

Morte de, 253.

Multum incola fuit anima mea, 336.

NaTuRA potens vincitur per gradus,
335 ; subito vindicare optimum, 335.

Negotiatio omnis eo spectat, aut ut
detegat aliquid, aut ut efficiat, 357.

Negotiatione de, 356; melius nego-
tiari per verbas quam per literas,
per intercessionem quam per seip-
sum, 356.

Negotiorum tres partes, 306.

Negotiis de expediendis,. 305.

Nobilium in Anglia famulitia ampla
ad potentiam militarem conducit,
318.

Nobiles non nimis multiplicandi, 317.

Nobilitate de, 278.

Nuptiis et coelibater de, 264.

Opor florum in ere gratior quam in
manu, 351.

Ornamenta rationalia, 213.

Opportunitas ante omnia in petitioni-
bus valent, 360.

Opportunitatas plures faciet, quam in-
veniet prudens, 365.

Oaracelsus, 95.

Oratoris quare actio supra nobiliores
partes extollitur, 274.

Ordo et distributio, celeritatis vita,
306.

“ PADRE commune,” vox suspiciosa,
363.

Palatium regium, descriptio, 347.

Parmenis, 26.

Parentibus et liberis, de, 263

Petitionum concinnatores generales
perniciosum hominum genus, 360.

Plantatio regionum similis plantationi
sylvarum populus, qui in coloniam
sumatur, 328 ; genus esculentorum,
328 ; pecudes et aves, 328 ; merces
native, 328.

Plantationibus populorum et coloniis,
de, 327,

Plebs ex tribus generibus, constare
debet, 320.

Plutus a Jove aut a Plutone missus,
331.

** Poco di matto,” quod habeat, Itali
notant, 338.

Proditor in factionibus pleruinque rem
obtinet, 363.

‘ae

388

Professionibus lucra ex, 331.

Prudentia que sibi sapit de, 303.

Prudentia apparente de, 306.

Pulchritudine de, 344.

Pulchritudinis portio precipua, quam
pictura representare non potest,
Apelles et, 345.

Ramvus, Pierre, 95.
Receptores petitionum diversi, 359.
~ Repetitiones, quando jucturaet quando
lucrum temporis, 306.

SACCHARI excoctor primus in Canariis,
322.

Seditionibus et turbis, de, 279.

Seditionum prognostica, 279; mate-
ria, 281; cause, 282; remediz
contra, eos, 282. .
Severinus Petrus, 97.
“« Sbirrarias,’ munera lectorum et
‘scribarum verbum usurpant: cardi-
‘nales Romani, 366.
Solitudine, de, 306.
Spectatores plus vident quam Lusores,
358.

Studiis, de, et lectione librorum, 360 ;
aut voluptas, aut ornamentum, aut
subsidium, 360.

Sumptibus, de, 314.

Supplicantibus, de, 359.

Superstitio nostris temporibus con-

suetudinis vires exequant, 336.

INDEX.

Superstitione, de, 287.
Superstitionis et atheismi comparatio,
287.

TIBERIUM inter, et Augustus Cesarem
discrimen, 260.

Timothei Clausula, ‘‘ Atque in hoc
nulle evant fortune partes,” 339.

Turbis, et seditionibus, de, 279.

Usura sive foenore, de, 339; invec-
tive in foeneratores, 339 ; foenoris
incommoda et commoda, 340 ; res-
public omnes usures tolerarunt,
341.

VALETUDINIS, de regimine, 323.

Veritate, de, 251 ; philosophica, 251 ,
thelogica, 252 ; in civilibus negotiis,
252.

Vindicta de, 258.

Virtutes quedam occulte pariunt for-
tunam, 338.

Virtutum exiguarum perpetua usus,
364.

Virtus optima sine ornamentis, 344.

Viri perpulebri et magni, 344.

Vulgi sub captum virtutes, complures
excellentes non cadunt, 365.

Vultus pellucidi pluribus quibus corda
sunt obscura, 300.

Vultus et gestus, non nullorum instar
versus, 364.

END OF THE FIFTEENTH VOLUME.

ad

C. W hittingham, Tooks Court, Chancery Lane.

RAL DANS een lh AIOE le aaa ts teh eR od noni: aren

PEE ee TT

Acme Library Card Pocket
LOWE-MARTIN CoO, LIMITED

YSMONNOE YO AWYN

: “ST *TO4
“Ts2 YUP T8@g Aq *pa "SHLOy
SteqTy °4¢ FULOOST A ‘sTouery
STSTTT

SST
Sele
SoTtug

Sana, $ z, .