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EELIGIO    MEDICI. 


RELIGIO    MEDICI, 

UYDRIOTAPHIA,  AND  THE  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

BY 

Sir  THOMAS  BROWNE,  Kxt. 

WITH    AX    INTRODUCTION   AND   NOTES   I5Y 
.1.  W.  WILLIS  BUND,  M.A.,  LL.B., 

VMSSWJJL  AND  CAIlfi  CULLEGE,   CAMBRIOGR, 
4»F  L1!!00IJ*'*S  INN,    BARIUHTKK-AT-LAW. 


LONDON: 
SAMPSON  UJW,  SON,  AND  JIAUSTON, 

•  •ROWS  Rl' 1 1,1)1  NOB,  188  VX.V.Kl  HTUKKT. 

\9m. 


INTRODUCTION. 

|IR  THOMAS  BROWNE  (whose  works  occupy 
so  prominent  a  position  in  the  literary  his- 
tory of  the  seventeenth  century)  is  an  author 
who  is  now  little  known  and  less  read.  This  com- 
parative oblivion  to  which  he  has  been  consigned  is 
the  more  remarkable,  as,  if  for  nothing  else,  his 
writings  deserve  to  be  studied  as  an  example  of  the 
English  language  in  what  may  be  termed  a  transition 
state.  The  prose  of  the  Elizabethan  age  was  begin- 
ning to  pass  away  and  give  place  to  a  more  inflated 
style  of  writing, — a  style  which,  after  passing  through 
various  stages  of  development,  culminated  in  that  of 
Johnson. 

Browne  is  one  of  the  best  early  examples  of  this 
Bcbool;  his  style,  to  quote  Johnson  himself,  "is 
vigorous  but  rugged,  it  is  learned  but  pedantick,  it 
i.H  deep  but  obscure,  it  strikes  but  does  not  please,  it 
commands  but  does  not  allure.     .    .    .    Tt  is  a  tiasuo 


iv  INTRODUCTION. 

of  many  languages,  a  mixture  of  heterogeneous  words 
brought  together  from  distant  regions." 

Yet  in  spite  of  this  qualified  censure,  there  are 
passages  in  Browne's  works  not  inferior  to  any  in 
the  English  language ;  and  though  his  writings  may 
not  be  "  a  well  of  English  undefiled,"  yet  it  is  the 
very  defilements  that  add  to  the  beauty  of  the  work. 

But  it  is  not  only  as  an  example  of  literary  style 
that  Browne  deserves  to  be  studied.  The  matter  of 
his  works,  the  grandeur  of  his  ideas,  the  originality 
of  his  thoughts,  the  greatness  of  his  charity,  amply 
make  up  for  the  deficiencies  (if  deficiencies  there  be) 
in  his  style.  An  author  who  combined  the  wit  of 
Montaigne  with  the  learning  of  Erasmus,  and  of 
whom  even  Hallam  could  say  that  "  his  varied  talents 
wanted  nothing  but  the  controlling  supremacy  of  good 
sense  to  place  him  in  the  highest  rank  of  our  litera- 
ture," should  not  be  suffered  to  remain  in  obscurity. 

A  short  account  of  his  life  will  form  the  best 
introduction  to  his  works. 

Sir  Thomas  Browne  was  born  in  London,  in  the 
parish  of  St  Michael  le  Quern,  on  the  19th  of  October 
1 605.  His  father  was  a  London  merchant,  of  a  good 
Cheshire  family;  and  his  mother  a  Sussex  lady, 
daughter  of  Mr  Paul  Garraway  of  Lewis.  His 
father  died  when  he  was  very  young,  and  his  mother 
marrying  again  shortly  afterwards,  Browne  was  left 
to  the  care  of  his  guardians,  one  of  whom  is  said  to 


INTRODUCTION.  v 

have  defrauded  him  out  of  some  of  his  property,  lie 
was  educated  at  Winchester,  and  afterwards  sent  to 
Oxford,  to  what  is  now  Pembroke  College,  where  he 
took  his  degree  of  M.A.  in  1629.  Thereupon  he 
commenced  for  a  short  time  to  practise  as  a  physician 
in  Oxfordshire.  But  we  soon  find  Hm  growing  tired 
of  this,  and  accompanying  Ms  father-in-law,  Sir 
Thomas  Button,  on  a  tour  of  inspection  of  the  castles 
and  forts  in  Ireland.  We  next  hear  of  Browne  in 
the  south  of  France,  at  Moutpeliier,  then  a  celebrated 
school  of  medicine,  where  he  seems  to  have  studied 
some  little  time.  From  there  he  proceeded  to  Padua, 
one  of  the  most  famous  of  the  Italian  universities, 
and  noted  for  the  views  some  of  its  members 
held  on  the  subjects  of  astronomy  and  necromancy. 
During  his  residence  here,  Browne  doubtless  acquired 
some  of  his  peculiar  ideas  on  the  science  of  the 
heavens  and  the  black  art,  and,  what  was  more  im- 
portant, he  learnt  to  regard  the  Romanists  with  that 
abundant  charity  we  find  throughout  his  works. 
From  Padua,  BrovsTie  went  to  Leyden,  and  this  sud- 
den change  from  a  most  bigoted  Roman  Catholic  to 
a  most  bigoted  Protestant  country  was  not  without 
its  effect  on  his  mind,  as  can  be  traced  in  his  book. 
Uere  he  took  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Medicine,  and 
shortly  afterwards  returned  to  England.  Soon  after 
his  return,  about  the  year  1G35,  he  published  his 
"  Religio  Medici,"  his  first  and  greatest  work,  wliioh 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

may  be  fairly  regarded  as  the  reflection  of  the  miDd 
of  one  wlio,  in  spite  of  a  strong  intellect  and  vast 
erudition,  was  still  prone  to  superstition,  but  having 

"  Through  many  cities  strayed, 
Their  customs,  laws,  and  manners  weighed," 

had  obtained  too  large  views  of  mankind  to  become 
a  bigot. 

After  the  publication  of  his  book  he  settled  at 
Norwich,  where  he  soon  had  an  extensive  practice 
as  a  physician.  From  hence  there  remains  little  to 
be  told  of  his  life.  In  1637  he  was  incorporated 
Doctor  of  Medicine  at  Oxford;  and  in  1641  he 
married  Dorothy  the  daughter  of  Edward  Mileham, 
of  Burlingham  in  Norfolk,  and  had  by  her  a  family 
of  eleven  children. 

In  1646  he  published  his  "  Pseudodoxia  Epi- 
demica,"  or  Enquiries  into  Vulgar  Errors.  The  dis- 
covery of  some  Roman  urns  at  Burnham  in  Nor- 
folk, led  him  in  1658  to  write  his  "  Hydriotaphia" 
(Urn-burial);  he  also  published  at  the  same  time 
"  The  Garden  of  Cyrus,  or  the  Quincunxcial  Lozenge 
of  the  Ancients,"  a  curious  work,  but  far  inferior  to 
his  other  productions. 

In  1665  he  was  elected  an  honorary  Fellow  of 
the  CoUege  of  Physicians,  "  virtute  et  literis  orna- 
tissimus." 

Browne  had  always  been  a  Royalist.     In  1 643  he 


INTRODUCTION.  vii 

had  refused  to  subscribe  to  the  fund  that  was  then 
being  raised  for  regaining  Newcastle.  He  proved  a 
happy  exception  to  the  almost  proverbial  neglect  the 
Koyalists  received  from  Charles  II.  in  1671,  for  when 
Charles  was  at  Newmarket,  he  came  over  to  see  Nor- 
wich, and  conferred  the  honour  of  knighthood  on 
Browne.  His  reputation  was  now  very  great,  Evelyn 
paid  a  visit  to  Norwich  for  the  express  purpose  of 
seeing  him ;  and  at  length,  on  his  7Gth  birthday 
{19th  October  1G82),  he  died,  full  of  years  and 
honours. 

It  was  a  striking  coincidence  that  he  who  in  his 
Letter  to  a  Friend  had  said  that  "  in  persons  who  out- 
live many  years,  and  when  there  are  no  less  than 
365  days  to  determine  their  lives  in  every  year,  that 
the  first  day  should  mark  the  last,  that  the  tail 
of  the  snake  should  return  into  its  mouth  precisely 
at  that  time,  and  that  they  should  wind  up  upon  the 
tlay  of  their  nativity,  is  indeed  a  remarkable  coin- 
cidence, which,  though  astrology  hath  taken  witty 
jjains  to  solve,  yet  hath  it  been  very  wary  in  making 
predictions  of  it,"  should  himself  die  on  the  day  of 
his  birth. 

Browne  was  buried  in  the  church  of  St  Peter, 
Mancroft,  Norwich,  where  his  wife  erected  to  his 
memory  a  mural  monument,  on  which  was  placed 
an  English  and  Latin  in.scription,  setting  forth  that 
he  waathe  author  of  "Rcligio  Medici,"  "Pseudodoxia 


viii  INTRODUCTION. 

Epidemica,"  and  other  learned  works  "  per  orbem 
notissimus. "  .  Yet  his  sleep  was  not  to  be  undisturbed ; 
his  skull  was  fated  to  adorn  a  museum  !  In  1840, 
while  some  workmen  were  digging  a  vault  in  the 
chancel  of  St  Peter's,  they  found  a  coffin  with  an 

inscription — 

"  Amplissimus  Vir 
U"^  Thomas  Browne  Miles  Medicinse 
D"^  Annis  Natus  77  Denatus  19  Die 

Mensis  Octobris  Anno  D°J  1682  hoc. 
Loculo  indormiena  Corporis  Spagy- 
rici  pulvere  plumbum  in  aurum 
convertit." 

The  translation  of  this  inscription  raised  a  storm 
over  his  ashes,  which  Browne  would  have  enjoyed 
partaking  in,  the  word  spagyricus  being  an  enigma 
to  scholars.  Mr  Firth  of  Norwich  (whose  translation 
seems  the  best)  thus  renders  the  inscription  : — 

"  The  very  distinguished  man,  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  Knight, 
Doctor  of  Medicine,  aged  77  years,  who  died  on  the  19th  of 
October,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1682,  sleeping  in  this  coffin 
of  lead,  by  the  dust  of  his  alchemic  body,  transmutes  it  into 
a  coffer  of  gold. 

After  Sir  Thomas's  death,  two  collections  of  his 
works  were  published,  one  by  Archbishop  Tenison, 
and  the  other  in  1772.  They  contain  most  of  his 
letters,  his  tracts  on  various  subjects,  and  his  Letter 
to  a  Friend.  Various  editions  of  parts  of  Browne's 
works  have  from  time  to  time  appeared.     By  far  the 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

best  edition  of  the  whole  of  them  is  that  published 
by  Simon  Wilkin. 

It  is  upon  his  "  Eeligio  Medici " — the  religion  of  a 
physician — that  Browne's  fame  chiefly  rests.  It  was 
his  first  and  most  celebrated  work,  jjublished  just  after 
his  return  from  his  travels  ;  it  gives  us  the  impres- 
sions made  on  his  mind  by  the  various  and  opposite 
schools  he  had  passed  through.  He  tells  us  that  he 
never  intended  to  publish  it,  but  that  on  its  being 
surreptitiously  printed,  he  was  induced  to  do  so. 
In  1G4:3,  the  first  genuine  edition  appeared,  with 
"  an  admonition  to  such  as  shall  peruse  the 
observations  upon  a  former  corrupt  copy  of  this 
book."  The  observations  here  alluded  to,  were 
written  by  Sir  Kenelm  Digby,  and  sent  by  him  to 
the  Earl  of  Dorset.  They  were  first  printed  at  the 
end  of  the  edition  of  1G43,  and  have  ever  since  been 
published  with  the  book.  Their  chief  merit  consists 
in  the  marvellous  rapidity  with  which  they  were 
written.  Sir  Kenelm  having,  as  he  tells  us,  bought 
the  book,  read  it,  and  written  his  observations,  in 
the  course  of  twenty-four  hours  ! 

The  book  contains  what  may  be  termed  an 
apology  for  his  belief.  He  states  the  reasons  on 
which  he  grounds  his  opinions,  and  endeavours  to 
show  that,  although  he  had  been  accused  of  atlieism, 
he  was  in  all  points  a  good  Cliristiaii,  and  a  loyal 
member  of  the   Church   of  England.     Each  pci'Hoii 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

must  judge  for  himself  of  Ms  success  ;  but  the  effect 
it  produced  on  the  mind  of  Johnson  may  be 
noticed.  "  The  opinions  of  every  man,"  says  he, 
"  must  be  learned  from  himself ;  concerning  his 
practice,  it  is  safer  to  trust  to  the  evidence  of  others. 
When  the  testimonies  concur,  no  higher  degree  of 
historical  certainty  can  be  obtained ;  and  they 
apparently  concur  to  prove  that  Browne  was  a 
zealous  adherent  to  the  faith  of  Christ,  that  he 
lived  in  obedience  to  His  laws,  and  died  in  con- 
fidence of  His  mercy." 

The  best  proof  of  the  excellence  of  the  "  Religio  " 
is  to  be  found  in  its  great  success.  During  the 
author's  life,  from  1643  to  1681,  it  passed  through 
eleven  editions.  It  has  been  translated  into  Latin, 
Dutch,  French,  and  German,  and  many  of  the 
translations  have  passed  through  several  editions. 
No  less  than  thirty-three  treatises  have  been  written 
in  imitation  of  it ;  and  what,  to  some,  will  be  the 
greatest  proof  of  all,  it  was  soon  after  its  publication 
placed  in  the  Index  Expurgatorius.  The  best  proof 
of  its  liberality  of  sentiment  is  in  the  fact  that  its 
author  was  claimed  at  the  same  time  by  the  Romanists 
and  Quakers  to  be  a  member  of  their  respective 
creeds ! 

The  "  Hydriotaphia,"  or  Urn-burial,  is  a  treatise 
on  the  funeral  rites  of  ancient  nations.  It  was 
caused  by  the  discovery  of  some  Roman  urns  in 


INTRODUCTIOX.  xi 

Norfolk.  Though  inferior  to  the  "  Religio,"  "  there  is 
perhaps  none  of  his  works  which  better  exemplifies 
his  reading  or  memory." 

The  text  of  the  present  edition  of  the  "Religio 
Medici"  is  taken  from   what   is  called   the  eiirhth 

O 

edition,  but  is  in  reality  the  eleventh,  published  in 
London  in  1682,  the  last  edition  in  the  author's  life- 
time. The  notes  are  for  the  most  part  compiled 
from  the  observations  of  Sir  Kenelm  Digby,  the 
annotation  of  Mr  Keck,  and  the  very  valuable  notes 
of  Simon  Wilkin.  For  the  account  of  the  tindinjr 
of  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  skull  I  am  indebted  to  Mr 
Friswell's  notice  of  Sir  Thomas  in  his  "  Varia." 
The  text  of  the  "  Hydriotaphia  "  is  taken  from  the 
folio  edition  of  1686,  in  the  Lincoln's  Lui 
library.  Some  of  Browne's  notes  to  that  edition 
have  been  omitted,  and  most  of  the  references,  as 
they  refer  to  books  which  are  not  likely  to  be  met 
with  by  the  general  reader. 

The  "  Letter  to  a  Friend,  upon  the  occasion  of  the 
Death  of  his  intimate  Friend,"  was  first  published  in 
a  folio  pamphlet  in  1090.  It  was  reprinted  in  his 
posthumous  works.  The  concluding  reflexions  are 
the  basis  of  a  larger  work,  "  Christian  Morals."  I 
am  not  aware  of  any  complete  modern  edition  of  it. 
The  text  of  the  present  one  is  taken  from  the 
original  edition  of  1690.  The  pamphlet  is  in  the 
I'ritish   Museum,   bound  up  with  a  volume  of  old 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

poems.  It  is  entitled,  "  A  Letter  to  a  Friend,  upon 
the  occasion  of  the  Death  of  his  intimate  Friend. 
By  the  learned  Sir  Thomas  Brown,  Knight,  Doctor 
of  Physick,  late  of  Norwich.  London  :  Printed  for 
Charles  Brone,  at  the  Gun,  at  the  West  End  of  St 
Paul's  Churchyard,  1690." 


TO   THE   READER. 

ERTAINLY  that  man  were  greedy  of  life,  who 
nhoidd  desire  to  live  when  all  the  world  were 
at  an  end  ;  and  he  must  needs  be  very  im- 
patient, who  would  repine  at  death  in  the  society  of  all 
things  that  suirur  under  it.  Had  not  abnost  every  man 
suffered  by  the  press,  or  were  not  the  tyranny  thereof 
become  miiversal,  I  had  not  wanted  reason  for  com- 
plaint :  but  in  times  wlierein  I  have  lived  to  behold 
the  highest  perversion  of  that  excellent  invention,  the 
name  of  his  Majesty  defamed,  the  honour  of  Parlia- 
ment depraved,  the  Avritings  of  both  depravedly,  antici- 
patively,  counterfcitly,  imprinted  :  complaints  may 
seem  ridiculous  in  private  persons  ;  and  men  of  my 
c^jndition  may  be  as  incapable  of  affronts,  as  hopeless 
of  their  reparations.  And  truly  had  not  the  duty  I 
owe  unto  tiie  importunity  of  friends,  and  the  allegiance 
I  must  ever  acknowledge  unto  truth,  jircvailcd  with 
me  ;  the  inactivity  of  my  disposition  niiglit  have  made 
these  HulFeringH  continual,  ami  time,  tliat  l>rings  otlier 
things  to  light,  should  have  satisfied  me  in  the  remedy 

A. 


2  TO  THE  READER. 

of  its  oblivion.  But  because  things  evidently  false  are 
not  only  printed,  but  many  things  of  truth  most  falsely 
set  forth ;  in  this  latter  I  could  not  but  think  myself 
engaged  :  for,  though  we  have  no  power  to  redress  the 
former,  yet  in  the  other  reparation  being  within  our- 
selves, I  have  at  present  represented  unto  the  world  a 
full  and  intended  copy  of  that  piece,  which  was  most 
imperfectly  and  surreptitiously  published  before. 

This  I  confess,  about  seven  years  past,  with  some 
others  of  afl&nity  thereto,  for  my  private  exerqise  and 
satisfaction,  I  had  at  leisurable  hours  composed;  which 
being  communicated  unto  one,  it  became  common  unto 
many,  and  was  by  transcription  successively  corrupted, 
until  it  arrived  in  a  most  depraved  copy  at  the  press. 
He  that  shall  peruse  that  work,  and  shall  take  notice 
of  sundry  particulars  and  personal  expressions  therein, 
wiU.  easily  discern  the  intention  was  not  publick  :  and, 
being  a  private  exercise  directed  to  myself,  what  is  de- 
livered therein  was  rather  a  memorial  unto  me,  than  an 
example  or  rule  unto  any  other :  and  therefore,  if  there 
be  any  singularity  therein  correspondent  unto  the  pri- 
vate conceptions  of  any  man,  it  doth  not  advantage 
them ;  or  if  dissentaneous  thereunto,  it  no  way  over- 
throws them.  It  was  penned  in  such  a  place,  and  with 
such  disadvantage,  that  (I  protest),  from  the  first  setting 
of  pen  unto  paper,  I  had  not  the  assistance  of  any  good 
book,  whereby  to  promote  my  invention,  or  relieve  my 
memory ;  and  therefore  there  might  be  many  real  lapses 
therein,  which  others  might  take  notice  of,  and  more 
that  I  suspected  myself.  It  was  set  down  many  years 
past,  and  was  the  sense  of  my  conceptions  at  that  time, 
'  not  an  immutable  law  unto  my  advancing  judgment  at 
all  times;  and  therefore  there  might  be  many  things 
therein  plausible  unto  my  passed  apprehension,  which 


TO  THE  READER.  3 

are  not  agreeable  unto  my  present  self.  There  are  many 
things  delivered  rhetorically,  many  expressions  therein 
merely  tropical,  and  as  they  best  illustrate  my  inten- 
tion; and  therefore  also  there  are  many  things  to  be 
taken  in  a  soft  and  flexible  sense,  and  not  to  be  called 
imto  the  rigid  test  of  reason.  Lastly,  all  that  is  con- 
tained therein  is  in  submission  unto  maturer  discern- 
ments ;  and,  as  I  have  declared,  shall  no  farther  father 
them  than  the  best  and  learned  judgments  shaD  au- 
thorize them  :  under  favour  of  which  considerations,  I 
have  made  its  secrecy  publick,  and  conmiitted  the  truth 
thereof  to  every  ingenuous  reader. 

Thomas  Browne. 


^^^3 

i 

i 

-y:^?^ 

1 

RELIGIO  MEDICI. 


|ECT.  1. — For  my  religion,  though  there  he  several 
circumstances  that  might  persuade  the  world  1 
liave  none  at  all, — as  the  general  scandal  of  my 
profession,* — the  natural  course  of  my  studies, — the  in- 
differency  of  my  behaviour  and  discourse  in  matters  of 
religion  (neither  violently  defending  one,  nor  with  that 
common  ardour  and  contention  opposing  another), — 
yet,  in  despite  hereof,  I  dare  without  usurpation  assume 
the  honourable  style  of  a  Christian.  Not  that  I  merely 
owe  this  title  to  the  font,  my  education,  or  the  clime 
wherein  I  waa  bom,  as  being  bred  up  either  to  confirm 
those  principles  my  parents  instilled  into  my  imder- 
standing,  or  by  a  general  consent  proceed  in  the  religion 
of  my  country  ;  but  having,  in  my  riper  years  and  con- 
finned  judgment,  seen  and  examined  all,  I  find  myself 
obliged,  by  the  principles  of  grace,  and  tlie  law  of  mine 
own  rea-son,  to  embrace  no  other  name  but  this.  Neither 
doth  herein  my  zeal  so  far  make  me  forget  the  general 
charity  I  owe  unto  humanity,  as  rather  to  hate  than 
|iity  TurkH,  Infidels,  and  (what  is  worse)  Jews  ;  rather 


6  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

contenting  myself  to  enjoy  that  happy  style,  than 
maligning  those  who  refuse  so  glorious  a  title. 

Bed.  2. — But,  because  the  name  of  a  Christian  is  be- 
come too  general  to  express  our  faith, — there  being  a 
geography  of  religion  as  well  as  lands,  and  every  clime 
distinguished  not  only  by  their  laws  and  limits,  but 
circumscribed  by  their  doctrines  and  rules  of  faith, — to 
be  particular,  I  am  of  that  reformed  new-cast  religion, 
wherein  I  dislike  nothing  but  the  name  ;  of  the  same 
belief  our  Saviour  taught,  the  apostles  disseminated, 
the  fathers  authorized,  and  the  martyrs  confirmed  ;  but, 
by  the  sinister  ends  of  princes,  the  ambition  and  avarice 
of  prelates,  and  the  fatal  corruption  of  times,  so  decayed, 
impaired,  and  fallen  from  its  native  beauty,  that  it  re- 
quired the  careful  and  charitable  hands  of  these  times 
to  restore  it  to  its  primitive  integrity.  Now,  the  acci- 
dental occasion  whereupon,  the  slender  means  whereby, 
the  low  and  abject  condition  of  the  person  by  whom, 
so  good  a  work  was  set  on  foot,  which  in  our  adver- 
saries beget  contempt  and  scorn,  fills  me  ■with  wonder, 
and  is  the  very  same  objection  the  insolent  pagans  first 
cast  at  Christ  and  his  disciples. 

/S'eci.  3. — Yet  have  I  not  so  shaken  hands  with  those 
desperate  resolutions  who  had  rather  venture  at  large 
their  decayed  bottom,  than  bring  her  in  to  be  new- 
trimmed  in  the  dock, — who  had  rather  promiscuously 
retain  all,  than  abridge  any,  and  obstinately  be  what 
chey  are,  than  what  they  have  been, — as  to  stand  in 
diameter  and  sword's  point  with  them.  We  have  re- 
formed from  them,  not  against  them  :  for,  omitting 
those  improperations  ^  and  terms  of  scurrility  betwixt 
us,  which  only  difi'erence  our  affections,  and  not  our 
cause,  there  is  between  us  one  common  name  and  ap- 
pellation, one  faith  and  necessary  body  of  principles 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  7 

c<)mmon  to  us  both  ;  and  therefore  I  am  not  scrupulous 
to  converse  and  live  with  them,  to  enter  their  churches 
in  defect  of  ours,  and  either  pray  with  them  or  for  them. 
I  could  never  perceive  any  rational  consequence  from 
those  many  texts  which  prohibit  the  children  of  Israel 
to  pollute  themselves  with  the  temples  of  the  heathens  ; 
we  being  all  Christians,  and  not  divided  by  such  de- 
tested impieties  as  might  profane  our  prayere,  or  the 
place  wherein  we  make  them  ;  or  that  a  resolved  con- 
science may  not  adore  her  Creator  anywhere,  especially 
in  places  devoted  to  his  service  ;  if  their  devotions 
otfend  him,  mine  may  please  him  :  if  theirs  profane  it, 
mine  may  hallow  it  Holy  water  and  crucifix  (danger- 
ous to  the  common  people)  deceive  not  my  judgment, 
nor  abuse  my  devotion  at  alL  I  am,  I  confess,  natur- 
ally inclined  to  that  which  misguided  zeal  terms  super- 
stition :  my  common  conversation  I  do  acknowledge 
austere,  my  behaviour  full  of  rigour,  sometimes  not 
without  morosity ;  yet,  at  my  devotion  I  love  to  use 
the  civility  of  my  knee,  my  hat,  and  hand,  with  all 
those  outward  and  sensible  motions  which  may  express 
or  promote  my  invisible  devotion,  I  should  violate  my 
own  arm  rather  than  a  church  ;  nor  willingly  deface 
the  name  of  saint  or  martyr.  At  the  sight  of  a  cross,  or 
crucifix,  I  can  dispense  with  my  hat,  but  scarce  with 
the  thought  or  memory  of  my  Saviour.  I  cannot  laugh 
at,  but  rather  pity,  the  fruitless  journeys  of  pilgrims, 
or  contemn  the  miserable  condition  of  friars ;  for,  though 
misplaced  in  circumstances,  there  is  something  in  it  of 
devotion.      I  could  never  hear  the   Ave-Maiy  bell* 

•  A  church-bell,  that  tolls  every  day  at  six  and  twelve  of 
the  clock  ;  at  the  hearing  wliercof  every  one,  in  wliat  phiro 
KMTcr,  cithiTof  houHo  or  Btrcct,  hctnkcs  himuelf  to  hb  {niiyur, 
which  U  commonly  directed  to  the  Vir(pn. 


8  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

Avithout  an  elevation,  or  tliink  it  a  sufficient  warrant, 
because  they  erred  in  one  circumstance,  for  me  to  err 
in  all, — that  is,  in  silence  and  dumb  contempt.  Whilst, 
therefore,  they  direct  their  devotions  to  her,  I  offered 
mine  to  God  ;  and  rectify  the  errors  of  their  prayers  by 
rightly  ordering  mine  own.  At  a  solemn  procession  I 
have  wept  abundantly,  while  my  consorts,  blind  with 
opposition  and  prejudice,  have  fallen  into  an  excess  of 
scorn  and  laughter.  There  are,  questionless,  both  in 
Greek,  Eoman,  and  African  churches,  solemnities  and 
ceremonies,  whereof  the  wiser  zeals  do  make  a  Chris- 
tian use  ;  and  stand  condemned  by  us,  not  as  evil  in 
themselves,  but  as  allurements  and  baits  of  superstition 
to  those  vulgar  heads  that  look  asquint  on  the  face  of^ 
truth,  and  those  unstable  judgments  that  cannot  resist 
in  the  narrow  point  and  centre  of  virtue  without  a  reel 
or  stagger  to  the  circumference. 

Sect.  4. — As  there  were  many  reformers,  so  likewise 
many  reformations  ;  every  country  proceeding  in  a  par- 
ticular way  and  method,  according  as  their  national 
interest,  together  with  their  constitution  and  clime,  in- 
clined them  :  some  angrily  and  with  extremity  ;  others 
calmly  and  with  mediocrity,  not. rending,  but  easily 
dividing,  the  community,  and  leaving  an  honest  possi- 
bility of  a  reconciliation ; — which,  though  peaceable 
spirits  do  desire,  and  may  conceive  that  revolution  of 
time  and  the  mercies  of  God  may  eiTect,  yet  that  judg- 
ment that  shall  consider  the  present  antipathies  between 
the  two  extremes, — their  contrarieties  in  condition, 
affection,  and  opinion, — may,  with  the  same  hopes, 
expect  a  union  in  the  poles  of  heaven. 

&e,d.  5. — But,  to  difference  myself  nearer,  and  draw 
into  a  lesser  circle ;  there  is  no  church  whose  every  part 
so  squares  unto  my  conscience,  whose  articles,  constitii- 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  9 

tions,  and  customs,  seem  so  consonant  unto  reason,  and, 
as  it  were,  framed  to  my  particular  devotion,  as  tliis 
whereof  I  hold  my  belief — the  Church  of  England  ;  to 
whose  faith  I  am  a  sworn  subject,  and  therefore,  in  a 
double  obligation,  subscribe  unto  her  articles,  and  en- 
deavour to  observe  her  constitutions  :  whatsoever  is 
beyond,  as  points  indifferent,  I  observe,  according  to  the 
rules  of  my  private  reason,  or  the  humour  and  fashion 
of  my  devotion  ;  neither  believing  this  because  Luther 
aifirmed  it,  nor  disproving  that  because  Calvin  hath  dis- 
avouched  it  I  condemn  not  all  things  in  tlie  council 
of  Trent,  nor  approve  all  in  the  s}Tiod  of  Dort.3  In 
brief,  where  the  Scripture  is  silent,  the  church  is  my 
text  ;  where  that  speaks,  'tis  but  my  comment ;  <  where 
there  is  a  joint  silence  of  both,  I  borrow  not  the  rules  of 
my  religion  from  Rome  or  Geneva,  but  from  the  dictates 
of  my  own  reason.  It  is  an  unjust  scandal  of  our  ad- 
versaries, and  a  gross  error  in  ourselves,  to  compute  the 
nativity  of  our  religion  from  Henry  the  Eighth  ;  who, 
though  he  rejected  the  Pope,  refused  not  the  faith  of 
Rome,*  and  effected  no  more  than  what  his  o^vn  pre- 
decessors desired  and  essayed  in  ages  past,  and  it  was 
conceived  the  state  of  Venice  would  have  attempted  in 
our  days.*  It  is  as  uncliaiitable  a  point  in  us  to  faU 
upon  those  popular  scurrilities  and  opprobrious  scoffs  of 
the  Bishop  of  Rome,  to  whom,  as  a  temporal  prince,  we 
owe  the  duty  of  good  language.  I  confess  there  is  a 
cause  of  pa.ssion  between  us  :  by  his  sentence  I  stand 
excommunicated  ;  heretic  is  the  best  language  he  affords 
me  :  yet  can  no  ear  witness  I  ever  returned  to  him  the 
name  of  antichrist,  man  of  sin,  or  wliore  of  Babylon. 
It  is  tlie  nu-thod  of  charity  to  sufFer  without  reaction  : 
those  usual  satin-s  and  invectives  of  the  pulpit  may  per- 
chance produce  a  good  effect  on  the  vulgar,  whose  ears 


lo  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

are  opener  to  rhetoric  than  logic  ;  yet  do  tliey,  in  no 
wise,  confirm  the  faith  of  wiser  believers,  who  know 
that  a  good  cause  needs  not  be  pardoned  by  passion, 
but  can  sustain  itself  upon  a  temperate  dispute. 

Sect.  6. — I  could  never  divide  myself  from  any  man 
upon  the  difference  of  an  opinion,  or  be  angry  with  his 
judgment  for  not  agreeing  with  me  in  that  from  which, 
perhaps,  within  a  few  days,  I  should  dissent  myself.  I 
have  no  genius  to  disputes  in  religion  :  and  have  often 
thought  it  wisdom  to  decline  them,  especially  upon  a 
disadvantage,  or  when  the  cause  of  truth  might  suffer 
in  the  weakness  of  my  patronage.  Where  we  desire  to 
be  informed,  'tis  good  to  contest  with  men  above  our- 
selves ;  but,  to  confirm  and  establish  our  opinions,  'tia 
best  to  argue  with  judgments  below  our  own,  that  the 
frequent  spoils  and  victories  over  their  reasons  may 
settle  in  ourselves  an  esteem  and  confirmed  opinion  of 
our  own.  Every  man  is  not  a  proper  champion  for 
truth,  nor  fit  to  take  up  the  gauntlet  in  the  cause  of 
verity  ;  many,  from  the  ignorance  of  these  maxims,  and 
an  inconsiderate  zeal  unto  truth,  have  too  rashly  charged 
the  troops  of  error  and  remain  as  trophies  unto  the 
enemies  of  truth.  A  man  may  be  in  as  just  possession 
of  truth  as  of  a  city,  and  yet  be  forced  to  surrender ;  'tis 
therefore  far  better  to  enjoy  her  with  peace  than  to 
hazard  her  on  a  battle.  If,  therefore,  there  rise  any 
doubts  in  my  way,  I  do  forget  them,  or  at  least  defer 
them,  till  my  better  settled  judgment  and  more  manly 
reason  be  able  to  resolve  them  ;  for  I  perceive  every 
man's  own  reason  is  his  best  ffidipus,'  and  will,  upon  a 
reasonable  truce,  find  a  way  to  loose  those  bonds  where- 
with the  subtleties  of  error  have  enchained  our  more 
flexible  and  tender  judgments.  In  philosophy,  where 
truth  seems  double-faced,  there  is  no  man  more  paia- 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  ir 

doxical  than  myself  :  but  in  div-inity  I  love  to  keep  the 
road ;  and,  though  not  in  an  implicit,  yet  an  humble 
faith,  follow  the  great  wheel  of  the  church,  by  which  I 
move  ;  not  reserving  any  proper  poles,  or  motion  from 
the  epicycle  of  my  own  brain.  By  this  means  I  have 
no  gap  for  heresy,  schisms,  or  errors,  of  wliich  at  pre- 
sent, 1  hope  I  shall  not  injure  truth  to  say,  I  have  no 
taint  or  tincture.  I  must  confess  my  greener  studies 
have  been  polluted  with  two  or  three ;  not  any  begotten 
in  the  latter  centuries,  but  old  and  obsolete,  such  as 
could  never  have  been  revived  but  by  such  extravagant 
and  irregular  heads  as  mine.  For,  indeed,  heresies  perish 
not  with  their  authors  ;  but,  like  the  river  Arethusa,^ 
though  they  lose  their  currents  in  one  place,  they  rise 
up  again  in  another.  One  general  council  is  not  able 
to  extirpate  one  single  heresy  :  it  may  be  cancelled  for 
the  present ;  but  revolution  of  time,  and  the  like  aspects 
from  heaven,  wiU  restore  it,  when  it  will  llouiish  till  it 
be  condemned  again.  For,  as  though  there  were  metemp- 
sychosis, and  the  soul  of  one  man  passed  into  another, 
opinions  do  find,  after  certain  revolutions,  men  and 
minds  like  those  that  first  begat  thenu  To  see  our- 
selves again,  we  need  not  look  for  Plato's  year  :  *  every 
man  \a  not  only  himself ;  there  have  been  many 
Diogenes,  and  as  many  Timons,  though  but  few  of  that 
name  ;  men  are  lived  over  again  ;  the  world  is  now  as 
it  was  in  ages  past ;  there  was  none  then,  but  there  hath 
l)een  some  one  since,  that  parallels  him,  and  is,  as  it 
were,  lus  revived  self. 

Sect.  7. — Now,  the  first  of  mine  was  that  of  the 
Arabians  ;  *  that  the  souls  of  men  perished  with  their 

•  A  revolution  of  certain  thousand  years,  when  all  thinpn 
should  return  unto  their  former  ehtate,  and  ho  be  tcachiu'j 
ague  in  hi<  school,  aa  when  ho  delivered  this  opinion. 


12  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

1)0(1168,  but  slioidd  yet  be  raised  again  at  the  last  day  : 
not  that  I  did  absolutely  conceive  a  mortality  of  the 
soul,  but,  if  that  were  (which  faith,  not  philosophy, 
hath  yet  thoroiighly  disproved),  and  that  both  entered 
the  grave  together,  yet  I  held  the  same  conceit  thereof 
that  we  all  do  of  the  body,  that  it  rise  agaiu.  Surely  it 
is  but  the  merits  of  our  unworthy  natures,  if  we  sleep 
in  darkness  until  the  last  alarm.  A  serious  reflex  upon 
my  own  unworthiness  did  make  me  backward  from 
challenging  this  prerogative  of  my  soul :  so  that  I 
might  enjoy  my  Saviour  at  the  last,  I  could  with 
patience  be  nothing  almost  unto  eternity.  The  second 
was  that  of  Origen  ;  that  God  would  not  persist  in  his 
vengeance  for  ever,  but,  after  a  definite  time  of  his 
wrath,  would  release  the  damned  souls  from  torture ; 
which  error  I  fell  into  upon  a  serious  contemplation  of 
the  great  attribute  of  God,  his  mercy  ;  and  did  a  little 
cherish  it  in  myself,  because  I  found  therein  no  malice, 
and  a  ready  weight  to  sway  me  from  the  other  extreme 
of  despair,  whereunto  melancholy  and  contemplative 
natures  are  too  easily  disposed.  A  third  there  is,  which 
I  did  never  positively  maintain  or  practise,  but  have 
often  wished  it  had  been  consonant  to  truth,  and  not 
offensive  to  my  religion  ;  and  that  is,  the  prayer  for  the 
dead  ;  whereunto  I  was  inclined  from  some  charitable 
inducements,  whereby  I  coiJd  scarce  contain  my  prayers 
for  a  friend  at  the  ringing  of  a  bell,  or  behold  his  corpse 
without  an  orison  for  his  soul.  'Twas  a  good  way, 
methought,  to  be  remembered  by  posterity,  and  far 
more  noble  than  a  history.  These  opinions  I  never 
maintained  with  pertinacity,  or  endeavoured  to  inveigle 
any  man's  belief  unto  mine,  nor  so  much  as  ever 
revealed,  or  disputed  them  with  my  dearest  friends  ;  by 
which  means  I  neither  propagated  them  in  others  nor 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  13 

confirmed  them  in  myself :  but,  suffering  them  to  flame 
upon  their  oyra.  substance,  ^vithout  addition  of  new 
fuel,  they  went  out  insensibly  of  themselves  ;  therefore 
these  opinions,  though  condemned  by  lawful  councils, 
were  not  heresies  in  me,  but  bare  errors,  and  single 
lapses  of  my  understanding,  ■without  a  joint  depravity 
of  my  will.  Those  have  not  only  depraved  under- 
standings, but  diseased  affections,  which  cannot  enjoy  a 
singularity  without  a  heresy,  or  be  the  author  of  an 
opinion  without  they  be  of  a  sect  also.  This  was  the 
villany  of  the  first  schism  of  Lucifer ;  who  was  not 
content  to  err  alone,  but  drew  into  his  faction  many 
legions  ;  and  upon  this  experience  he  tempted  only  Eve, 
well  understanding  the  communicable  nature  of  sin,  and 
that  to  deceive  but  one  was  tacitly  and  upon  consequence 
to  delude  them  both. 

Sect.  8. — That  heresies  should  arise,  we  have  the 
prophecy  of  Christ ;  but,  that  old  ones  should  be 
abolished,  we  hold  no  prediction.  That  there  must 
be  heresies,  is  true,  not  only  in  our  church,  but  also  in 
any  other  :  even  in  the  doctrines  heretical  there  will  be 
superheresies  ;  and  Arians,  not  only  divided  from  the 
church,  but  also  among  themselves  :  for  heads  that  are 
disposed  imto  schism,  and  complexionally  propense  to 
innovation,  are  naturally  indisposed  for  a  community  ; 
nor  will  be  ever  confined  unto  the  order  or  economy  of 
one  body  ;  and  therefore,  when  they  separate  from 
others,  they  knit  but  loosely  among  themselves  ;  nor 
contented  with  a  general  breach  or  dicliotoniy'"  with 
their  churcli,  do  subdivide  and  mince  themselves  almost 
into  atoms.  'Tis  true,  that  men  of  singular  parts  and 
humours  liave  not  been  free  from  singular  opinions  and 
conceits  in  all  ages  ;  retaining  soinetliiiig,  not  only 
beside  the  opinion  of  his  own  church,  or  any  other,  but 


14  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

also  any  particular  author  ;  ^111011,  notwithstanding,  a 
sober  judgment  may  do  without  offence  or  heresy  ;  for 
there  is  yet,  after  all  the  decrees  of  councils,  and  the 
niceties  of  the  schools,  many  things,  untouched,  un- 
imagined,  wherein  the  liberty  of  an  honest  reason  may 
play  and  expatiate  with  security,  and  far  without  the 
circle  of  a  heresy. 

Se,ct.  9. — As  for  those  wingy  mysteries  in  divinity, 
and  airy  subtleties  in  religion,  which  have  imhinged 
the  brains  of  better  heads,  they  never  stretched  the  fia 
mater'^'^  of  mine.  Methinks  there  be  not  impossibilities 
enough  in  religion  for  an  active  faith  :  the  deepest 
mysteries  ours  contains  have  not  only  been  illustrated, 
but  maintained,  by  syllogism  and  the  rule  of  reason.  I 
love  to  lose  myself  in  a  mystery  ;  to  pursue  my  reason 
to  an  0  altitudo !  'Tis  my  solitary  recreation  to  pose 
my  apprehension  with  those  involved  enigmas  and 
riddles  of  the  Trinity — with  incarnation  and  resurrec- 
tion. I  can  answer  all  the  objections  of  Satan  and  my 
rebellious  reason  ■ndth  that  odd  resolution  I  learned  of 
Tertullian,  "  Certum  est  quia  irnpossibile  est."  I  desire 
to  exercise  my  faith  in  the  difficultest  point ;  for,  to 
credit  ordinary  and  visible  objects,  is  not  faith,  but 
persuasion.  Some  believe  the  better  for  seeing  Christ's 
sepulchre;  and,  when  they  have  seen  the  Red  Sea, 
doubt  not  of  the  miracle.  Now,  contrarily,  I  bless 
myself,  and  am  thankful,  that  I  lived  not  in  the  days 
of  miracles  ;  that  I  never  saw  Christ  nor  his  disciples. 
I  would  not  have  been  one  of  those  Israelites  that 
passed  the  Red  Sea ;  nor  one  of  Christ's  patients,  on 
whom  he  wrought  his  wonders  :  then  had  my  faith  been 
thrust  upon  me  ;  norshould  I  enjoy  that  greater  blessing 
pronounced  to  all  that  believe  and  saw  not.  'Tis  an 
easy  and  necessary  belief,  to  credit  what  our  eye  and 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  15 

pon?e  hath  examined.  I  believe  he  was  dead,  and 
buried,  and  rose  again  ;  and  desire  to  see  hiin  in  his 
glory,  rather  than  to  contemplate  him  in  his  cenotaph 
or  sepulchre.  Nor  is  this  much  to  believe  ;  as  we  have 
reason,  we  owe  this  faitli  unto  history  :  they  only  had 
the  advantage  of  a  bold  and  noble  faith,  who  lived 
before  his  coming,  who,  upon  obscure  prophesies  and 
mystical  tj'pes,  could  raise  a  belief,  and  expect  apparent 
impossibilities. 

Sect.  10. — 'Tis  true,  there  is  an  edge  in  all  firm  belief, 
and  with  an  easy  metaphor  we  may  say,  the  sword  of 
faith  ;  but  in  these  obscurities  I  rather  use  it  in  the 
adjunct  the  apostle  gives  it,  a  buckler  ;  under  which  I 
conceive  a  wary  combatant  may  lie  invulnerable.  Since 
I  was  of  understanding  to  know  that  we  knew  nothing, 
my  reason  hath  been  more  pliable  to  the  will  of  faith  : 
I  am  now  content  to  understand  a  mystery,  without  a 
rigid  definition,  in  an  easy  and  Platonic  description. 
That  allegorical  description  of  Hermes*  pleaseth  me 
beyond  all  the  metaphysical  definitions  of  divines. 
Where  I  cannot  satisfy  my  reason,  I  love  to  humour 
my  fancy  :  I  had  as  lieve  you  tell  me  that  anima  est 
angeliLS  hominis,  est  corpus  Dei,  as  imeXix^ia  -j—lwx  est 
umbra  Dei,  as  actiLs  perspicui.  Wliere  there  is  an 
obscurity  too  deep  for  our  reason,  'tis  good  to  sit  down 
with  a  description,  periphrasis,  or  adumbration  ;^2  for, 
by  acquainting  our  reason  how  unable  it  is  to  disjilay 
the  visible  and  obvious  eflfects  of  nature,  it  becomes 
more  humble  and  submissive  unto  the  subtleties  of  faith : 
and  thus  I  teach  my  haggard  and  unreclaimed  reason 
to  Btoop  unto  the  lure  of  faith.  I  believe  there  was 
alrca/ly  a  tree,  whose  fruit  our  unhai)py  parents  tasted, 
tliough,  in  the  same  chapter  when  Uod  forbids  it,  'tis 

•  "Sphscra  cuju«  centrum  ubi(|ue,  circumferontiu  nullibL" 


i6  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

positively  said,  tlie  plants  of  the  field  were  not  yet 
grown  ;  for  God  had  not  caused  it  to  rain  upon  the 
earth.  I  believe  that  the  serpent  (if  we  shall  literally 
understand  it),  from  his  proper  form  and  figure,  made 
his  motion  on  his  helly,  before  the  curse.  I  find  the 
trial  of  the  pucelage  and  virginity  of  women,  which  God 
ordained  the  Jews,  is  very  fallible.  Experience  and 
history  informs  me  that,  not  only  many  particular 
women,  but  likewise  whole  nations,  have  escaped  the 
curse  of  childbirth,  which  God  seems  to  pronounce  upon 
the  whole  sex  ;  yet  do  I  believe  that  all  this  is  true, 
which,  indeed,  my  reason  would  persuade  me  to  be 
false  :  and  this,  I  think,  is  no  vulgar  part  of  faith,  to 
believe  a  thing  not  only  above,  but  contrary  to,  reason, 
and  against  the  arguments  of  our  proper  senses. 

Sect.  11. — In  my  solitary  and  retired  imagination 
("  neque,  enim  cum  porticus  aut  me  lectulus  accepit,  desum 
mihi"),  I  remember  I  am  not  alone ;  and  therefore  forget 
not  to  contemplate  him  and  his  attributes,  who  is  ever 
with  me,  especially  those  two  mighty  ones,  his  wisdom 
and  eternity.  With  the  one  I  recreate,  with  the  other 
I  confound,  my  understanding  :  for  who  can  speak  of 
eternity  without  a  solecism,  or  think  thereof  without 
an  ecstasy  ?  Time  we  may  comprehend  ;  'tis  but  five 
days  elder  than  ourselves,  and  hath  the  same  horoscope 
with  the  world ;  but,  to  retire  so  far  back  as  to  appre- 
hend a  beginning, — to  give  such  an  infinite  start  for- 
wards as  to  conceive  an  end, — in  an  essence  that  we 
affirm  hath  neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  it  puts  my 
reason  to  St  Paul's  sanctuary :  my  philosophy  dares  not 
say  the  angels  can  do  it.  God  hath  not  made  a  creature 
that  can  comprehend  him  ;  'tis  a  privilege  of  his  own 
nature  :  "  I  am  that  I  am "  was  his  own  definition  unto 
Moses  ;  and  'twas  a  short  one  to  confound  mortality, 


KELIGIO  MEDICI.  17 

that  durst  question  God,  or  ask  him  what  he  was.  In- 
deed, he  only  is  ;  all  others  have  and  shall  be  ;  but,  in 
eternity,  there  is  no  distinction  of  tenses ;  and  therefore 
that  terrible  term,  predestination,  which  hath  troubled 
so  many  weak  heads  to  conceive,  and  the  ^\^sest  to  ex- 
plain, is  in  respect  to  God  no  prescious  determination  of 
our  estates  to  come,  but  a  definitive  blast  of  his  will 
already  fulfilled,  and  at  the  instant  that  he  first  decreed 
it ;  for,  to  his  eternity,  which  is  indivisible,  and  alto- 
gether, the  last  trump  is  already  sounded,  the  reprobates 
in  the  flame,  and  the  blessed  in  Abraham's  bosom.  St 
Peter  speaks  modestly,  when  he  saith,  "  a  thousand 
years  to  God  are  but  as  one  day  ; "  for,  to  speak  like  a 
philosopher,  those  continued  instances  of  time,  which 
flow  into  a  thousand  years,  make  not  to  him  one  moment. 
"VMiat  to  us  is  to  come,  to  his  eternity  is  present  ;  his 
whole  duration  being  but  one  permanent  point,  -n-ithout 
succession,  parts,  flux,  or  division. 

Std.  12. — There  is  no  attribute  that  adds  more  diffi- 
culty to  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity,  Avhere,  though  in  a 
relative  way  of  Father  and  Son,  we  must  deny  a  priority. 
I  wonder  how  Aristotle  could  conceive  the  world  eternal, 
or  how  he  could  make  good  two  eternities.  His  simili- 
tude, of  a  triangle  comprehended  in  a  square,  doth  some- 
what illustrate  the  trinity  of  our  souls,  and  that  the 
triple  unity  of  God  ;  for  there  is  in  us  not  three,  but  a 
trinity  of,  souls  ;  because  there  is  in  us,  if  not  three  dis- 
tinct souls,  yet  diff"ering  faculties,  that  can  and  do  subsist 
apart  in  different  subjects,  and  yet  in  ns  are  thus  united 
as  to  make  but  one  soul  and  substance.  If  one  soul 
were  so  perfect  as  to  inform  three  distinct  bodies,  that 
were  a  petty  trinity.  Conceive  the  distinct  number  of 
three,  not  divided  nor  separated  by  the  intellect,  but 
actuallv  comprehended  in  its  un»ty,  and  that  is  a  pcr- 

B 


i8  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

feet  trinity.  I  have  often  admired  the  mystical  way  of 
Pythagoras,  and  the  secret  magick  of  numbers.  "  Be- 
ware of  philosophy,"  is  a  precept  not  to  be  received  in 
too  large  a  sense  :  for,  in  this  mass  of  nature,  there  is 
a  set  of  things  that  carry  in  their  front,  though  not  in 
capital  letters,  yet  in  stenography  and  short  characters, 
something  of  divinity  ;  wliich,  to  wser  reasons,  serve  as 
luminaries  in  the  abyss  of  knowledge,  and,  to  judicious 
beliefs,  as  scales  and  roundles  to  mount  the  pinnacles 
and  highest  pieces  of  divinity.  The  severe  schools  shall 
never  laugh  me  out  of  the  philosophy  of  Hermes,  that 
this  visible  world  is  but  a  picture  of  the  invisible,  where- 
in, as  in  a  portrait,  things  are  not  truly,  but  in  equivocal 
shapes,  and  as  they  counterfeit  some  real  substance  in 
that  invisible  fabrick. 

Se,ct.  13. — That  other  attribute,  wherewith  I  recreate 
my  devotion,  is  his  wisdom,  in  which  I  am  happy  ;  and 
for  the  contemplation  of  this  only  do  not  repent  me  that 
I  was  bred  in  the  way  of  study.  The  advantage  I  have 
of  the  vulgar,  with  the  content  and  happiness  I  conceive 
therein,  is  an  ample  recompense  for  all  my  endeavours, 
in  what  part  of  knowledge  soever.  Wisdom  is  his  most 
beauteous  attribute  :  no  man  can  attain  unto  it :  yet 
Solomon  pleased  God  when  he  desired  it.  He  is  wise, 
because  he  knows  all  things ;  and  he  knoweth  all  things, 
because  he  made  them  all :  but  his  greatest  knowledge 
is  in  comprehending  that  he  made  not,  that  is,  himself. 
And  this  is  also  the  greatest  knowledge  in  man.  For 
this  do  I  honour  my  own  profession,  and  embrace  the 
counsel  even  of  the  devil  himself  :  had  he  read  such  a 
lecture  in  Paradise  as  he  did  at  Delphos,*^*  we  had 
better  known  ourselves  ;  nor  had  we  stood  in  fear  to 

*  "  r^'wtft  (Teoi'T6»'. "     "Nosce  teipsum." 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  19 

know  him.  I  know  God  is  wise  in  all  ;  wonderful  in 
what  we  conceive,  but  far  more  in  what  we  comprehend 
not :  for  we  behold  him  but  asquint,  upon  reflex  or 
ahadow  ;  our  understanding  is  dimmer  than  Moses's 
eye  ;  we  are  ignorant  of  the  back  parts  or  lower  side 
of  his  divinity  ;  therefore,  to  pry  into  the  maze  of  his 
counsels,  is  not  only  folly  in  man,  but  presumption 
even  in  angels.  Like  us,  they  are  his  servants,  not  his 
senators  ;  he  holds  no  counsel,  but  that  mystical  one  of 
the  Trinity,  wherein,  though  there  be  three  persons, 
there  is  but  one  mind  that  decrees  without  contradic- 
tion. Nor  needs  he  any  ;  his  actions  are  not  begot 
with  deliberation  ;  his  wisdom  naturally  knows  what 's 
best :  his  intellect  stands  ready  fraught  with  the  super- 
lative and  purest  ideas  of  goodness,  consultations,  and 
election,  which  are  two  motions  in  us,  make  but  one  in 
him  :  his  actions  springing  from  his  power  at  the  first 
touch  of  his  will.  These  are  contemplations  meta- 
physical :  my  humble  speculations  have  another  method, 
and  are  content  to  trace  and  discover  those  expressions 
he  hath  left  in  his  creatures,  and  the  obvious  effects  of 
nature.  There  is  no  danger  to  profound  i*  these  mys- 
teries, no  sanctum  sanctorum  in  philosophy.  The  world 
waa  made  to  be  inhabited  by  beasts,  but  studied  and 
contemplated  by  man  :  'tis  the  debt  of  our  reason  we 
owe  unto  God,  and  the  homage  we  pay  for  not  being 
Ixyists.  Without  this,  the  world  is  still  as  though  it 
had  not  been,  or  as  it  was  before  the  sixth  day,  when  as 
yet  there  wa.s  not  a  creature  tliat  could  conceive  or  say 
there  was  a  world.  The  wisdom  of  God  receives  small 
honour  from  those  vulgar  heads  that  rudely  stare  about, 
anri  with  a  groaa  rusticity  admire  hifl  works.  Those 
highly  magnify  liini,  wliose  judicious  enquiry  into  hLs 
acta,  and  deliU^rate  research  into  his  creatures,  return 


20  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

the  duty  of  a  devout  and  learned  admiration.     There- 
fore, 

Searcli  while  thou  wilt ;  and  let  thy  reason  go, 

To  ransom  truth,  e'en  to  th'  abyss  below ; 

Rally  the  scatter'd  causes  ;  and  that  line 

Which  nature  twists  be  able  to  untwine. 

It  is  thy  Maker's  will ;  for  unto  none 

But  unto  reason  can  he  e'er  be  known. 

Tlie  devils  do  know  thee  ;  but  those  damn'd  meteors 

Build  not  thy  glory,  but  confound  thy  creatures. 

Teach  my  endeavoui-s  so  thy  works  to  read, 

That  learning  them  in  thee  I  may  proceed. 

Give  thou  my  reason  that  instructive  flight. 

Whose  weary  ^vings  may  on  thy  hands  still  light. 

Teach  me  to  soar  aloft,  yet  ever  so, 

When  near  the  sun,  to  stoop  again  below. 

Thus  shall  my  humble  feathers  safely  hover. 

And,  though  near  earth,  more  than  the  heavens  discover. 

And  then  at  last,  when  homeward  I  shall  drive, 

Kich  with  the  spoils  of  nature,  to  my  hive, 

There  will  I  sit,  like  that  industrious  fly, 

Buzzing  thy  praises ;  which  shall  never  die 

TiU  death  abrupts  them,  and  succeeding  glory 

Bid  me  go  on  in  a  more  lasting  story. 

And  this  is  almost  all  "wherein  an  humble  creature 
may  endeavour  to  requite,  and  some  way  to  retribute 
unto  his  Creator  :  for,  if  not  he  that  saith,  "  Lord,  Lord, 
but  he  that  doth  the  will  of  the  Father,  shall  be  saved," 
certainly  our  wills  must  be  our  performances,  and  our 
intents  make  out  our  actions  ;  otherwise  our  pious  labours 
shall  find  anxiety  in  our  graves,  and  our  best  endeavours 
not  hope,  but  fear,  a  resurrection. 

Slid.  14. — There  is  but  one  first  cause,  and  four  second 
causes,  of  all  things.  Some  are  without  efl&cient,^^  as 
God ;  others  without  matter,  as  angels  ;  some  -svithout 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  21 

fonn,  as  the  first  matter  :  but  every  essence,  created  or 
uncreated,  hath  its  final  cause,  and  some  positive  end 
both  of  its  essence  and  operation.  This  is  the  cause  I 
grope  after  in  the  works  of  nature  ;  on  this  hangs  the 
providence  of  God.  To  raise  so  beauteous  a  structure 
as  the  world  and  the  creatures  thereof  was  but  his  art ; 
but  their  siindry  and  divided  operations,  with  their  pre- 
destinated ends,  are  from  the  treasure  of  his  ^visdom. 
In  the  causes,  nature,  and  aff"ections,  of  the  eclipses  of 
the  sun  and  moon,  there  is  most  excellent  speculation  ; 
but,  to  profound  further,  and  to  contemplate  a  reason 
why  his  providence  hath  so  disposed  and  ordered  their 
motions  in  that  vast  circle,  as  to  conjoin  and  obscure 
each  other,  is  a  sweeter  piece  of  reason,  and  a  diviner 
point  of  philosophy.  Therefore,  sometimes,  and  in  some 
things,  there  appears  to  me  as  much  divinity  in  Galen 
hifl  books,  Dt  Usu  Partium,^^  as  in  Suarez's  Meta- 
physicks.  Had  Aristotle  been  as  curious  in  the  enquiry 
of  this  cause  as  he  was  of  the  other,  he  had  not  left 
l>ehind  him  an  imperfect  piece  of  philosophy,  but  an 
absolute  tract  of  divinity. 

Sect.  15. — Natura  nihil  agit  fni.itra,  is  the  only  indis- 
putable axiom  in  philosophy.  There  are  no  grotesques 
in  nature;  not  any  thing  framed  to  fill  up  empty  cantons, 
and  unnecessary  spaces.  In  the  most  imperfect  creatures, 
and  such  as  were  not  preserved  in  the  ark,  but,  having 
their  seeds  and  principles  in  the  womb  of  nature,  an- 
everywhere,  where  the  power  of  the  sun  is, — in  these  is 
the  wisdom  of  his  hand  discovered.  Out  of  this  rank 
Solomon  chose  the  object  of  his  admiration  ;  indeed, 
what  reason  may  not  go  to  school  to  the  wisdom  of  bees, 
anta,  and  spiders  ?  Wliat  wise  hand  teacheth  them  to 
«lo  what  reason  caimot  teach  us  ?  Iluder  heads  stand 
ama/ed  at  those  prodigious   pieces  of  nuliin",   whales, 


22  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

elephants,  dromedaries,  and  camels ;  these,  I  confess, 
are  the  colossus  and  majestick  pieces  of  her  hand  ;  hut 
in  these  narrow  engines  there  is  more  curious  mathe- 
maticks ;  and  the  civility  of  these  little  citizens  more 
neatly  sets  forth  the  wisdom  of  their  Maker.  Who 
admires  not  Regio  Montanus  his  fly  beyond  his  eagle  ;^^ 
or  wonders  not  more  at  the  operation  of  two  souls  in 
those  little  bodies  than  but  one  in  the  tnmk  of  a  cedar? 
I  could  never  content  my  contemplation  with  those 
general  pieces  of  wonder,  the  flux  and  reflux  of  the  sea, 
the  increase  of  Nile,  the  conversion  of  the  needle  to  the 
north  ;  and  have  studied  to  match  and  parallel  those  in 
the  more  obvious  and  neglected  pieces  of  nat\ire  which, 
without  farther  travel,  I  can  do  in  the  cosmography  of 
myself.  We  carry  with  us  the  wonders  we  seek  without 
us  :  there  is  all  Africa  and  her  prodigies  in  us.  We 
are  that  bold  and  adventurous  piece  of  nature,  which 
he  that  studies  wisely  learns,  in  a  compendium,  what 
others  labour  at  in  a  divided  piece  and  endless  volume. 
Be,cL  16. — Thus  there  are  two  books  from  whence  I 
collect  my  divinity.  Besides  that  written  one  of  God, 
another  of  his  servant,  nature,  that  universal  and  publick 
manuscript,  that  lies  expansed  unto  the  eyes  of  all. 
Those  that  never  saw  him  in  the  one  have  discovered 
him  in  the  other  :  this  was  the  scripture  and  theology 
of  the  heathens  ;  the  natural  motion  of  the  sun  made 
them  more  admire  him  than  its  supernatural  station  did 
the  children  of  Israel.  The  ordinary  effects  of  nature 
wrought  more  admiration  in  them  than,  in  the  other, 
all  his  miracles.  Surely  the  heathens  knew  better  how 
to  join  and  read  these  mystical  letters  than  we  Christians, 
who  cast  a  more  careless  eye  on  these  common  hiero- 
glyphics, and  disdain  to  suck  divinity  from  the  flowers 
of  nature.     Nor  do  I  so  forget  God  as  to  adore  the  name 


REUGIO  MEDICI.  23 

of  nature  ;  which  I  define  not,  with  the  schools,  to  be 
the  principle  of  motion  and  rest,  Init  that  straight  and 
regular  line,  that  settled  and  constant  course  the  wisdom 
of  God  hath  ordained  the  actions  of  his  creatures,  accord- 
ing to  their  several  kinds.  To  make  a  revolution  every 
day  is  the  nature  of  the  sun,  because  of  that  necessary 
course  which  God  hath  ordained  it,  from  which  it  cannot 
swerve  but  by  a  faculty  from  that  voice  which  first  did 
give  it  motion.  Now  this  course  of  nature  God  seldom 
alters  or  pen-erts  ;  but,  like  an  excellent  artist,  hath  so 
contrived  his  work,  that,  with  the  self-same  instrument, 
without  a  new  creation,  he  may  effect  his  obscurest 
designs.  Thus  he  sweeteneth  the  water  with  a  word, 
preserveth  the  creatures  in  the  ark,  which  the  blast  of 
his  mouth  might  have  as  easily  created  ; — for  God  is 
like  a  skilful  geometrician,  who,  when  more  easily,  and 
with  one  stroke  of  his  compass,  he  might  describe  or 
divide  a  right  line,  had  yet  rather  do  this  in  a  circle  or 
longer  way,  according  to  the  constituted  and  forelaid 
principles  of  his  art :  yet  tliis  rule  of  his  he  doth  some- 
times pervert,  to  acquaint  the  world  with  his  preroga- 
tive, lest  the  arrogancy  of  our  reason  should  question  his 
power,  and  conclude  he  could  not.  And  thus  I  call  the 
effects  of  nature  the  works  of  God,  whose  hand  and 
in«tniment  phe  only  is  ;  and  therefore,  to  ascribe  his 
actions  unto  her  is  to  devolve  the  honour  of  the  prin- 
cipal agent  upon  the  instrument  ;  which  if  with  reason 
we  may  do,  tln-ii  let  our  hammers  rise  up  and  boa.st  they 
have  built  our  houses,  and  our  pens  receive  the  honour 
of  our  writing.  I  hold  there  is  a  general  beauty  in  the 
works  of  Grxl,  and  therefore  no  deformity  in  any  kind 
of  BpcrcicK  of  creature  whatsoever.  I  cannot  tell  by  what 
logick  we  call  a  toad,  a  l)ear,  or  an  elei)hant  ugly  ;  tlicy 
being  created  in  those  outward  shapes  and  figures  which 


24  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

best  express  the  actions  of  their  inward  forms  ;  and 
having  passed  that  general  visitation  of  God,  who  saw 
that  all  that  he  had  made  was  good,  that  is,  conformable 
to  his  will,  which  abhors  deformity,  and  is  the  rule  of 
order  and  beauty.  There  is  no  deformity  but  in  mon- 
strosity ;  wherein,  notwithstanding,  there  is  a  kind  of 
beauty  ;  nature  so  ingeniously  contriving  the  irregular 
parts,  as  they  become  sometimes  more  remarkable  than 
the  principal  fabrick.  To  speak  yet  more  narrowly, 
there  was  never  any  thing  ugly  or  mis-shapen,  but  the 
chaos  ;  wherein,  notwithstanding,  to  speak  strictly,  there 
was  no  deformity,  because  no  form  ;  nor  was  it  yet  im- 
pregnant  by  the  voice  of  God.  Now  nature  is  not  at 
variance  with  art,  nor  art  with  nature  ;  they  being  both 
the  servants  of  his  providence.  Art  is  the  perfection  of 
nature.  "Were  the  world  now  as  it  was  the  sixth  day, 
there  were  yet  a  chaos.  Nature  hath  made  one  world, 
and  art  another.  In  brief,  all  things  are  artificial ;  for 
nature  is  the  art  of  God. 

S&ct.  17. — This  is  the  ordinary  and  open  way  of  his 
providence,  which  art  and  industry  have  in  good  part 
discovered  ;  whose  eff'ects  we  may  foretell  without  an 
oracle.  To  foreshow  these  is  not  prophecy,  but  prog- 
nostication. There  is  another  way,  full  of  meanders 
and  labyrinths,  whereof  the  devil  and  spirits  have  no 
exact  ephemerides  :  and  that  is  a  more  particular  and 
obscure  method  of  his  providence  ;  directing  the  opera- 
tions of  individual  and  single  essences  :  this  we  call 
fortime  ;  that  serpentine  and  crooked  line,  whereby  he 
draws  those  actions  his  wisdom  intends  in  a  more  un- 
known and  secret  way  ;  this  cryptic  ^^  and  involved 
method  of  his  providence  have  I  ever  admired  ;  nor 
can  I  relate  the  history  of  my  life,  the  occurrences  of 
my  days,  the  escapes,  or  dangers,  and  hits  of  chance, 


KELIGIO  MEDIC/.  25 

with  a  hezo  las  manos  to  Fortune,  or  a  bare  gramercy  to 
1117  good  stars.  Abraham  might  have  thought  the  ram 
in  the  thicket  came  thither  by  accident :  hiunan  reason 
would  have  said  that  mere  chance  Conveyed  Moses  in 
the  ark  to  the  sight  of  Pharaoh's  daughter.  "What  a 
labyruith  is  there  in  the  story  of  Joseph  !  able  to  con- 
vert a  stoick.  Surely  there  are  in  every  man's  life 
certain  rubs,  doublings,  and  wrenches,  which  pass  a 
while  under  the  effects  of  chance  ;  but  at  the  last,  well 
examined,  prove  the  mere  hand  of  God.  'Twas  not 
dumb  chance  that,  to  discover  the  fougade,i9  or  powder 
plot,  contrived  a  miscarriage  in  the  letter.  I  like  the 
victory  of  '88  -"  the  better  for  that  one  occurrence  which 
our  enemies  imputed  to  our  dishonour,  and  the  partiality 
of  fortune  ;  to  wit,  the  tempests  and  contrariety  of 
winds.  King  Philip  did  not  detract  from  the  nation, 
when  he  said,  he  sent  his  armada  to  fight  with  men, 
and  not  to  combat  with  the  winds.  Where  there  is  a 
manifest  disproportion  between  the  powers  and  forces 
of  two  several  agents,  upon  a  maxim  of  reason  we  may 
promise  the  victory  to  the  superior :  but  when  unex- 
pected accidents  slip  in,  and  unthought-of  occurrences 
intervene,  these  must  proceed  from  a  power  that  owes 
no  obedience  to  those  axioms  ;  where,  as  in  the  writing 
upon  the  wall,  we  may  behold  the  hand,  but  see  not 
the  spring  that  moves  it.  The  success  of  that  petty 
province  of  Holland  (of  which  tlie  Grand  Seignior 
proudly  said,  if  they  should  trouble  him,  as  they  did 
the  S[ianianl,  he  would  send  his  men  with  shovels  and 
pickaxes,  and  throw  it  into  the  sea)  I  cannot  altogether 
uricribe  to  the  ingenuity  and  industry  of  tlie  people,  but 
the  mercy  of  God,  that  hath  disposed  them  to  such  a 
thriving  genius  ;  and  to  the  will  of  his  yirovidnnro,  that 
dirtpo.seth  her  favour  to  each  country  in  their  preordinato 


26  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

season.  All  cannot  "be  happy  at  once  ;  for,  because  the 
glory  of  one  state  depends  upon  the  ruin  of  another, 
there  is  a  revolution  and  vicissitude  of  their  greatness, 
and  must  obey  the  swing  of  that  wheel,  not  moved  by 
intelligencies,  but  by  the  hand  of  God,  whereby  all 
estates  arise  to  their  zenith  and  vertical  points,  accord- 
ing to  their  predestinated  periods.  For  the  lives,  not 
only  of  men,  but  of  commonwealths  and  the  whole 
worid,  rim  not  upon  a  helix  that  still  enlargeth ;  but 
on  a  circle,  where,  arriving  to  their  meridian,  they 
decline  in  obscurity,  and  fall  under  the  horizon  again. 

&e,ct.  18. — These  must  not  therefore  be  named  the 
effects  of  fortune  biit  in  a  relative  way,  and  as  we  term 
the  works  of  nature.  It  was  the  ignorance  of  man's 
reason  that  begat  tliis  very  name,  and  by  a  careless 
term  miscalled  the  providence  of  God  :  for  there  is  no 
liberty  for  causes  to  operate  in  a  loose  and  straggling 
way ;  nor  any  effect  whatsoever  but  hath  its  warrant 
from  some  tmiversal  or  superior  cause.  'Tis  not  a 
ridiculous  devotion  to  say  a  prayer  before  a  game  at 
tables  ;  for,  even  in  sortileges  ^i  and  matters  of  greatest 
uncertainty,  there  is  a  settled  and  preordered  course  of 
effects.  It  is  we  that  are  bliad,  not  fortune.  Because 
our  eye  is  too  dim  to  discover  the  mystery  of  her  effects, 
we  foolishly  paint  her  blind,  and  hoodwink  the  pro- 
vidence of  the  Almighty.  I  cannot  justify  that  con- 
temptible proverb,  that  "  fools  only  are  fortunate  ; "  or 
that  insolent  parodox,  that  "  a  wise  man  is  out  of  the 
reach  of  fortune  ; "  much  less  those  opprobrious  epithets 
of  poets, — "  whore,"  "  bawd,"  and  "  strimipet."  'Tis,  I  con- 
fess, the  common  fate  of  men  of  singular  gifts  of  mind,  to 
be  destitute  of  those  of  fortime  ;  which  doth  not  any  way 
deject  the  spirit  of  wiser  judgments  who  thoroughly 
understand  the  justice  of  this  proceeding  ;  and,  being 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  27 

enriched  with  liighcr  donatives,  cast  a  more  careless 
eye  on  these  vulgar  parts  of  felicity.  It  is  a  most  un- 
just ambition,  to  desire  to  engross  the  mercies  of  the 
Almighty,  not  to  be  content  with  the  goods  of  mind, 
without  a  possession  of  those  of  body  or  fortune  :  and 
it  is  an  error,  worse  than  heresy,  to  adore  these  com- 
plimental  and  circumstantial  pieces  of  felicity,  and  un- 
dervalue those  perfections  and  essential  points  of  happi- 
ness, wherein  we  resemble  our  Maker.  To  wiser  desires 
it  is  satisfaction  enough  to  deserve,  though  not  to  enjoy, 
the  favours  of  fortune.  Let  providence  provide  for  fools : 
'tis  not  partiality,  but  equity,  in  God,  who  deals  with  us 
but  as  our  natural  parents.  Those  that  are  able  of  body 
and  mind  he  leaves  to  their  deserts  ;  to  those  of  weaker 
merits  he  imparts  a  larger  portion  ;  and  pieces  out  the 
defect  of  one  by  the  excess  of  the  other.  Thus  have  we 
no  just  quarrel  with  nature  for  leaving  us  naked  ;  or  to 
envy  the  horns,  hoofs,  skins,  and  furs  of  other  creatures ; 
being  provided  with  reason,  that  can  supply  them  all. 
We  need  not  labour,  with  so  many  arguments,  to  con- 
fute judicial  astrology  ;  for,  if  there  be  a  truth  therein, 
it  doth  not  injure  divinity.  If  to  be  bom  imder  Mer- 
cury disposeth  us  to  be  witty  ;  under  Jupiter  to  be 
wealthy  ;  I  do  not  owe  a  knee  unto  these,  but  unto 
that  merciful  hand  that  hath  ordered  my  indifferent 
and  uncertain  nativity  unto  sucli  benevolous  aspects. 
Those  that  hold  that  all  things  are  governed  by  fortune, 
had  not  erred,  had  they  not  persisted  there.  The 
Romans,  that  erected  a  temple  to  Fortune,  acknow- 
ledged therein,  though  in  a  blinder  way,  somewhat  of 
divinity  ;  for,  in  a  wise  8upputation,M  all  things  begin 
and  end  in  tin-  Almighty.  There  is  a  nearer  way  to 
heaven  than  Homcr'H  chain  ;*=>  an  easy  logick  may  con- 
join a  heaven  and  earth  in  one  argument,  and,  vith  leea 


28  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

than  a  soiites,^*  resolve  all  things  to  God.  For  though 
we  christen  effects  by  their  most  sensible  and  nearest 
causes,  yet  is  God  the  true  and  infallible  cause  of  all ; 
whose  concourse,  though  it  be  general,  yet  doth  it  sub- 
divide itseK  into  the  particular  actions  of  every  thing, 
and  is  that  spirit,  by  which  each  singular  essence  not 
only  subsists,  but  performs  its  operation. 

Be.d.  19. — The  bad  construction  and  perverse  com- 
ment on  these  pair  of  second  causes,  or  visible  hands  of 
God,  have  perverted  the  devotion  of  many  unto  atheism ; 
who,  forgetting  the  honest  advisoes  of  faith,  have  lis- 
tened unto  the  conspiracy  of  passion  and  reason.  I 
have  therefore  always  endeavoured  to  compose  those 
feuds  and  angry  dissensions  between  affection,  faith, 
and  reason  :  for  there  is  in  our  soul  a  kind  of  trium- 
virate, or  triple  government  of  three  competitors,  which 
distracts  the  peace  of  this  our  commonwealth  not  less 
than  did  that  other  "^  the  state  of  Eome. 

As  reason  is  a  rebel  unto  faith,  so  passion  unto  reason. 
As  the  propositions  of  faith  seem  absurd  unto  reason, 
so  the  theorems  of  reason  unto  passion  and  both  unto 
reason  ;  yet  a  moderate  and  peaceable  discretion  may 
so  state  and  order  the  matter,  that  they  may  be  all 
kings,  and  yet  make  but  one  monarchy  :  every  one 
exercising  his  sovereignty  and  prerogative  in  a  due 
time  and  place,  according  to  the  restraint  and  limit  of 
circumstance.  There  are,  as  in  philosophy,  so  in 
divinity,  sturdy  doubts,  and  boisterous  objections, 
wherewith  the  unhappiness  of  our  knowledge  too 
nearly  acquainteth  us.  More  of  these  no  man  hath 
known  than  myself ;  which  I  confess  I  conquered,  not 
in  a  martial  posture,  but  on  my  knees.  For  our  en- 
deavours are  not  only  to  combat  with  doubts,  but 
always  to  dispute  with  the  devil.     The  villany  of  that 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  29 

epirit  takes  a  hint  of  infidelity  from  our  studies  ;  and, 
by  demonstrating  a  natnriJity  in  one  way,  makes  us 
mistrust  a  miracle  in  another.  Thus,  having  perused 
the  Archidoxes,  and  read  the  secret  sympathies  of 
things,  he  would  dissuade  my  belief  from  the  miracle 
of  the  brazen  serpent ;  make  me  conceit  that  image 
worked  by  sympathy,  and  was  but  an  Egj^ptian  trick, 
to  cure  their  diseases  Avithout  a  miracle.  Again,  having 
seen  some  experiments  of  bitumen,  and  having  read  far 
more  of  naphtha,  he  whispered  to  my  curiosity  the  fire 
of  the  altar  might  be  natural,  and  bade  me  mistrust  a 
miracle  in  Elias,  when  he  intrenched  the  altar  round 
Avith  water :  for  that  inflamable  substance  yields  not 
easily  unto  water,  but  flames  in  the  arms  of  its  an- 
tagonist. And  thus  would  he  iuveigle  my  belief  to 
think  the  combustion  of  Sodom  might  be  natural,  and 
that  there  was  an  asphaltick  and  bituminous  nature  in 
that  lake  before  the  fire  of  Gomorrah.  I  know  that 
manna  is  now  plentifully  gathered  in  Calabria ;  and 
Josephus  tells  me,  in  his  days  it  was  as  plentiful  in 
Arabia.  The  devil  therefore  made  the  query,  "  Where 
was  then  the  miracle  in  the  days  of  Moses  ? "  The 
Israelites  saw  but  that,  in  his  time,  which  the  natives 
of  those  countries  behold  in  ours.  Thus  the  devil 
played  at  chess  with  me,  and,  yielding  a  pa^ATi,  thought 
to  gain  a  queen  of  me  ;  taking  advantage  of  my  honest 
endeavours  ;  and,  wlulst  I  laboured  to  raise  the  struc- 
ture of  my  reason,  he  strove  to  imdemiine  the  edifice  of 
my  faith. 

Htci.  20. — Neither  had  these  or  any  other  ever  such 
advantage  of  me,  as  to  incline  me  to  any  point  of  in- 
fidelity or  desj)erate  positions  of  atheism  ;  for  I  have 
been  these  many  years  of  opinion  there  was  never  any. 
Those  tliat  held  religion  was  the  difference  of  man  from 


30  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

beasts,  have  spoken  probably,  and  proceed  upon  a  prin- 
ciple as  inductive  as  tbe  other.  That  doctrine  of 
Epicurus,  that  denied  the  providence  of  God,  was  no 
atheism,  but  a  magnificent  and  high-strained  conceit  of 
his  majesty,  which  he  deemed  too  sublime  to  mind  the 
trivial  actions  of  those  inferior  creatures.  That  fatal 
necessity  of  the  stoicks  is  nothing  but  the  immutable 
law  of  his  will.  Those  that  heretofore  denied  the 
divinity  of  the  Holy  Ghost  have  been  condemned  but 
as  hereticks ;  and  those  that  now  deny  our  Saviour, 
though  more  than  hereticks,  are  not  so  much  as  atheists  : 
for,  though  they  deny  two  persons  in  the  Trinity,  they 
hold,  as  we  do,  there  is  but  one  God. 

That  villain  and  secretary  of  hell,^®  that  composed  that 
miscreant  piece  of  the  three  impostors,  though  divided 
from  all  religions,  and  neither  Jew,  Turk,  nor  Christian, 
was  not  a  positive  atheist.  I  confess  every  country  hath 
its  Machiavel,  every  age  its  Lucian,  whereof  common 
heads  must  not  hear,  nor  more  advanced  judgments  too 
rashly  venture  on.  It  is  the  rhetorick  of  Satan  ;  and 
may  pervert  a  loose  or  prejudicate  belief. 

&e,ct.  21. — I  confess  I  have  perused  them  all,  and  can 
discover  nothing  that  may  startle  a  discreet  belief ;  yet 
are  their  heads  carried  off  with  the  wind  and  breath  of 
such  motives.  I  remember  a  doctor  in  physick,  of 
Italy,  who  could  not  perfectly  believe  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  because  Galen  seemed  to  make  a  doubt 
thereof.  With  another  I  was  familiarly  acquainted,  in 
France,  a  divine,  and  a  man  of  singular  parts,  that  on 
the  same  point  was  so  plunged  and  gravelled  with  three 
lines  of  Seneca,*  that  all  our  antidotes,  drawn  from 

*  "  Post  mortem  nihil  est,  ipsaque  mors  niliil,  mors  individua 
est  noxia  corpori,  nee  patiens  animae.  .  .  .  Toti  morimur 
nullaque  pars  mauet  uostri." 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  31 

both  Scripture  and  philosophy,  could  not  expel  the 
poison  of  his  error.  There  are  a  set  of  heads  that  can 
credit  the  relations  of  mariners,  yet  question  the  testi- 
monies of  Saint  Paul  :  and  peremptorily  maintain  the 
traditions  of  iElian  or  Pliny  ;  yet,  in  histories  of  Scrip- 
ture, raise  queries  and  objections  :  believing  no  more 
than  they  can  parallel  in  human  authors.  I  confess 
there  are,  in  Scripture,  stories  that  do  exceed  the  fables 
of  poets,  and,  to  a  captious  reader,  sound  like  Gara- 
gantua  or  Bevis.  Search  all  the  legends  of  times  past, 
and  the  fabulous  conceits  of  these  present,  and  'twill  be 
hard  to  find  one  that  deserves  to  carry  the  buckler  unto 
Samson  ;  yet  is  all  this  of  an  ea.'iy  possibility,  if  we  con- 
ceive a  divine  concourse,  or  an  influence  from  the  little 
finger  of  the  Almighty.  It  is  impossible  that,  either 
in  the  discourse  of  man  or  in  the  infallible  voice  of 
God,  to  the  wejxknesa  of  our  apprehensions  there  should 
not  appear  irregularities,  contradictions,  and  antino- 
mies i*^  myself  could  show  a  catalogue  of  doubts,  never 
yet  imagined  nor  questioned,  aa  I  know,  which  are  not 
resolved  at  the  first  hearing  ;  not  fantastick  queries  or 
objections  of  air  ;  for  I  cannot  hear  of  atoms  in  divinity. 
I  can  read  the  history  of  the  pigeon  that  was  sent  out  of 
the  ark,  and  returned  no  more,  yet  not  question  how 
she  found  out  her  mate  that  was  left  behind  :  that 
Lazarus  was  raised  from  the  dead,  yet  not  demand 
where,  in  the  interim,  his  soul  awaited  ;  or  raise  a  law- 
case,  whether  his  heir  might  lawfully  detain  his  inherit- 
ance bequeathed  ujxm  him  by  his  death,  and  he,  though 
restored  to  life,  have  no  plea  or  title  unto  his  fonner 
poHsesKions.  Whether  Eve  was  framed  out  of  the  left 
side  of  Adam,  1  dispute  not ;  because  1  stand  not  yet 
assured  which  is  the  right  side  of  a  man  ;  or  whether 
there  be  any  nuch  distinction  in  nature.     That  she  wan 


32  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

edified  out  of  the  rib  of  Adam,  I  believe  ;  yet  raise  no 
question  who  shall  arise  with  that  rib  at  the  resurrection. 
Whether  Adam  was  an  hermaphrodite,  as  the  rabbins 
contend  upon  the  letter  of  the  text ;  because  it  is  con- 
trary to  reason,  there  should  be  an  hermaphrodite 
before  there  was  a  woman,  or  a  composition  of  two 
natures,  before  there  was  a  second  composed.  Likewise, 
whether  the  world  was  created  in  autumn,  summer,  or 
the  spring ;  because  it  was  created  in  them  all  :  for, 
whatsoever  sign  the  sun  possesseth,  those  four  seasons 
are  actually  existent.  It  is  the  nature  of  this  luminary  to 
distinguish  the  several  seasons  of  the  year  ;  all  which  it 
makes  at  one  time  in  the  whole  earth,  and  successively  in 
any  part  thereof.  There  are  a  bundle  of  curiosities,  not 
only  in  philosophy,  but  in  divinity,  proposed  and  discussed 
by  men  of  most  supposed  abilities,  which  indeed  are  not 
worthy  our  vacant  hours,  much  less  our  serious  studies. 
Pieces  oiily  fit  to  be  placed  in  Pantagruel's  library ,^^  or 
bound  up  with  Tartaratus,  De,  Modo  Gacandi.*  ^ 

Sect.  22. — These  are  niceties  that  become  not  those 
that  peruse  so  serious  a  mystery.  There  are  others 
more  generally  questioned,  and  called  to  the  bar,  yet, 
methinks,  of  an  easy  and  possible  truth. 

'Tis  ridiculous  to  put  off  or  down  the  general  flood 
of  Noah,  ia  that  particular  inundation  of  Deucalion. 3o 
That  there  was  a  deluge  once  seems  not  to  me  so  great 
a  miracle  as  that  there  is  not  one  always.  How  all  the 
kinds  of  creatures,  not  only  in  their  own  bulks,  but 
with  a  competency  of  food  and  sustenance,  might  be 
preserved  in  one  ark,  and  within  the  extent  of  three 
hundred  cubits,  to  a  reason  that  rightly  examines  it, 
will  appear  very  feasible.  There  is  another  secret,  not 
contained  in  the  Scripture,  which  is  more  hard  to  com- 

*  In  Rabelais. 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  33 

prehend,  and  put  the  honest  Fathers'  to  the  refuge  of  a 
miracle  ;  and  that  is,  not  only  how  the  distinct  pieces 
of  the  world,  and  divided  islands,  should  be  first  planted 
by  men,  but  inhabited  by  tigers,  panthers,  and  bears. 
How  America  abounded  with  beasts  of  prey,  and 
noxious  animals,  yet  contained  not  in  it  that  necessary 
creature,  a  horse,  is  very  strange.  By  what  passage 
those,  not  only  birds,  but  dangerous  and  unwelrome 
beasts,  come  over.  How  there  be  creatures  thcr'» 
(which  are  not  found  in  this  triple  continent).  All 
which  must  needs  be  strange  unto  us,  that  hold  but  one 
ark  ;  and  that  the  creatures  began  their  progress  from 
the  mountains  of  Ararat.  They  who,  to  salve  this, 
would  make  the  deluge  particular,  proceed  upon  a 
principle  that  I  can  no  way  grant ;  not  only  upon  the 
n^ative  of  Holy  Scriptures,  but  of  mine  o^\'n  reason, 
whereby  I  can  make  it  probable  that  the  world  was  as 
well  peopled  in  the  time  of  Noah  as  in  ours  ;  and 
fifteen  hundred  years,  to  people  the  world,  as  full  a 
time  for  them  as  four  thousand  years  since  have  been 
to  us.  There  are  other  assertions  and  common  tenets 
drawn  from  Scripture,  and  generally  believed  as  Scrip- 
ture, whereunto,  notwithstanding,  I  would  never  betray 
the  liberty  of  my  reason.  'Tis  a  paradox  to  me,  that 
Methusalem  Wiis  the  longest  lived  of  all  the  children  ot 
Adam  ;  and  no  man  will  be  able  to  prove  it  ;  when, 
from  tlie  process  of  the  text,  I  can  manifest  it  may  be 
otherwise.  That  Judas  perished  by  hanging  hmiself, 
there  is  no  certainty  in  Scripture  :  though,  in  one 
place,  it  seema  to  affirm  it,  and,  by  a  doubtful  word, 
iiath  given  occasion  to  translate*'  it  ;  yet,  in  another 
place,  in  a  more  punctual  description,  it  makes  it  im- 
probable, and  seems  to  overthrow  it.  That  our  fathers, 
after  the  flood,  erected  the  tower  of  Babel,  to  preserve 

O 


34  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

themselves  against  a  second  deluge,  is  generally  opin- 
ioned  and  believed  ;  yet  is  there  another  intention  of 
theirs  expressed  in  Scripture.  Besides,  it  is  improbable, 
from  the  circumstance  of  the  place  ;  that  is,  a  plain  in 
the  land  of  Sliinar.  These  are  no  points  of  faith  ;  and 
therefore  may  admit  a  free  dispute.  There  are  yet 
others,  and  those  familiarly  concluded  from  the  text, 
wherein  (under  favour)  I  see  no  consequence.  The 
church  of  Kome  confidently  proves  the  opinion  of 
tutelary  angels,  from  that  answer,  when  Peter  knocked 
at  the  door,  "  'Tis  not  he,  but  his  angel ; "  that  is,  might 
some  say,  his  messenger,  or  somebody  from  him  ;  for  so 
the  original  signifies  ;  and  is  as  likely  to  be  the  doubtful 
family^s  meaning.  This  exposition  I  once  suggested  to 
a  young  divine,  that  answered  upon  this  point ;  to 
which  I  remember  the  Franciscan  opponent  replied  no 
more,  but,  that  it  was  a  new,  and  no  authentick  inter- 
pretation. 

Bed.  23. — These  are  but  the  conclusions  and  fallible 
discoiu'ses  of  man  upon  the  word  of  God  ;  for  such  I  do 
believe  the  Holy  Scriptures  ;  yet,  were  it  of  man,  I 
could  not  choose  but  say,  it  was  the  singularest  and 
superlative  piece  that  hath  been  extant  since  the  creation. 
Were  I  a  pagan,  I  should  not  refrain  the  lecture  of  it ; 
and  cannot  but  commend  the  judgment  of  Ptolemy,  that 
thought  not  his  library  complete  without  it.  The 
Alcoran  of  the  Turks  (I  speak  without  prejudice)  is  an 
ill-composed  piece,  containing  in  it  vain  and  ridiculous 
errors  in  philosophy,  impossibilities,  fictions,  and  vanities 
beyond  laughter,  maintained  by  evident  and  open  so- 
phisms, the  policy  of  ignorance,  deposition  of  universities, 
and  banishment  of  learning.  That  hath  gotten  foot  by 
arms  and  violence  :  this,  without  a  blow,  hath  dis- 
seminated itself  through  the  whole  earth.     It  is  not 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  35 

unremarkable,  what  Pliilo  first  observed,  that  the  law 
of  Moses  continued  two  thousand  years  without  the 
least  alteration  ;  whereas,  we  see,  the  laws  of  other 
commonwealths  do  alter  with  occasions :  and  even  those, 
that  pretended  their  original  from  some  divinity,  to 
have  vanished  without  trace  or  memory.  I  believe, 
besides  Zoroaster,  there  were  divers  others  that  vrrit 
before  Moses  ;  who,  notwithstanding,  have  suffered  the 
common  fate  of  time.  Men's  works  have  an  age,  like 
themselves  ;  and  though  they  outlive  their  authors,  yet 
have  they  a  stint  and  period  to  their  duration.  This 
only  is  a  work  too  hard  for  the  teeth  of  time,  and  cannot 
perish  but  in  the  general  flames,  when  all  things  shall 
confess  their  ashes. 

Sict.  24. — I  have  heard  some  with  deep  sighs  lament 
the  lost  lines  of  Cicero ;  others  with  as  many  groans 
deplore  the  combustion  of  the  library  of  Alexandria  :'* 
for  my  own  part,  1  think  there  be  too  many  in  the 
world  ;  and  could  with  patience  behold  the  urn  and 
ashes  of  the  Vatican,  could  I,  with  a  few  others,  recover 
the  perished  leaves  of  Solomon.  I  would  not  omit  a 
copy  of  Enoch's  pillars,**  had  they  many  nearer  authors 
than  Josephus,  or  did  not  relish  somewhat  of  the  fable. 
Some  men  have  written  more  than  others  have  spoken. 
Pineda**  quotes  more  authors,  in  one  work,*  than  are 
necessary  in  a  whole  world.  Of  tliose  three  great  inven- 
tions in  (jermauy,M  there  are  two  which  are  not  without 
their  incommodities,  and  'tis  disputable  whether  they 
exceed  not  their  use  and  commodities.  'Tis  not  a  melan- 
choly uiinam  of  my  own,  but  the  desires  of  better  heads, 
tliat  there  were  a  general  synod — not  to  unite  the  incom- 
Tiatible  difference  of  religion,  but, — for  the  benefit  of 

•  I'ineda,  in  hia  "Monarchia  Ecclcsiaslica,"  quotes  one 
tbouAaud  aud  furty  autLora. 


36  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

learning,  to  reduce  it,  as  it  lay  at  first,  in  a  few  and  solid 
authors  ;  and  to  condemn  to  tlie  fire  those  swarms  and 
millions  of  rhapsodies,  begotten  only  to  distract  and 
abuse  the  weaker  judgments  of  scholars,  and  to  maintain 
the  trade  and  mystery  of  typographers. 

Bed.  25. — I  cannot  but  wonder  with  what  exception 
the  Samaritans  could  confine  their  belief  to  the  Penta- 
teuch, or  five  books  of  Moses.  I  am  ashamed  at  the 
rabbinical  interpretation  of  the  Jews  upon  the  Old 
Testament,^''  as  much  as  their  defection  from  the  New  : 
and  truly  it  is  beyond  wonder,  how  that  contemptible 
and  degenerate  issue  of  Jacob,  once  so  devoted  to  ethnick 
su.perstition,  and  so  easily  seduced  to  the  idolatry  of 
their  neighbours,  should  now,  in  such  an  obstinate  and 
peremptory  belief,  adhere  unto  their  own  doctrine, 
expect  impossibilities,  and  in  the  face  and  eye  of  the 
church,  persist  without  the  least  hope  of  conversion. 
This  is  a  vice  in  them,  that  were  a  virtue  in  us  :  for 
obstmacy  in  a  bad  cause  is  but  constancy  in  a  good  : 
and  herein  I  must  accuse  those  of  my  own  religion  ;  for 
there  is  not  any  of  such  a  fugitive  faith,  such  an  unstable 
belief,  as  a  Christian  ;  none  that  do  so  often  transform 
themselves,  not  vmto  several  shapes  of  Christianity,  and 
of  the  same  species,  but  imtomore  imnatural  and  contrary 
forms  of  Jew  and  Mohammedan  ;  that,  from  the  name 
of  Saviour,  can  condescend  to  the  bare  term  of  prophet : 
and,  from  an  old  belief  that  he  is  come,  fall  to  a  new 
expectation  of  his  coming.  It  is  the  promise  of  Christ, 
to  make  us  all  one  flock  :  but  how  and  when  this  union 
shall  be,  is  as  obscure  to  me  as  the  last  day.  Of  those 
four  members  of  religion  we  hold  a  slender  propor- 
tion. ^8  There  are,  I  confess,  some  new  additions  ;  yet 
small  to  those  which  accrue  to  our  adversaries  ;  and 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  37 

those  only  drawn  from  the  revolt  of  pagans  ;  men  but 
of  negative  impieties  ;  and  such  as  deny  Christ,  but 
because  they  never  heard  of  hira.     But  the  religion  of 
the  Jew  is  expressly  against  the  Christian,  and  the 
Mohammedan  against  both  ;  for  the  Turk,  in  the  bulk 
he  now  stands,  is  beyond  all  hope  of  conversion  :  if  he 
fall  asimder,  there  may  be  conceived  hopes  ;  but  not 
without  strong  improbabilities.     The  Jew  is  obstinate  in 
all  fortunes  ;  the  persecution  of  fifteen  hundred  years 
hath  but  confirmed  them  in  their  error.     They  have 
already  endured  whatsoever  may  be  inflicted  :  and  have 
suffered,  in  a  bad  cause,  even  to  the  condemnation  of 
their  enemies.     Persecution  is  a  bad  and  indirect  way 
to  plant  religion.     It  hath  been  the  unhappy  method  of 
angry  devotions,  not  only  to  confirm  honest  religion,  but 
wicked  heresies  and  extravagant  opinions.     It  Avas  the 
first  stone  and  basis  of  our  faitli.     Kone  can  more  justly 
boast  of  persecutions,  and  glory  in  the  number  and 
valour  of  martyrs.     For,  to  speak  properly,  those  are 
true  and  almost  only  examples  of  fortitude.     Those  that 
are  fetched  from  the  field,  or  draA\Ti  from  the  actions  of 
the  camp,  are  not  ofttimes  so  truly  precedents  of  valour 
as  audacity,  and,  at  the  best,  attain  but  to  some  bastard 
piece  of  fortitude.     If  we  shall   strictly  examine  the 
cijcumstances  and  requisites  which  Aristotle  requires  ^* 
to  true  and  perfect  valour,  we  shall  find  the  name  only 
in  liis  master,  .tUexander,  and  as  little  in  that  Roman 
worthy,  Julius   Cxsar  ;  and  if  any,  in  tliat  easy  ami 
active  way,  have  done  so  nobly  a.s  to  desen-e  tliat  name, 
yet,  in  the  pa-ssive  and  more  terrible  piece,  these  have 
Burpa-ssed,  and  in  a  more  heroical  way  may  claim,  the 
liouour  of  that  title.     'Tis  not  in  the  power  of  every 
honest   faith   to  proceed  thus  fur,  or  pass  to   heaven 


38  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

through  the  flames.  Every  one  hath  it  not  in  that  full 
measure,  nor  in  so  audacious  and  resolute  a  temper,  as 
to  endure  those  terrible  tests  and  trials  ;  who,  notwith- 
standing, in  a  peaceable  way,  do  truly  adore  their 
Saviour,  and  have,  no  doubt,  a  faith  acceptable  in  the 
eyes  of  God. 

Scd.  26. — Now,  as  all  that  die  in  the  war  are  not 
termed  soldiers,  so  neither  can  I  properly  term  all  those 
that  suffer  in  matters  of  religion,  martyrs.  The  council 
of  Constance  condemns  John  Huss  for  a  heretick  ;  ^^ 
the  stories  of  his  own  party  style  him  a  martyr.  He 
must  needs  offend  the  divinity  of  both,  that  says  he 
was  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  There  are  many 
(questionless)  canonized  on  earth,  that  shall  never  be 
saints  in  heaven ;  and  have  their  names  in  histories  and 
martyrologies,  who,  in  the  eyes  of  God,  are  not  so  per- 
fect martyrs  as  was  that  wise  heathen  Socrates,  that 
suffered  on  a  fundamental  point  of  religion, — the  unity 
of  God.  I  have  often  pitied  the  miserable  bishop  *i 
that  suffered  in  the  cause  of  antipodes  ;  yet  cannot 
choose  but  accuse  him  of  as  much  madness,  for  exposing 
his  living  on  such  a  trifle,  as  those  of  ignorance  and 
folly,  that  condemned  him.  I  think  my  conscience  will 
not  give  me  the  lie,  if  I  say  there  are  not  many  extant, 
that,  in  a  noble  way,  fear  the  face  of  death  less  than 
myself ;  yet,  from  the  moral  duty  I  owe  to  the  com- 
mandment of  God,  and  the  natural  respect  that  I  tender 
unto  the  conservation  of  my  essence  and  being,  I  would 
not  perish  upon  a  ceremony,  politick  points,  or  indiffer- 
ency  :  nor  is  my  belief  of  that  untractable  temper  as, 
not  to  bow  at  their  obstacles,  or  connive  at  matters 
wherein  there  are  not  manifest  impieties.  The  leaven, 
therefore,  and  ferment  of  all,  not  only  civil,  but  re- 
ligious, actions,  is  wisdom  ;  without  which,  to  commit 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  39 

ourselves  to  the  flames  is  homicide,  and  (I  fear)  but  to 
pass  through  one  fire  into  another. 

Stct.  27. — That  miracles  are  cea.sed,  I  can  neither 
prove  nor  absolutely  deny,  much  less  define  the  time 
iind  period  of  their  cessation.  That  they  survived 
Christ  is  manifest  upon  record  of  Scripture  :  that  they 
outlived  the  apostles  also,  and  were  revived  at  the  con- 
version of  nations,  many  years  after,  we  cannot  deny,  if 
we  shall  not  question  those  writers  whose  testimonies 
we  do  not  controvert  in.  points  that  make  for  our  own 
opinions :  therefore,  that  may  have  some  truth  in  it,  that 
is  reported  by  the  Jesuits  of  their  miracles  in  the  Indies. 
I  could  Ansh  it  were  true,  or  had  any  other  testimony 
than  their  own.  pens.  Tliey  may  easily  believe  those 
miracles  abroad,  who  daily  conceive  a  greater  at  home 
— the  transmutation  of  those  visible  elements  into  the 
body  and  blood  of  our  Saviour  ; — for  the  conversion  of 
water  into  wine,  which  he  wrought  in  Cana,  or,  what 
the  devil  would  have  had  him  done  in  the  Avildemess, 
of  stones  into  bread,  compared  to  this,  will  scarce  deserve 
the  name  of  a  miracle  :  though,  indeed,  to  speak  pro- 
perly, there  is  not  one  miracle  greater  than  another  ; 
they  being  the  extraordinary  effects  of  the  hand  of  God, 
to  which  all  things  are  of  an  equal  facility  ;  and  to 
create  tlie  world  as  easy  as  one  single  creature.  For 
this  is  also  a  miracle ;  not  only  to  produce  effects 
against  or  above  nature,  but  before  nature  ;  and  to 
create  nature,  as  great  a  miracle  as  to  contradict  or 
transcend  her.  We  do  too  narrowly  define  the  power 
of  God,  restniining  it  to  our  capacities.  I  hold  that 
God  can  do  all  things  :  how  he  sliould  work  contradic- 
tions, I  do  nfit  understand,  yet  dare  not,  therefore,  deny. 
I  cannot  see  why  the  angel  of  God  should  question 
Ewlras  to  recall  the  time  past,  if  it  were  beyond  hie 


40  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

owu  power  ;  or  that  God  should  pose  mortality  in  that 
which  he  was  not  able  to  perform  himseK.  I  wiU  not 
eay  that  God  cannot,  but  he  will  not,  perform  many 
things,  which  we  plainly  affirm  he  cannot.  This,  I  am 
sure,  is  the  mannerliest  proposition  ;  wherein,  notwith- 
standing, I  hold  no  paradox  :  for,  strictly,  his  power  is 
the  same  with  his  will ;  and  they  both,  with  all  the  rest, 
do  make  but  one  God. 

Sad.  28. — Therefore,  that  miracles  have  been,  I  do 
believe  ;  that  they  may  yet  be  wrought  by  the  living,  I 
do  not  deny  :  but  have  no  confidence  in  those  which  are 
fathered  on  the  dead.  And  this  hath  ever  made  me 
suspect  the  efficacy  of  rehcks,  to  examine  the  bones, 
question  the  habits  and  appertenances  of  saints,  and 
even  of  Christ  himself.  I  cannot  conceive  why  the 
cross  that  Helena  ^^  found,  and  whereon  Christ  himself 
died,  should  have  power  to  restore  others  unto  life.  I 
excuse  not  Constantine  from  a  fall  off  his  horse,  or  a 
mischief  from  his  enemies,  upon  the  wearing  those  naUs 
on  his  bridle  wliich  our  Saviour  bore  upon  the  cross  in 
his  hands.  I  compute  among  'pite.  frandes,  nor  many 
degrees  before  consecrated  swords  and  roses,  that  which 
Baldwin,  king  of  Jerusalem,  returned  the  Genoese  for 
their  costs  and  pains  in  his  wars  ;  to  wit,  the  ashes  of 
John,  the  Baptist.  Those  that  hold,  the  sanctity  of  their 
souls  doth  leave  behind  a  tincture  and  sacred  faculty 
on  their  bodies,  speak  natujally  of  miracles,  and  do  not 
salve  the  doubt.  Now,  one  reason  I  tender  so  little 
devotion  unto  relicks  is,  I  think  the  slender  and  doubt- 
ful respect  I  have  always  held  unto  antiquities.  For 
that,  indeed,  which  I  admire,  is  far  before  antiquity ; 
that  is.  Eternity ;  and  that  is,  God  himself  ;  who,  though 
he  be  styled  the  Ancient  of  Days,  cannot  receive  the 
adjunct  of  antiquity,  who  was  before  the  world,  and 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  41 

Bhall  be  after  it,  yet  is  not  older  than  it :  for,  in  his 
vears  there  is  no  cliniacler  :  ^^  his  duration  is  eternity  ; 
and  far  more  venerable  than  antiquity. 

Sect.  29. — But,  above  all  things,  I  wonder  how  the 
curiosity  of  wiser  heads  could  pass  that  great  and  indis- 
putable niiracle,  the  cessation  of  oracles  ;  and  in  what 
swoon  their  reasons  lay,  to  content  themselves,  and  sit 
down  with  such  a  far-fetched  and  ridiculous  reason  as 
Plutarch  allegeth  for  it.-**  The  Jews,  that  can  believe 
the  supernatural  solstice  of  the  sun  in  the  days  of 
Joshua,  have  yet  the  impudence  to  deny  the  eclipse, 
which  every  pagan  confessed,  at  his  death ;  but  for 
this,  it  is  evident  beyond  all  contradiction  :  the  devil 
himself  confessed  it.  *  Certainly  it  is  not  a  wanant- 
able  curiosity,  to  examine  the  verity  of  Scripture  by  the 
concordance  of  human  liistory  ;  or  seek  to  confirm  the 
chronicle  of  He.'^ter  or  Daniel  by  the  authority  of  Meg- 
asthenes**  or  Herodotus.  I  confess,  I  have  had  an  un- 
liappy  curiosity  this  way,  till  I  laughed  myself  out  of 
it  with  a  piece  of  Justin,  where  he  delivers  that  the 
children  of  Israel,  for  being  scabbed,  were  banished 
out  of  Egypt.  And  truly,  since  I  have  understood  the 
occurrences  of  the  world,  and  know  in  what  counterfeit- 
ing shapes  and  deceitful  visards  times  present  represent 
on  the  stage  things  past,  I  do  believe  them  little  more 
than  things  to  come.  Some  have  been  of  my  own 
opinion,  and  endeavoured  to  ^v^ite  the  history  of  their 
own  lives  ;  wherein  Moses  hath  outgone  them  all,  and 
left  not  only  the  story  of  his  life,  but,  as  some  will  have 
it,  of  hi.s  death  also. 

Sect.  30. — It  is  a  riddle  to  me,  how  this  story  of 
oracles  hath  not  wormed  out  of  the  world  that  doubtful 
conceit  of  spirits  and  witches  ;  how  so  many  learned 
*  In  his  oracle  to  AugUHtuH. 


42  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

heads  should  so  far  forget  their  metaphysicks,  and 
destroy  the  ladder  and  scale  of  creatures,  as  to  question 
the  existence  of  spirits  ;  for  my  part.,  I  have  ever  be- 
lieved, and  do  now  know,  that  there  are  witches.  They 
that  doubt  of  these  do  not  only  deny  them,  but  spirits  : 
and  are  obliquely,  and  upon  consequence,  a  sort,  not  of 
infidels,  but  atheists.  Those  that,  to  confute  their  in- 
credvility,  desire  to  see  apparitions,  shall,  questionless, 
never  behold  any,  nor  have  the  power  to  be  so  much  as 
witches.  The  devil  hath  made  them  already  in  a  heresy 
as  capital  as  witchcraft ;  and  to  appear  to  them  were 
but  to  convert  them.  Of  all  the  delusions  wherewith 
he  deceives  mortality,  there  is  not  any  that  puzzleth 
me  more  than  the  legerdemain  of  changelings.**  I  do 
not  credit  those  transfoi-mations  of  reasonable  creatures 
into  beasts,  or  that  the  devil  hath  a  power  to  transpeciate 
a  man  into  a  horse,  who  tempted  Christ  (as  a  trial  of  his 
divinity)  to  convert  but  stones  into  bread.  I  could 
believe  that  spirits  use  with  man  the  act  of  carnality  ; 
and  that  in  both  sexes.  I  conceive  they  may  assume, 
steal,  or  contrive  a  body,  wherein  there  may  be  action 
enough  to  content  decrepit  lust,  or  passion  to  satisfy 
more  active  veneries  ;  yet,  in  both,  without  a  possibility 
of  generation  :  and  therefore  that  opinion,  that  Anti- 
christ should  be  bom  of  the  tribe  of  Dan,  by  conjimc- 
tion  with  the  devil,  is  ridiculous,  and  a  conceit  fitter 
for  a  rabbin  than  a  Christian.  I  hold  that  the  devil 
doth  really  possess  some  men  ;  the  spirit  of  melancholy 
others  ;  the  spirit  of  delusion  others  :  that,  as  the  devil 
is  concealed  and  denied  by  some,  so  God  and  good 
angels  are  pretended  by  others,  whereof  the  late  defec- 
tion of  the  maid  of  Germany  hath  left  a  pregnant 
example.*^ 
Stct.  31. — Again,  I  believe  that  all  that  use  sorceries. 


RELIGIO  MEDICI,  43 

incantations,  and  spells,  are  not  witches,  or,  as  we  term 
them,  magicians.  I  conceive  there  is  a  traditional 
magick,  not  learned  immediately  from  the  devil,  but 
at  second  hand  from  his  scholars,  who,  having  once  the 
secret  betrayed,  are  able  and  do  empirically  practise 
without  his  advice  ;  they  both  proceeding  upon  the 
principles  of  nature  ;  where  actives,  aptly  conjoined  to 
disposed  passives,  will,  under  any  master,  produce  their 
effects.  Thus,  I  think,  at  first,  a  great  part  of  philosophy 
was  witchcraft  ;  which,  being  afterward  derived  to  one 
another,  proved  but  philosophy,  and  was  indeed  no 
more  than  the  honest  effects  of  nature  : — what  invented 
by  tts,  is  philosophy  ;  learned  from  him,  is  magick. 
We  do  surely  owe  the  discovery  of  many  secrets  to  the 
discovery  of  good  and  bad  angels.  I  could  never  pass 
that  sentence  of  Paracelsus  Tvdthout  an  asterisk,  or  an- 
notation :  "  ascendens*  constellatum  multa  revelat  qi((pren- 
tibus  raagnalia  nature,  i.e.  opera  Dei."  I  do  think  that 
many  mysteries  ascribed  to  our  own  inventions  have 
l>een  tlie  corteoua  revelations  of  spirits  ;  for  those  noble 
essences  in  heaven  bear  a  friendly  regard  unto  their 
fellow-nature  on  earth ;  and  therefore  believe  that 
those  many  prodigies  and  ominous  prognosticks,  which 
forerun  the  ruins  of  states,  princes,  and  private  persons, 
are  the  charitable  premonitions  of  good  angels,  which 
more  careless  inquiries  term  but  the  effects  of  chance 
and  nature. 

Sect.  32. — Now,  besides  these  particular  and  divided 
spirits,  there  may  be  (for  aught  I  know)  a  universal  and 
common  spirit  to  the  whole  world.  It  was  the  opinion 
of  Plato,  and  is  yet  of  the  hermetical  philosophers. 
If  there  be  a  common  nature,  that  unites  and  ties  the 

*  Thereby  ii  meant  our  good  angel,  appointed  us  fr>m  our 
nativity. 


44  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

scattered  and  divided  individuals  into  one  species,  why 
may  there  not  be  one  that  unites  them  all  ?  However, 
I  am  sure  there  is  a  common  spirit,  that  plays  within 
us,  yet  makes  no  part  in  us  ;  and  that  is,  the  spirit  of 
God  ;  the  fire  and  scintillation  of  that  noble  and  mighty 
essence,  which  is  the  life  and  radical  heat  of  spirits,  and 
those  essences  that  know  not  the  virtue  of  the  sun  ;  a  fire 
quite  contrary  to  the  fire  of  hell.  This  is  that  gentle 
heat  that  brooded  on  the  waters,  and  in  six  days  hatched 
the  world  ;  this  is  that  irradiation  that  dispels  the  mists 
of  hell,  the  clouds  of  horror,  fear,  soitow,  despair  ;  and 
preserves  the  region  of  the  mind  in  serenity.  Whatso- 
ever feels  not  the  warm  gale  and  gentle  ventilation  of 
this  spirit  (though  I  feel  his  pulse),  I  dare  not  say  he 
lives  ;  for  truly  without  this,  to  me,  there  is  no  heat 
under  the  tropick  ;  nor  any  light,  though  I  dwelt  in 
the  body  of  the  sun. 


"  As  when  the  labouring  sun  hath  wrought  his  track 
Up  to  the  top  of  lofty  Cancer's  back, 
The  icy  ocean  cracks,  the  frozen  pole 
Thaws  with  the  heat  of  the  celestial  coal ; 
So  when  thy  absent  beams  begin  t'  impart 
Again  a  solstice  on  my  frozen  heart, 
My  winter 's  o'er,  my  drooping  spirits  sing, 
Aad  every  part  revives  into  a  spring. 
But  if  thy  quickening  beams  a  while  decline, 
And  v,-ith  their  light  bless  not  this  orb  of  mine, 
A  chilly  frost  surpriseth  every  member, 
And  in  the  midst  of  June  I  feel  December. 
Oh  how  this  earthly  temper  doth  debase 
The  noble  soul,  in  this  her  humble  place ! 
Whose  wingy  nature  ever  doth  aspire 
To  reach  that  place  whence  first  it  took  its  fire. 
These  flames  I  feel,  which  in  my  heart  do  dwell, 
Are  not  thy  beams,  but  take  their  fire  from  hell. 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  45 

Oh  quench  them  all !  and  let  thy  Light  divine 
lie  as  the  sun  to  tliis  poor  orb  of  mine  ! 
And  to  thy  sacred  Spirit  convert  those  fires, 
"SVTiose  earthly  fumes  choke  my  devout  aspires  !  " 


Std.  33. — Therefore,  for  spirits,  I  am  so  far  from 
denying  their  existence,  that  I  could  easUy  believe,  that 
not  only  whole  countries,  but  particular  persons,  have 
their  tutelary  and  guardian  angels.  It  is  not  a  new 
opinion  of  the  Chmch  of  Home,  but  an  old  one  of 
Pythagoras  and  Plato  :  there  is  no  heresy  in  it :  and  if 
not  manifestly  defined  in  Scripture,  yet  it  is  an  opinion 
of  a  good  and  wholesome  use  in  the  course  and  actions 
of  a  man's  life  ;  and  would  serve  as  an  hypothesis  to  salve 
many  doubts,  whereof  common  philosophy  affordeth  no 
solution.  Now,  if  you  demand  my  opinion  and  meta- 
physicks  of  their  natures,  I  confess  them  very  shallow  ; 
most  of  them  in  a  negative  way,  like  that  of  God  ;  or 
in  a  comparative,  between  ourselves  and  fellow- creatures  : 
for  there  is  in  this  universe  a  stair,  or  manifest  scale,  of 
creatures,  rising  not  disorderly,  or  in  confusion,  but  with 
a  comely  method  and  proportion.  Between  creatures  of 
mere  existence  and  things  of  life  there  is  a  large  dispro- 
portion of  nature:  between  plants  and  animals,  or  creatvu-es 
of  sense,  a  wider  difference  :  between  them  and  man,  a 
far  greater :  and  if  the  proportion  hold  on,  between  man 
and  angels  there  should  be  yet  a  greater.  We  do  not 
comprehend  their  natures,  who  retain  the  first  defmition 
of  Porphyry  ;^8  and  distinguish  them  from  ourselves  by 
immortality  :  for,  before  his  fall,  man  also  was  im- 
mortal :  yet  must  we  needs  afiirm  that  he  had  a  different 
essence  from  the  angels.  Having,  therefore,  no  certain 
knowledge  of  their  nature,  'tis  no  bad  method  of  the 
Bchools,  wliateoever  perfection  we  find  obscurely  in  our- 


46  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

selves,  in  a  more  complete  and  absolute  way  to  ascribe 
unto  them.  I  believe  they  have  an  extemporary  know- 
ledge, and,  upon  the  first  motion  of  their  reason,  do 
what  we  cannot  without  study  or  deliberation :  that 
they  know  things  by  their  forms,  and  define,  by  speci- 
fical  difference  what  we  describe  by  accidents  and  pro- 
perties :  and  therefore  probabilities  to  us  may  be 
demonstrations  unto  them  :  that  they  have  knowledge 
not  only  of  the  specifical,  but  numerical,  forms  of  in- 
dividuals, and  understand  by  what  reserved  difference 
each  siQgle  hypostatis  (besides  the  relation  to  its  species) 
becomes  its  numerical  self:  that,  as  the  soul  hath  a 
power  to  move  the  body  it  informs,  so  there 's  a  faculty 
to  move  any,  though  inform  none  :  ours  upon  restraint 
of  time,  place,  and  distance :  but  that  invisible  hand 
that  conveyed  Habakkuk  to  the  lion's  den,  or  Philip  to 
Azotus,  infrrngeth  this  rule,  and  hath  a  secret  convey- 
ance, wherewith  mortality  is  not  acquainted.  If  they 
have  that  intuitive  knowledge,  whereby,  as  in  reflection, 
they  behold  the  thoughts  of  one  another,  I  cannot 
peremptorily  deny  but  they  know  a  great  part  of  ours. 
They  that,  to  refute  the  invocation  of  saints,  have  denied 
that  they  have  any  knowledge  of  our  affairs  below, 
have  proceeded  too  far,  and  must  pardon  my  opinion, 
till  I  can  thoroughly  answer  that  piece  of  Scripture, 
"  At  the  conversion  of  a  sinner,  the  angels  in  heaven 
rejoice."  I  cannot,  with  those  in  that  great  father,*^ 
securely  interpret  the  work  of  the  first  day,  jiat  lux,  to 
the  creation  of  angels ;  though  I  confess  there  is  not 
any  creature  that  hath  so  near  a  glimpse  of  their  nature 
as  light  in  the  sun  and  elements:  we  style  it  a  bare 
accident;  but,  where  it  subsists  alone,  'tis  a  spiritual 
substance,  and  may  be  an  angel :  in  brief,  conceive  light 
invisible,  and  that  is  a  spirit. 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  47 

Sect.  34. — These  are  certainly  the  magisterial  and 
masterpieces  of  the  Creator  ;  the  flower,  or,  as  we  may- 
say,  the  best  part  of  nothing ;  actually  existing,  what 
\i'i  are  but  in  hopes,  and  probability.  We  are  only  that 
amphibious  piece,  between  a  corporeal  and  a  spiritual 
essence  ;  that  middle  form,  that  links  those  two  to- 
gether, and  makes  good  the  method  of  God  and  nature, 
that  jumps  not  from  extremes,  but  unites  the  incom- 
patible distances  by  some  middle  and  participating 
natures.  That  we  are  the  breath  and  similitude  of  God, 
it  is  indisputable,  and  upon  record  of  Holy  Scripture  : 
but  to  call  ourselves  a  microcosm,  or  little  world,  I 
thought  it  only  a  pleasant  trope  of  rhetorick,  till  my 
near  judgment  and  second  thoughts  told  me  there  was 
a  rwd  truth  therein.  For,  first  we  are  a  rude  mass,  and 
in  the  rank  of  creatures  which  only  are,  and  have  a  dull 
kind  of  being,  not  yet  privileged  with  life,  or  preferred 
to  sense  or  reason  ;  next  we  live  the  life  of  plants,  the 
life  of  animals,  the  life  of  men,  and  at  last  the  life  of 
.''pirita  :  running  on,  in  one  mysterious  nature,  those  five 
kinds  of  existencies,  which  comprehend  the  creatures, 
not  only  of  the  world,  but  of  the  universe.  Thus  is 
man  that  great  and  true  amphibiuvi,  whose  nature  is 
disposed  to  live,  not  only  like  other  creatures  in  divers 
elements,  but  in  divided  and  distinguished  worlds  ;  for 
though  there  be  but  one  to  sense,  there  are  two  to  reason, 
the  one  visible,  tlie  other  invisible  ;  whereof  Moses 
seemB  to  have  left  description,  and  of  the  other  so 
obscurely,  that  some  parts  tliereof  are  yet  in  controversy. 
And  truly,  for  the  first  chapters  of  Genesis,  I  must  con- 
fess a  great  deal  of  obscurity  ;  though  divines  have,  to 
the  power  of  human  reason,  endeavoured  to  make  all 
go  in  a  literal  meaning,  yet  those  allegorical  inteqireta- 
tiona  are  also  probable,  and  perhaps  the  mystical  method 


48  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

of  Moses,  bred  up  in  the  hieroglypliical  schools  of  the 
Egyptians. 

Se,ct.  35. — Now  for  that  immaterial  world,  methinks 
we  need  not  wander  so  far  as  the  first  moveable  ;  for, 
even  in  this  material  fabrick,  the  spirits  walk  as  freely 
exempt  from  the  affection  of  time,  place,  and  motion,  as 
beyond  the  extremest  circumference.  Do  but  extract 
from  the  corpulency  of  bodies,  or  resolve  things  beyond 
their  first  matter,  and  you  discover  the  habitation  of 
angels  ;  which  if  I  call  the  ubiquitary  and  omnipresent 
essence  of  God,  I  hope  I  shall  not  offend  divinity  :  for, 
before  the  creation  of  the  world,  God  was  really  all 
things.  For  the  angels  he  created  no  new  world,  or 
determinate  mansion,  and  therefore  they  are  everywhere 
where  is  his  essence,  and  do  live,  at  a  distance  even,  in 
himself.  That  God  made  all  things  for  man,  is  in  some 
sense  true ;  yet,  not  so  far  as  to  subordinate  the  creation 
of  those  purer  creatures  unto  ours  ;  though,  as  minister- 
ing spirits,  they  do,  and  are  willing  to  fulfil  the  will  of 
God  in  these  lower  and  sublunary  affairs  of  man.  God 
made  all  things  for  himself;  and  it  is  impossible  he 
should  make  them  for  any  other  end  than  his  own  glory: 
it  is  all  he  can  receive,  and  all  that  is  without  himself. 
For,  honour  being  an  external  adjunct,  and  in  the 
honourer  rather  than  in  the  person  honoured,  it  was 
necessary  to  make  a  creature,  from  whom  he  might  re- 
ceive this  homage  :  and  that  is,  in  the  other  world, 
angels,  in  this,  man  ;  which  when  we  neglect,  we  forget 
the  very  end  of  our  creation,  and  may  justly  provoke 
God,  not  only  to  repent  that  he  hath  made  the  world, 
but  that  he  hath  sworn  he  would  not  destroy  it.  That 
there  is  but  one  world,  is  a  conclusion  of  faith ;  Aristotle 
with  all  his  philosophy  hath  not  been  able  to  prove  it : 
and  as  weakly  that  the  world  was  eternal ;  that  dispute 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  49 

much  troubled  the  pen  of  the  philosophers,  but  Moeee 
tlecided  that  question,  and  all  is  salved  with  the 
new  term  of  a  creation, — that  is,  a  production  of  some- 
thing out  of  nothing.  And  what  is  that  ? — whatsoever 
is  opposite  to  something  ;  or,  more  exactly,  that  which 
is  truly  contrary  unto  God  :  for  he  only  is  ;  all  others 
have  an  existence  with  dependency,  and  are  something 
but  by  a  distinction.  And  herein  is  divinity  conformant 
unto  pliilosophy,  and  generation  not  only  founded  on 
contrarieties,  but  also  creation.  God,  being  all  things, 
is  contrary  unto  nothing  ;  out  of  which  were  made  all 
things,  and  so  nothing  became  something,  and  omneity  ^ 
informed  nullity  into  an  essence. 

Btd.  36. — The  whole  creation  is  a  mystery,  and  par- 
ticularly that  of  man.  At  the  blast  of  his  mouth  were 
the  rest  of  the  creatures  made  ;  and  at  his  bare  word 
they  started  out  of  nothing  :  but  in  the  frame  of  man 
(as  the  text  describes  it)  he  played  the  sensible  operator, 
and  seemed  not  so  much  to  create  as  make  him.  When 
he  had  separated  the  materials  of  other  creatures,  there 
consequently  resulted  a  form  and  soul ;  but,  having 
raised  the  walls  of  man,  he  was  driven  to  a  second  and 
harder  creation, — of  a  substance  like  himself,  an  incor- 
ruptible and  immortal  soul.  For  these  two  affections 
we  have  the  philosophy  and  opinion  of  the  heathens, 
the  flat  affirmative  of  Plato,  and  not  a  negative  from 
Ariiitotle.  There  is  another  scruple  cast  iu  by  tliviuity 
concerning  its  production,  much  disputed  in  the  German 
auditories,  and  with  that  indiflerency  and  equality  of 
arguments,  as  leave  the  controversy  undetennined.  I 
am  not  of  Paracelsus's  mind,  that  boldly  delivers  a  re- 
ceipt to  make  a  man  without  conjunction  ;  yet  cannot 
but  wonder  at  the  multitude  of  heads  that  do  deny 
traduction,  having  no  other  arginiicnt  to  confirm   their 

u 


so  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

belief  than  that  rhetorical  sentence  and  antimetathesis  si 
of  Augustine,  "  creando  infunditur,  infundendo  creatur." 
Either  opinion  will  consist  well  enough  with  religion  : 
yet  I  should  rather  incline  to  this,  did  not  one  objection 
iiaunt  me,  not  wrung  from  speculations  and  subtleties, 
but  from  common  sense  and  observation  ;  not  pick'd 
from  the  leaves  of  any  author,  but  bred  amongst  the 
weeds  and  tares  of  my  o-mi  braia.  And  this  is  a  con- 
clusion from  the  equivocal  and  monstrous  productions 
in  the  copulation  of  a  man  with  a  beast :  for  if  the  soul 
of  man  be  not  transmitted  and  transfused  in  the  seed  of 
the  parents,  why  are  not  those  productions  merely 
beasts,  but  have  also  an  impression  and  tincture  of 
reason  in  as  high  a  measure,  as  it  can  evidence  itself  in 
those  improper  organs  ?  Nor,  truly,  can  I  peremptorily 
deny  that  the  soul,  in  this  her  sublunary  estate,  is 
wholly,  and  in  all  acceptions,  inorganical :  but  that, 
for  the  performance  of  her  ordinary  actions,  is  required 
not  only  a  symmetry  and  proper  disposition  of  organs, 
but  a  crasis  and  temper  correspondent  to  its  operations  ; 
yet  is  not  this  mass  of  flesh  and  visible  structure  the 
instrument  and  proper  corpse  of  the  soul,  but  rather  of 
sense,  and  that  the  hand  of  reason.  In  our  study  of 
anatomy  there  is  a  mass  of  mysterious  philosophy,  and 
such  as  reduced  the  very  heathens  to  divinity ;  yet, 
amongst  all  those  rare  discoveries  and  curious  pieces  I 
iind  in  the  fabrick  of  man,  I  do  not  so  much  content 
myself,  as  in  that  I  find  not,— that  is,  no  organ  or 
instrument  for  the  rational  soul ;  for  in  the  brain, 
which  we  term  the  seat  of  reason,  there  is  not  anything 
of  moment  more  than  I  can  discover  in  the  crany  of  a 
beast :  and  this  is  a  sensible  and  no  inconsiderable 
argimient  of  the  inorganity  of  the  soul,  at  least  in  that 
sense  we  usually  so  conceive  it.     Thus  we  are  men,  and 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  5 1 

we  know  not  how  ;  there  is  somethinp;  in  us  that  can 
be  •nithout  us,  and  will  be  after  us,  though  it  is  strange 
that  it  hath  uo  history  what  it  was  before  us,  nor  cannot 
tell  how  it  entered  in  us. 

Bed.  37. — Now,  for  these  walls  of  flesh,  wherein  the 
eoul  doth  seem  to  be  immured  before  the  resurrection, 
it  is  nothing  but  an  elemental  composition,  and  a 
fabrick  that  must  fall  to  ashes.  "  All  flesh  is  grass,"  is 
not  only  metaphorically,  but  literally,  true  ;  for  all 
those  creatures  we  behold  are  but  the  herbs  of  the  field, 
digested  into  flesh  in  them,  or  more  remotely  camified 
in  ourselves.  Nay,  further,  we  arc  what  we  all  abhor, 
anthropophagi,  and  cannilials,  devourersnot  only  of  men, 
but  of  ourselves ;  and  that  not  in  an  allegory  but  a 
positive  truth  :  for  all  this  mass  of  flesh  which  we  be- 
hold, came  in  at  our  mouths  :  this  frame  we  look  upon, 
hath  been  upon  our  trenchers ;  in  brief,  we  have  devoured 
ourselves.  I  cannot  believe  the  wisdom  of  Pythagoras 
did  ever  positively,  and  in  a  literal  sense,  affirm  his 
metempsychosis,  or  impossible  transmigration  of  the 
souls  of  men  into  beasts.  Of  all  metamorphoses  or 
tramsmigrations,  I  believe  only  one,  that  is  of  Lot's 
■\vife  ;  for  that  of  Nabuchodonosor  proceeded  not  so  far. 
In  all  others  I  conceive  there  is  no  further  verity  than 
ifl  contained  in  their  implicit  sense  and  morality.  I 
believe  that  the  whole  frame  of  a  beast  doth  perish,  and 
is  left  in  the  same  state  after  death  as  before  it  v/as 
materialled  unto  life :  that  the  souls  of  men  know 
neither  contrary  nor  corruption  ;  that  they  subsist  be- 
yond the  bo<Jy,  and  outlive  death  by  the  privilege  of 
their  proper  natures,  and  without  a  miracle  :  that  the 
souls  of  the  faithful,  OS  they  leave  earth,  take  possession 
of  heaven  ;  that  those  a]i])arition8  and  ghosts  of  dcjiarted 
persons  are  not  the  wandering  souls  of  men,  but  the 


52  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

unquiet  walks  of  devils,  prompting  and  suggesting  us 
unto  mischief,  blood,  and  villany  ;  instilling  and  steal- 
ing into  our  hearts  that  the  blessed  spirits  are  not  at 
rest  in  their  graves,  but  wander,  solicitous  of  the  affairs 
of  the  world.  But  that  those  phantasms  appear  often, 
and  do  frequent  cemeteries,  charnel-houses,  and  churches, 
it  is  because  those  are  the  dormitories  of  the  dead,  where 
the  devil,  like  an  insolent  champion,  beholds  with  pride 
the  spoils  and  trophies  of  his  victory  over  Adam. 

ySeci.  38. — This  is  that  dismal  conquest  we  all  deplore, 
that  makes  us  so  often  cry,  O  Adam,  quid  fecisti  ?  I 
thank  God  I  have  not  those  strait  ligaments,  or  narrow 
obligations  to  the  world,  as  to  dote  on  life,  or  be  con- 
vulsed and  tremble  at  the  name  of  death.  Not  that  I 
am  insensible  of  the  dread  and  horror  thereof  ;  or,  by 
raking  into  the  bowels  of  the  deceased,  continual  sight 
of  anatomies,  skeletons,  or  cadaverous  relicks,  like  ves- 
pilloes,  or  gravemakers,  I  am  become  stupid,  or  have 
forgot  the  apprehension  of  mortality ;  but  that,  marshal- 
ling all  the  horrors,  and  contemplating  the  extremities 
thereof,  I  find  not  anything  therein  able  to  daunt  the 
courage  of  a  man,  much  less  a  well-resolved  Christian  ; 
and  therefore  am  not  angry  at  the  error  of  our  first 
parents,  or  unwilling  to  bear  a  part  of  this  common 
fate,  and,  like  the  best  of  them,  to  die  ;  that  is,  to 
cease  to  breathe,  to  take  a  farewell  of  the  elements  ;  to 
be  a  kind  of  nothing  for  a  moment ;  to  be  within  one 
instant  of  a  spirit.  When  I  take  a  full  view  and  circle 
of  myself  without  this  reasonable  moderator,  and  equal 
piece  of  justice,  death,  I  do  conceive  myself  the  miser- 
ablest  person  extant.  Were  there  not  another  life  that 
I  hope  for,  all  the  vanities  of  this  world  should  not 
entreat  a  moment's  breath  from  me.  Could  the  devil 
work  my  belief  to  imagine  I  could  never  die,  I  would 


RELIGIO  MEDICT.  53 

not  outlive  that  very  tliouglit.  I  have  so  abject  a  con- 
ceit of  this  common  way  of  existence,  this  retaining  to 
the  6un  and  elements,  I  cannot  think  this  is  to  he  a 
man,  or  to  live  according  to  the  dignity  of  humanity. 
In  expectation  of  a  better,  I  can  \\'ith  patience  embrace 
this  life  ;  yet,  in  my  best  meditations,  do  often  defy 
death.  I  honour  any  man  that  contemns  it ;  nor  can  I 
highly  love  any  that  is  afraid  of  it :  this  makes  me 
naturally  love  a  soldier,  and  honour  those  tattered  and 
contemptible  regiments,  that  will  die  at  the  command 
of  a  sergeant  For  a  pagan  there  may  be  some  motives 
to  be  in  love  ^nth  life  ;  but,  for  a  Cliristian  to  be  amazed 
at  death,  I  see  not  how  he  can  escape  this  dilemma — 
that  he  is  too  sensible  of  this  life,  or  hopeless  of  the 
life  to  come. 

Sect.  39. — Some  divines  ^2  count  Adam  thirty  years 
old  at  his  creation,  because  they  suppose  him  created  in 
the  perfect  age  and  stature  of  man  :  and  surely  we  are 
all  out  of  the  computation  of  our  age  ;  and  every  man 
is  some  months  older  than  he  bethinks  him  ;  for  we 
live,  move,  have  a  being,  and  are  subject  to  the  actions 
of  the  elements,  and  the  malice  of  diseases,  in  that  other 
world,  the  truest  microcosm,  the  womb  of  our  mother  ; 
for  besides  that  general  and  common  existence  we  are 
conceived  to  hold  in  our  chaos,  and  whilst  we  sleep 
witliin  the  bosom  of  our  causes,  we  enjoy  a  being  and 
life  in  three  distinct  worlds,  wherein  we  receive  most 
manifest  gradations.  In  that  obscure  world,  the  womb 
of  our  mother,  our  time  is  short,  computed  by  the 
moon  ;  yet  longer  than  the  days  of  many  creatures  that 
behold  the  sun  ;  ourselves  being  not  yet  without  life, 
sense,  and  reason  ;53  though,  iux  the  manifestation  of 
it«  actions,  it  awaits  the  op])ortunity  of  objects,  and 
seems  to  live  there  but  in  its  root  and  soul  of  vegetation. 


54  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

Entering  afterwards  upon  the  scene  of  tlie  world,  we 
arise  up  and  become  another  creature  ;  performing  the 
reasonable  actions  of  man,  and  obscurely  manifesting 
that  part  of  divinity  in  us,  but  not  in  complement  and 
perfection,  till  we  have  once  more  cast  oiu"  secundine, 
that  is,  this  slough  of  flesh,  and  are  delivered  into  the 
last  world,  that  is,  that  ineffable  place  of  Paul,  that 
proper  \M  of  spirits.  The  smattering  I  have  of  the 
pliilosophers'  stone  (which  is  something  more  than  the 
perfect  exaltation  5i  of  gold)  hath  taught  me  a  great  deal 
of  divinity,  and  instructed  my  belief,  how  that  immortal 
spirit  and  incorruptible  substance  of  my  soul  may  lie 
obscure,  and  sleep  a  while  within  this  house  of  flesh. 
Those  strange  and  mystical  transmigrations  that  I  have 
observed  in  silkworms  turned  my  philosophy  into 
divinity.  There  is  in  these  works  of  nature,  which 
seem  t.o  puzzle  reason,  something  divine  ;  and  hath 
more  in  it  than  the  eye  of  a  conxmon  spectator  doth 
discover. 

^tct.  40. — I  am  naturally  bashful ;  nor  hath  conver- 
sation, age,  or  travel,  been  able  to  effront  or  euharden 
me  ;  yet  I  have  one  part  of  modesty,  which  I  have 
seldom  discovered  in  another,  that  is  (to  speak  truly), 
I  am  not  so  much  afraid  of  death  as  ashamed  thereof  ; 
'tis  the  very  disgrace  and  ignominy  of  our  natures,  that 
in  a  moment  can  so  disfigure  us,  that  our  nearest 
friends,  wife,  and  children,  stand  afraid,  and  start  at  us. 
The  birds  and  beasts  of  the  field,  that  before,  in  a 
natural  fear,  obeyed  us,  forgetting  all  allegiance,  begin 
to  prey  upon  us.  This  very  conceit  hath,  in  a  temgest, 
disposed  and  left  me  willing  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the 
abyss  of  Avaters,  wherein  I  had  perished  unseen,  im- 
pitied,  without  wondering  eyes,  tears  of  pity,  lectures 
of  mortality,  and  none  had  said,  "  Quantum  imitatus  ah 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  55 

illo  !  "  Not  that  I  am  ashamed  of  the  anatomy  of  my 
parte,  or  can  accuse  nature  of  playing  the  bungler  in 
any  part  of  me,  or  my  own  vicious  life  for  contracting 
anv  tjhamefiil  disease  upon  me,  whereby  I  might  not 
call  myself  as  wholesome  a  morsel  for  the  worms  as 
any. 

Sect.  41. — Some,  upon  the  courage  of  a  fruitful  issue, 
wherein,  as  in  the  truest  chronicle,  they  seem  to  outlive 
themselves,  can  with  greater  patience  away  with  death. 
This  conceit  and  counterfeit  subsisting  in  our  progenies 
seems  to  be  a  mere  fallacy,  imworthy  the  desire  of  a 
man,  that  can  but  conceive  a  thought  of  the  next  world ; 
who,  in  a  nobler  ambition,  should  desire  to  live  in  his 
substance  in  heaven,  rather  than  his  name  and  shadow 
in  the  eai'th.  And  therefore,  at  my  death,  I  mean  to 
take  a  total  adieu  of  the  world,  not  caring  for  a  monu- 
ment, history,  or  epitaph  ;  not  so  much  as  the  bare 
memorj'  of  my  name  to  be  found  anywhere,  but  in  the 
xmiversal  register  of  God.  I  am  not  yet  so  cynical,  aa 
to  approve  the  testament  of  Diogenes,*  nor  do  I  alto- 
gether allow  that  rodomontade  of  Lucan  ;t 

"  CceIo  tegitur,  qui  non  habet  umam." 

He  that  unbiiried  lies  wants  not  his  hearse  ; 
For  unto  him  a  tomb  'a  the  universe. 

but  commend,  in  my  calmer  judgment,  those  ingenuous 
intentions  that  desire  to  sleep  by  the  urns  of  their 
fatliers,  and  strive  to  go  the  neatest  Avay  unto  corruption. 
I  do  not  envy  the  temper  *"  of  crows  and  daws,  nor  the 
numerous  and  weary  days  of  our  fathers  before  the 
Hood.    If  there  be  any  truth  in  astrology,  I  may  outlive 

•  Who  willed  his  friend  not  to  bury  him,  but  to  hang  him 
up  with  II  Mtuff  in  liin  liund,  to  fright  away  the  crows. 
t  "Pharrolia,"  vii.  819. 


56  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

a  jubilee  ;58  as  yet  I  have  not  seen  one  revolution  of 
Saturn,'''  nor  hatli  my  pulse  beat  thirty  years,  and  yet, 
excepting  one,58  have  seen  the  ashes  of,  and  left  under 
ground,  all  the  kings  of  Europe ;  have  been  contem- 
porary to  three  emperors,  four  grand  signiors,  and  as 
many  popes  :  methinks  I  have  outlived  myself,  and 
begin  to  be  weary  of  the  sun  ;  I  have  shaken  hands  with 
delight  in  my  warm  blood  and  canicular  days ;  I 
perceive  I  do  anticipate  the  vices  of  age  ;  the  world  to 
me  is  but  a  dream  or  mock-show,  and  we  all  therein  but 
pantaloons  and  anticks,  to  my  severer  comtemplations. 
Se,d.  42. — It  is  not,  I  confess,  an  unlawful  prayer  to 
desire  to  surpass  the  days  of  our  Saviour,  or  wish  to 
outlive  that  age  wherein  he  thought  fittest  to  die  ;  yet,  if 
(as  divinity  affirms)  there  shall  be  no  grey  hairs  in.  heaven, 
but  all  shall  rise  in  the  perfect  state  of  men,  we  do 
but  outlive  those  perfections  in  this  world,  to  be  recalled 
imto  them  by  a  greater  miracle  in  the  next,  and  run  on 
here  but  to  be  retrograde  hereafter.  Were  there  any 
hopes  to  outlive  vice,  or  a  point  to  be  superannuated 
from  sin,  it  were  worthy  our  knees  to  implore  the  days 
of  Methuselah.  But  age  doth  not  rectify,  but  incurvate 
our  natures,  turning  bad  dispositions  into  worser  habits, 
and  (like  diseases)  brings  on  incurable  vices  ;  for  every 
day,  as  we  grow  weaker  in  age,  we  grow  stronger  in  sin, 
and.  the  number  of  our  days  doth  but  make  our  sins 
innumerable.  The  same  vice,  committed  at  sixteen,  is 
not  the  same,  though  it  agrees  in  all  other  circimi- 
stances,  as  at  forty  ;  but  swells  and  doubles  from  the 
circumstance  of  our  ages,  wherein,  besides  the  constant 
and  inexcusable  habit  of  transgressing,  the  maturity  of 
our  judgment  cuts  off  pretence  unto  excuse  or  pardon. 
Every  sin,  the  oftener  it  is  committed,  the  more  it 
acquireth  in  the  quality  of  evil  ;  as  it  succeeds  in  time, 


KELIGIO  MEDICT.  57 

80  it  proceeds  in  degrees  of  badness  ;  for  as  they  proceed 
they  ever  multiply,  and,  like  figures  in  arithmetick,  the 
last  stands  for  more  than  all  that  went  before  it.  And, 
though  I  think  no  man  can  live  well  once,  but  he  that 
could  live  twice,  yet,  for  my  own  part,  I  would  not  live 
over  my  hours  past,  or  begin  again  the  thread  of  my 
days ;  not  upon  Cicero's  ground,*  because  I  have  lived 
them  well,  but  for  fear  I  should  live  them  worse.  I 
find  my  growing  judgment  daily  instruct  me  how  to 
be  better,  but  my  untamed  aftections  and  confirmed 
vitiosity  make  me  daily  do  worse.  I  find  in  my  con- 
firmed age  the  same  sins  I  discovered  in  my  youth ;  I 
committed  many  then  because  I  was  a  chlid  ;  and, 
because  I  conmiit  them  still,  I  am  yet  an  infant. 
Therefore  I  perceive  a  man  may  be  twice  a  child, 
l>efore  the  days  of  dotage  ;  and  stand  in  need  of  ^son's 
bath  *'  before  tlueescore. 

Sect  43. — And  truly  there  goes  a  deal  of  providence 
to  produce  a  man's  life  unto  threescore  ;  there  is  more 
required  than  an  able  temper  for  those  years  :  though 
the  radical  humour  contain  in  it  sufficient  oil  for  seventy, 
yet  I  perceive  in  some  it  gives  no  light  past  thirty :  men 
assign  not  all  the  causes  of  long  life,  that  write  whole 
books  thereof.  They  that  found  themselves  on  the 
radical  balsam,  or  vital  sulphur  of  the  parts,  determine 
not  why  Abel  lived  not  bo  long  as  Adam.  There  is 
therefore  a  secret  gloom  or  bottom  of  our  days  :  'twas 
liis  wisdom  to  determine  them  :  but  his  perpetual  and 
waking  providence  that  fulfils  and  accomplLsheth  them ; 
wherein  the  spirits,  ourselves,  and  all  the  creatures  of 
(j<^,  in  a  secret  and  disputed  way,  do  execute  his  will. 
Let  them  not  therefore  complain  of  immaturity  that  die 
about  thirty  :  they  fall  but  like  the  whole  world,  whose 
•  F.i>.  lib.  xxiv.  cp.  24. 


58  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

solid  and  "well-composed  substance  must  not  expect  the 
duration  and  period  of  its  constitution  :  wlien  all  things 
are  completed  in  it,  its  age  is  accomplished  ;  and  the 
last  and  general  fever  may  as  naturally  destroy  it  before 
six  thousand/"  as  me  before  forty.  There  is  therefore 
some  other  hand  that  twines  the  thread  of  life  than  that 
of  nature  :  we  are  not  only  ignorant  in  antipathies  and 
occult  qualities  ;  our  ends  are  as  obscure  as  our  begin- 
nings ;  the  line  of  our  days  is  drawn  by  night,  and  the 
various  effects  therein  by  a  pencil  that  is  invisible  ; 
wherein,  though  we  confess  our  ignorance,  I  am  sure 
we  do  not  err  if  we  say,  it  is  the  hand  of  God. 

Bed.  44. — I  am  much  taken  with  two  verses  of  Lucan, 
since  I  have  been  able  not  only,  as  we  do  at  school,  to 
construe,  but  understand  : 

"  Victurosque  Dei  celant  ut  vivere  durent, 
Felix  esse  mori.'"  * 

We  're  all  deluded,  vainly  searching  ways 
To  make  us  happy  by  the  length  of  days  ; 
For  cunningly,  to  make 's  protract  this  breath. 
The  gods  conceal  the  happiness  of  death. 

There  be  many  excellent  strains  in  that  poet,  where- 
with his  stoical  genius  hath  liberally  supplied  him : 
and  truly  there  are  singular  pieces  in  the  philosophy 
of  Zeno,^i  and  doctrine  of  the  stoics,  which  I  perceive, 
delivered  ia  a  pulpit,  pass  for  current  divinity :  yet 
herein  are  they  in  extremes,  that  can  allow  a  man  to  be 
his  own  assassin,  and  so  highly  extol  the  end  and  suicide 
of  Cato.  This  is  indeed  not  to  fear  death,  but  yet  to  be 
afraid  of  life.  It  is  a  brave  act  of  valour  to  contemn 
death  ;  but,  where  life  is  more  terrible  than  death,  it 
is  then  the  truest  valour  to  dare  to  lire  :  and  herein 
religion  hath  taught  us  a  noble  example ;  for  all  the 
*  Pharsalia,  iv.  519. 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  59 

valiant  acts  of  Curtius,  Scoevola,  or  Codrui?,  do  not 
parallel,  or  match,  that  one  of  Job ;  and  sure  there  is 
no  torture  to  the  rack  of  a  disease,  nor  any  poniards  in 
death  itself,  like  those  in  the  way  or  prologue  unto  it. 
"Emori  yiclo,  sed  me  esse  viortuum  nihil  euro;"  I  would 
not  die,  but  care  not  to  be  dead,  "Were  I  of  Caesar's 
reli>non,*^  I  should  be  of  his  desires,  and  wish  rather  to 
go  off  at  one  blow,  than  to  be  sawed  in  pieces  by  the 
grating  torture  of  a  disease.  Men  that  look  no  further 
than  their  outsides,  think  health  an  appurtenance  unto 
life,  and  quarrel  A\'ith  their  constitutions  for  being  sick ; 
but  I,  that  have  examined  the  parts  of  man,  and  know 
upon  what  tender  filaments  that  fabrick  hangs,  do 
wonder  that  we  are  not  always  so  ;  and,  considering  the 
thousand  doors  that  lead  to  death,  do  thank  my  God 
that  we  can  die  but  once.  'Tis  not  only  the  mischief 
of  diseases,  and  the  villany  of  poisons,  that  make  an 
end  of  us  ;  we  vainly  accuse  the  fury  of  guns,  and  the 
new  inventions  of  death  : — it  is  in  the  power  of  every 
hand  to  destroy  us,  and  we  are  beholden  unto  every 
one  Me  meet,  he  doth  not  kill  us.  There  is  therefore 
but  one  comfort  left,  that  though  it  be  in  the  power  of 
the  weakest  arm  to  take  away  life,  it  is  not  in  the 
strongest  to  deprive  us  of  death.  God  would  not  ex- 
empt himself  from  that ;  the.  misery  of  immurtulity 
in  the  He.<h  he  undertook  not,  that  was  immortal. 
Certainly  there  is  no  happiness  within  this  circle  of 
flesh  ;  nor  is  it  in  the  opticks  of  these  eyes  to  behold 
felicity.  The  first  day  of  our  jubilee  is  death ;  the 
devil  hath  therefore  failed  of  his  desires  ;  we  are  hap- 
pier with  death  tlian  we  should  have  been  without  it : 
there  is  no  nii.ser)'  but  in  himself,  where  there  is  no 
end  of  misery  ;  and  so  indeed,  in  his  own  sense,  the 
stoic  is  in  the  right.''^     lie  forgets  that  he  can  die,  who 


to  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

complains  of  misery  :  we  are  in  tlie  power  of  no  calamity 
whUe  death,  is  in  our  own, 

8e,d.  45. — Now,  besides  this  literal  and  positive  kind 
of  death,  there  are  others  whereof  divines  make  men- 
tion, and  those,  I  think,  not  merely  metaphorical,  as 
mortification,  dying  unto  sin  and  the  world.  There- 
fore, I  say,  every  man  hath  a  double  horoscope  ;  one  of 
tiis  humanity, — his  birth,  another  of  his  Christianity, — 
tiis  baptism  :  and  from  this  do  I  compute  or  calculate 
my  nativity  ;  not  reckoning  those  lioTtz  combustce,^*  and 
odd  days,  or  esteeming  myself  anything,  before  I  was 
my  Saviom''s  and  enrolled  in  the  register  of  Christ. 
Whosoever  enjoys  not  this  life,  I  coimt  him  but  an 
apparition,  though  he  wear  about  him  the  sensible 
affections  of  flesh.  In  these  moral  acceptions,  the  way 
to  be  immortal  is  to  die  daily  ;  nor  can  I  think  I  have 
the  true  theory  of  death,  when  I  contemplate  a  skull  or 
behold  a  skeleton  with  those  viJgar  imaginations  it 
casts  upon  us.  I  have  therefore  enlarged  that  common 
memento  mori  into  a  more  Christian  memorandum, 
memento  quatuor  novissima, — those  four  inevitable 
points  of  us  all,  death,  judgment,  heaven,  and  hell. 
Neither  did  the  contemplations  of  the  heathens  rest  in 
their  graves,  without  a  further  thou^ght,  of  Rhada- 
manth^^  or  some  judicial  proceeding  after  death,  though 
in  another  way,  and  upon  suggestion  of  their  natural 
reasons.  I  cannot  but  marvel  from  what  sibyl  or  oracle 
they  stole  the  prophecy  of  the  world's  destruction  by 
fire,  or  whence  Lucan  learned  to  say — 

*'  Communis  mundo  superest  rogus,  ossibus  astra 
Misturus "  * 

There  yet  remains  to  th'  world  one  common  fire, 
Wherein  our  bones  with  stars  shall  make  one  pyre. 
*  Fharsalia,  vii.  814. 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  6l 

I  lielieve  the  world  grows  near  its  end  ;  yet  is  neither 
old  nor  decayed,  nor  will  ever  perish  upon  the  ruins  of 
its  o^ra.  principles.  As  the  work  of  creation  was  above 
nature,  so  is  its  adversary,  anniliilation  ;  wthout  which 
the  world  hath  not  its  end,  but  its  mutation.  Now, 
what  force  should  be  able  to  consume  it  thus  far,  with- 
out the  breath  of  Gud,  which  is  the  truest  consundug 
flame,  my  philosophy  cannot  inform  me.  Some  believe 
there  went  not  a  minute  to  the  world's  creation,  nor 
shall  there  go  to  its  destruction ;  those  six  days,  so 
punctually  described,  make  not  to  them  one  moment, 
but  rather  seem  to  manifest  the  method  and  idea  of 
that  great  work  of  the  intellect  of  God  than  the  manner 
how  he  proceeded  in  its  operation.  I  cannot  dream  that 
there  should  be  at  the  last  day  any  such  judicial  pro- 
ceeding, or  calling  to  the  bar,  as  indeed  the  Scripture 
seems  to  imply,  and  the  literal  commentators  do  con- 
ceive :  for  unspeakable  mysteries  in  tlie  Scriptui'es  are 
often  delivered  in  a  vulgar  and  illustrative  way,  and, 
l)eing  written  unto  man,  are  delivered,  not  as  they  truly 
are,  but  as  they  may  be  understood  ;  wherein,  notwith- 
ptanding,  the  different  interpretations  according  to  dif- 
ferent capacities  may  stand  firm  with  our  devotion,  nor 
be  any  way  prejudicial  to  each  single  edification. 

ikd.  46. — Now,  to  determine  the  day  and  year  of  this 
inevitable  time,  is  not  only  convincible  and  statute 
madness,  but  also  manifest  impiety.  How  shall  we 
interpret  Elias's  six  thousand  years,  or  imagine  the 
secret  communicated  to  a  Rabbi  which  God  hath  de- 
nied unto  his  angels  ?  It  had  been  an  excellent  quajre 
to  have  posed  the  devil  of  Delphos,  and  must  needs 
have  forced  him  to  some  strange  amphibology.  It  hath 
not  only  mocked  tlie  predictions  of  sundry  astrologers 
in  ages  past,  but  tlie  prophecies  of  many  melancholy 


62  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

heads  in  these  present ;  who,  neither  understanding 
reasonably  things  past  nor  present,  pretend  a  know- 
ledge of  tilings  to  come  ;  heads  ordained  only  to  mani- 
fest the  incredible  effects  of  melancholy  and  to  fulfil  old 
prophecies,*  rather  than  be  the  authors  of  new.  "  In 
those  days  there  shall  come  wars  and  rumours  of  wars  " 
to  me  seems  no  prophecy,  but  a  constant  truth  in  all 
times  verified  since  it  was  pronounced.  "  There  shall 
be  signs  in  the  moon  and  stars  ; "  how  comes  he  then 
like  a  thief  in  the  night,  when  he  gives  an  item  of  his 
coming  ?  That  common  sign,  drawn  from  the  revela- 
tion of  antichrist,  is  as  obscure  as  any  ;  in  our  common 
compute  he  hath  been  come  these  many  years  ;  but, 
for  my  own  part,  to  speak  freely,  I  am  half  of  opinion 
that  antichrist  is  the  philosopher's  stone  in  divinity,  for 
the  discovery  and  invention  whereof,  though  there  be 
prescribed  rules,  and  probable  inductions,  yet  hath 
hardly  any  man  attained  the  perfect  discovery  thereof. 
That  general  opinion,  that  the  world  grows  near  its 
end,  hath  possessed  all  ages  past  as  nearly  as  ours.  I 
am  afraid  that  the  souls  that  now  depart  cannot  escape 
that  lingering  expostulation  of  the  saints  under  the 
altar,  "quousque,  Domine?"  how  long,  0  Lord?  and  groan 
in  the  expectation  of  the  great  jubilee. 

Sect.  47. — This  is  the  day  that  must  make  good  that 
great  attribute  of  God,  his  justice  ;  that  must  reconcile 
those  unanswerable  doubts  that  torment  the  wisest 
understandings  ;  and  reduce  those  seeming  inequalities 
and  respective  distributions  in  this  world,  to  an  equality 
and  recompensive  justice  in  the  next.  This  is  that  one 
day,  that  shall  include  and  comprehend  all  that  went 
before  it ;  wherein,  as  in  the  last  scene,  all  the  actors 
must  enter,  to  complete  and  make  up  the  catastrophe  of 
*  "  In  those  days  there  shall  come  liars  and  false  prophets." 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  63 

this  <^reat  piece.  This  is  the  day  whose  memory  hath, 
onlv,  power  to  make  us  honest  iu  the  dark,  and  to  be 
virtuous ^^-ithout  awitness.  "/j)sa  s^tipretiuvi virtus  sibi," 
that  virtue  is  her  own  reward,  is  but  a  cold  principle, 
and  not  able  to  maintain  our  variable  resolutions  in  a 
constant  and  settled  way  of  goodness.  I  have  practised 
that  honest  artifice  of  Seneca,**  and,  in  my  retired  and 
solitary  imaginations  to  detain  me  from  the  foulness  of 
^^ce,  have  fimcied  to  myself  the  presence  of  my  dear  and 
worthiest  friends,  before  whom  I  should  lose  my  head 
rather  than  be  \'icious  ;  yet  herein  I  foimd  that  there 
was  nought  but  moral  honesty  ;  and  tliis  was  not  to  be 
virtuous  for  his  sake  who  must  reward  us  at  the  last.  I 
have  tried  if  I  could  reach  that  great  resolution  of  his, 
to  be  honest  without  a  thouglit  of  heaven  or  hell ;  and, 
indeed  I  found,  upon  a  natural  inclination,  and  inbred 
loyalty  unto  virtue,  that  I  coxild  serve  her  without  a 
livery,  yet  not  in  that  resolved  and  venerable  way,  but 
that  the  frailty  of  my  nature,  upon  an  easy  temptation, 
might  be  induced  to  forget  her.  The  life,  therefore,  and 
spirit  of  all  our  actions  is  the  resurrection,  and  a  stable 
apprehension  that  our  a.shes  shall  enjoy  the  fruit  of  our 
pious  endeavours  ;  without  this,  all  religion  is  a  fallacy, 
and  those  impieties  of  Lucian,  Euripides,  and  Julian,  are 
no  blasjihemies,  but  subtile  verities  ;  and  atheists  have 
been  the  only  philosophers. 

Sect.  48. — How  shall  the  dead  arise,  is  no  question  of 
my  faith  ;  to  believe  only  possibilities  is  not  faith,  but 
mere  philosojihy.  Many  things  are  true  in  divinity, 
which  are  neither  inducible  by  reason  nor  confirmable 
by  sense  ;  and  many  things  in  phU<).sf)phy  confirmable 
by  sense,  yet  not  inducible  by  reason.  Thus  it  is  im- 
possible, by  any  m\i'\  or  demonstrative  reasons,  to  per- 
suade a  man  to  believe  the  conversion  of  the  needle  to 


64  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

the  north  ;  thoiigli  this  be  possible  and  true,  and  easily 
credible,  upon  a  single  experiment  unto  the  sense.  I 
believe  that  our  estranged  and  divided  ashes  shall  unite 
again  ;  that  our  separated  dust,  after  so  many  pilgrim- 
ages and  transformations  into  the  parts  of  minerals, 
plants,  animals,  elements,  shall,  at  the  voice  of  God, 
return  into  their  primitive  shapes,  and  join  again  to 
make  up  their  primary  and  predestinate  forms.  As  at 
the  creation  there  was  a  separation  of  that  confused 
mass  into  its  pieces  ;  so  at  the  deslSTiction  thereof  there 
shall  be  a  separation  into  its  distinct  individuals.  As, 
at  the  creation  of  the  world,  all  the  distinct  species  that 
we  behold  lay  involved  in  one  mass,  till  the  fndtful 
voice  of  God  separated  this  iinited  multitude  into  its 
several  species,  so,  at  the  last  day,  when  those  corrupted 
relicts  shall  be  scattered  in  the  wilderness  of  forms,  and 
seem  to  have  forgot  their  proper  habits,  God,  by  a  power- 
ful voice,  shall  command  them  back  into  their  proper 
shapes,  and  call  them  out  by  their  single  individuals. 
Then  shall  appear  the  fertility  of  Adam,  and  the  magick 
of  that  sperm  that  hath  dilated  into  so  many  millions. 
I  have  often  beheld,  as  a  mii-acle,  that  artificial  resur- 
rection and  revivification  of  mercmy,  how  being  morti- 
fied into  a  thousand  shapes,  it  assumes  again  its  own, 
and  returns  into  its  numerical  self.  Let  us  speak 
naturally,  and  like  philosophers.  The  forms  of  alter- 
able bodies  in  these  sensible  corruptions  perish  not ; 
nor,  as  we  imagine,  wholly  quit  their  mansions  ;  but 
retire  and  contract  themselves  into  their  secret  and 
unaccessible  parts  ;  where  they  may  best  protect  them- 
selves from  the  action  of  their  antagonist.  A  plant  or 
vegetable  consumed  to  ashes  to  a  contemplative  and 
school-philosopher  seems  utterly  destroyed,  and  the 
form  to  have  taken  his  leave  for  ever  ;  but  to  a  sensible 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  65 

artist  the  forms  are  not  perished,  but  withdrawii  into 
their  incombustible  part,  where  they  lie  secure  from  the 
action  of  that  devouring  element.  This  is  made  good 
by  experience,  which  can  from  the  ashes  of  a  plant 
revive  the  plimt,  and  from  its  cinders  recall  it  into  its 
stalk  and  leaves  again.67  What  the  art  of  man  can  do 
in  these  inferior  pieces,  what  blasphemy  is  it  to  affinn 
the  finger  of  God  cannot  do  in  those  more  perfect  and 
sensible  structures  ?  This  is  that  mystical  philosophy, 
from  whence  no  true  scholar  becomes  an  atheist,  but 
from  the  visilde  effects  of  nature  grows  up  a  real 
lUvine,  and  beholds  not  in  a  dream,  as  Ezekiel,  but 
in  an  ocular  and  visible  object,  the  types  of  his  resur- 
rection. 

Sect.  49. — Now,  the  necessary  mansions  of  our  restored 
selves  are  those  two  contrary  and  incompatible  places 
we  call  heaven  and  hell.  To  define  them,  or  strictly  to 
determine  what  and  where  these  are,  surpasseth  my 
divinity.  That  elegant  apostle,  which  seemed  to  have 
a  glimpse  of  heaven,  hath  left  but  a  negative  descrip- 
tion thereof;  which  "neither  eye  hath  seen,  nor  ear  hath 
heard,  nor  can  enter  into  the  heart  of  man  : "  he  was 
translated  out  of  himself  to  behold  it  ;  but,  being  re- 
turned into  himself,  could  not  express  it.  Saint  John's 
description  by  emeralds,  chrj'solites,  and  precious  stones, 
is  too  weak  to  express  the  material  heaven  we  behold. 
Briefiv,  therefore,  where  the  soul  hath  the  full  measure 
and  complement  of  happiness  ;  where  the  boundless 
apjK'tite  of  that  sjiirit  remains  completely  satisfied  that 
it  can  neither  desire  addition  nor  alteration  ;  that,  I 
think,  is  truly  heaven  :  and  this  can  only  be  in  the 
enjovment  of  that  essence,  whose  infinite  goodness  is 
able  to  tenninate  tlie  desires  of  itself,  and  the  unsatiable 
wishes  of  ours.     Wherever  God  will  thus  manifest  him- 

E 


66  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

self,  there  is  heaven,  though,  within  the  circle  of  this 
sensible  world.  Thus,  the  soul  of  man  may  be  in 
heaven  anywhere,  even  within  the  limits  of  his  own 
proper  body  ;  and  when  it  ceaseth  to  live  in  the  body  it 
may  remain  in  its  own  soul,  that  is,  its  Creator.  And 
thus  we  may  say  that  Saint  Paul,  whether  in  the  body 
or  out  of  the  body,  was  yet  in  heaven.  To  place  it  in 
the  empyreal,  or  beyond  the  tenth  sphere,  is  to  forget 
the  world's  destruction  ;  for  when  this  sensible  world 
shall  be  destroyed,  all  shall  then  be  here  as  it  is  now 
there,  an  empyreal  heaven,  a  quasi  vacuity  ;  when  to 
ask  where  heaven  is,  is  to  demand  where  the  presence  of 
God  is,  or  where  we  have  the  glory  of  that  happy 
vision.  Moses,  that  was  bred  up  in  all  the  learning  of 
the  Egyptians,  committed  a  gross  absurdity  in  philo- 
sophy, when  with  these  eyes  of  flesh  he  desired  to  see  God, 
and  petitioned  his  Maker,  that  is  truth  itself,  to  a  contra- 
dictioiL  Those  that  imagine  heaven  and  hell  neighbours, 
and  conceive  a  vicinity  between  those  two  extremes, 
upon  consequence  of  the  parable,  where  Dives  discoursed 
with  Lazarus,  in  Abraham's  bosom,  do  too  grossly  con- 
ceive of  those  glorified  creatures,  whose  eyes  shall  easily 
out-see  the  sun,  and  behold  without  perspective  the 
extremest  distances  :  for  if  there  shall  be,  in  our  glori- 
fied eyes,  the  faculty  of  sight  and  reception  of  objects, 
I  could  think  the  visible  species  there  to  be  in  as  un- 
limitable  a  way  as  now  the  intellectual.  I  grant  that 
two  bodies  placed  beyond  the  tenth  sphere,  or  in  a 
vacuity,  according  to  Aristotle's  philosophy,  could  not 
behold  each  other,  because  there  wants  a  body  or 
medium  to  hand  and  transport  the  visible  rays  of  the 
object  unto  the  sense  ;  but  when  there  shall  be  a  general 
defect  of  either  medium  to  convey,  or  light  to  prepare 
and  dispose  that  medium,  and  yet  a  perfect  vision,  we 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  67 

must  suspend  the  rules  of  our  philosophy,  and  make  all 
good  by  a  more  absolute  piece  of  opticks. 

/Sec/.  50. — I  cannot  tell  how  to  say  that  fire  is  ths 
essence  of  hell  ;  I  know  not  what  to  make  of  purgatory, 
or  conceive  a  llame  that  can  either  prey  upon,  or  purify 
the  substance  of  a  soul.  Those  flames  of  sulphur,  men- 
tioned in  the  scriptures,  I  take  not  to  be  understood  of 
this  present  hell,  but  of  that  to  come,  where  fire  shall 
make  up  the  complement  of  our  tortures,  and  have  a 
body  or  subject  whereon  to  manifest  its  tyranny.  Some 
who  have  had  the  honour  to  be  textuary  in  divinity  are 
of  opinion  it  shall  be  the  same  specifical  tire  with  ours. 
This  is  hard  to  conceive,  yet  can  I  make  good  how  even 
that  may  prey  upon  our  bodies,  and  yet  not  consume 
us  :  for  in  this  material  world,  there  are  bodies  that 
persist  invincible  in  the  powerf  ulest  flames  ;  and  though, 
by  the  action  of  fire,  they  fall  into  ignition  and  liquation, 
yet  will  they  never  sufier  a  destruction.  I  would  gladly 
know  how  Piloses,  with  an  actual  fire,  calcined  or  burnt 
the  golden  calf  into  powder  :  for  that  mystical  metal  of 
gold,  whose  solary  and  celestial  nature  I  admire,  ex- 
posed unto  the  violence  of  fire,  grows  only  hot,  and 
liquefies,  but  consumeth  not ;  so  when  the  consvunable 
and  volatile  pieces  of  our  bodies  shall  be  refined  into  a 
more  impregnable  and  fixed  temper,  like  gold,  though 
they  suffer  from  the  action  of  flames,  they  shall  never 
perish,  but  lie  immortal  in  the  arms  of  fire.  And 
surely,  if  this  flame  must  suffer  only  by  the  action  of 
this  element,  there  will  many  bodies  escape ;  and  not 
only  heaven,  but  earth  will  not  be  at  an  end,  but 
rather  a  beginning.  For  at  present  it  is  not  earth,  but 
a  composition  of  fire,  water,  earth,  and  air  ;  but  at  that 
time,  spoiled  of  these  ingredients,  it  sliall  appear  in  a 
suljstance  more  like  itself,  its  ashes.     Philosophers  that 


68  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

opinioned  the  world's  destruction,  by  fire,  did  never 
dream  of  annihilation,  wMcli  is  beyond  the  power  of 
sublunary  causes  ;  for  the  last  and  proper  action  of  that 
element  is  but  vitrification,  or  a  reduction  of  a  body  into 
glass  ;  and  therefore  some  of  our  chyniicks  facetioiusly 
affirm,  that,  at  the  last  fire,  all  shall  be  crystalized  and 
reverberated  into  glass,  which  is  the  utmost  action  of 
that  element.  Nor  need  we  fear  this  term,  annihilation, 
or  wonder  that  God  will  destroy  the  works  of  his  crea- 
tion :  for  man  subsisting,  who  is,  and  will  then  truly 
appear,  a  microcosm,  the  world  cannot  be  said  to  be 
destroyed.  For  the  eyes  of  God,  and  perhaps  also  of 
our  glorified  selves,  shall  as  really  behold  and  contem- 
plate the  world,  in  its  epitome  or  contracted  essence,  as 
now  it  doth  at  large  and  in  its  dilated  substance.  In 
the  seed  of  a  plant,  to  the  eyes  of  God,  and  to  the  under- 
standing of  man,  there  exists,  thovigh  in  an  invisible 
way,  the  perfect  leaves,  flowers,  and  fruit  thereof ;  for 
things  that  are  in  fosse  to  the  sense,  are  actually  existent 
to  the  imderstanding.  Thus  God  beholds  all  things, 
who  contemplates  as  fully  his  works  in  their  epitome 
as  in  their  full  volume,  and  beheld  as  amply  the  whole 
world,  in  that  little  compendium  of  the  sixth  day,  as 
in  the  scattered  and  dilated  pieces  of  those  five  before. 

Bed.  51. — Men  commonly  set  forth  the  torments  of  hell 
by  fije,  and  the  extremity  of  corporal  afilictions,  and 
describe  hell  in  the  same  method  that  Mahomet  doth 
heaven-  This  indeed  makes  a  noise,  and  drums  in 
popular  ears  :  but  if  this  be  the  terrible  piece  thereof,  it 
is  not  worthy  to  stand  in  diameter  with  heaven,  whose 
happiness  consists  in  that  part  that  is  best  able  to  com- 
prehend it,  that  immortal  essence,  that  translated  divinity 
and  colony  of  God,  the  soul.  Surely,  though  we  place 
hell  imder  earth,  the  devil's  walk  and  purlieu  is  about 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  69 

it.  Men  speak  too  popidtirly  who  place  it  in  those 
flaming  mountains,  which  to  grosser  apprehensions  re- 
present hell.  The  heait  of  man  is  the  place  the  devils 
dwell  in  ;  I  feel  sometimes  a  hell  witliin  myself ; 
Lucifer  keeps  his  court  in  my  breast ;  Legion  is  revived 
in  me.  There  are  as  many  hells  as  Anaxagoras^ 
conceited  worlds.  There  was  more  than  one  hell 
in  Magdalene,  when  there  were  seven  devils  ;  for  every 
devil  is  an  hell  imto  himself,®  he  holds  enough  of 
torture  in  his  own  uhi ;  and  needs  not  the  misery  of  cir- 
cumference to  afflict  him  :  and  thus,  a  distracted  con- 
science here  is  a  shadow  or  introduction  imto  hell  here- 
after. Who  can  but  pity  the  merciful  intention  of  those 
hands  that  do  destroy  themselves  /  The  devil,  were  it 
in  his  power,  would  do  the  like  ;  which  being  im- 
possible, his  miseries  are  endless,  and  he  suflers  most 
in  that  attribute  wherein  he  is  impassible,  his  im- 
mortality. 

Sect.  52. — I  thank  God,  and  with  joy  I  mention  it,  I 
was  never  afraid  of  hell,  nor  ever  grew  pale  at  the 
description  of  that  place.  I  have  so  fixed  my  contempla- 
tions on  heaven,  that  I  have  almost  forgot  the  idea  of 
hell ;  and  am  afraid  rather  to  lose  the  joys  of  the  one, 
than  endure  the  miserj'  of  the  other  :  to  be  deprived  of 
them  is  a  perfect  hell,  and  needs  methiuks  no  addition 
to  complete  our  atllictions.  That  terrible  term  hath 
never  detained  me  from  sin,  nor  do  I  owe  any  good 
action  to  the  name  thereof.  I  fear  God,  yet  am  not 
afraid  of  him  ;  his  mercies  make  me  ashamed  of  my 
sins,  lx;fore  his  judgments  afraid  thereof  :  these  are  the 
forced  and  Bccondary  method  of  his  wisdom,  which  he 
useth  but  as  the  last  remedy,  and  u])on  provocation  ; — 
a  course  rather  to  deter  the  wicked,  than  incite  the 
virtuous  to  his  worsliip.     I  can  hardly  think  there  was 


70  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

ever  any  scared  into  heaven  :  tliey  go  tlie  fairest  way  to 
heaven  that  would  serve  God  without  a  hell :  other 
mercenaries,  that  crouch  unto  him  in  fear  of  hell,  though 
they  term  themselves  the  servants,  are  indeed  but  the 
slaves,  of  the  Almighty, 

S>ed.  53. — And  to  he  true,  and  speak  my  soul,  when  I 
survey  the  occurrences  of  my  life,  and  call  into  account 
the  finger  of  God,  I  can  perceive  nothing  but  an  abyss 
and  mass  of  mercies,  either  in  general  to  mankind,  or  in 
particular  to  myself.   And,  whether  out  of  the  prejudice 
of  my  affection,  or  an  inverting  and  j)artial  conceit  of 
his  mercies,  I  know  not, — ^but  those  which  others  term 
crosses,  afflictions,  judgments,  misfortunes,  to  me,  who 
inquire  further  into  them  than  their  visible  effects,  they 
both  appear,  and  in  event  have  ever  proved,  the  secret 
and  dissembled  favours  of  his  affection.     It  is  a  singular 
piece  of  wisdom  to  apprehend  truly,  and  without  passion, 
the  works  of  God,  and  so  well  to  distinguish  his  justice 
from  his  mercy  as  not  to  miscall  those  noble  attributes ; 
yet  it  is  likemse  an  honest  piece  of  logick  so  to  dispute 
and  argue  the  proceedings  of  God  as  to  distinguish  even 
his  judgments  into  mercies.     For  God  is  merciful  unto 
all,  because  better  to  the  worst  than  the  best  deserve  ; 
and  to  say  he  punisheth  none  in  this  world,  though  it 
be  a  paradox,  is  no  absurdity.     To  one  that  hath  com- 
mitted murder,  if  the  judge  should  only  ordain  a  fine, 
it  were  a  madness  to  call  this  a  punishment,  and  to  re- 
pine at  the  sentence,  rather  than  admire  the  clemency 
of  the  judge.     Thus,  our  offences  being  mortal,  and 
deserving  not  only  death  but  damnation,  if  the  goodness 
of  God  be  content  to  traverse  and  pass  them  over  with 
a  loss,  misfortune,  or  disease  ;  what  frenzy  were  it  to 
term  tliis  a  pimishment,  rather  than  an  extremity  of 
mercy,  and  to  groan  under  the  rod  of  his  judgments 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  71 

rather  tbaii  admire  the  sceptre  of  his  mercies  !  Tliere- 
Ibre  to  adore,  honour,  and  admire  hiiu,  is  a  debt  of 
gratitude  due  from  the  obligation  of  oiir  nature,  states, 
and  conditions  :  and  with  these  thoughts  he  that  knows 
them  best  will  not  deny  that  1  adore  him.  That  1 
obtain  heaven,  and  the  bliss  thereof,  is  accidental,  and 
not  the  intended  work  of  my  devotion  ;  it  being  a 
felicity  I  can  neither  think  to  deserve  nor  scarce  in 
modesty  to  expect.  For  these  two  ends  of  us  all,  either 
as  rewjuds  or  punishments,  are  mercifully  ordained  and 
disproportionably  disposed  unto  our  actions  ;  the  one 
being  so  far  beyond  our  deserts,  the  other  so  infinitely 
below  our  demerits. 

Stci.  54. — There  is  no  salvation  to  those  that  believe 
not  in  Christ  ;  that  is,  say  some,  since  his  nativity,  and, 
SB  divinity  athrnieth,  before  also  ;  wliich  makes  me 
much  apprehend  the  end  of  those  honest  worthies  and 
]ihilosophers  which  died  before  his  incarnation.  It  is 
liard  to  place  those  souls  in  hell,  Avhose  worthy  lives  do 
teach  us  virtue  on  earth.  Methinks,  among  those  many 
Bubdivisions  of  hell,  there  might  have  been  one  limbo 
left  for  these.  What  a  strange  vision  wUl  it  be  to  see 
their  poetical  fictions  converted  into  verities,  and  their 
imagined  and  fancied  furies  into  real  devils  !  How 
strange  to  them  will  sound  the  history  of  Adam,  when 
they  shall  suffer  for  him  they  never  heard  of  !  Whoii 
they  who  derive  their  genealogy  from  the  gods,  shall 
know  they  are  the  unhappy  issue  of  sinful  nuiu  !  It  is 
an  insolent  part  of  reason,  to  controvert  the  works  of 
G(xl,  or  (luestion  the  justice  of  his  proceedings.  Could 
humility  teach  others,  as  it  hath  instructed  me,  to  con- 
template the  infinite  and  incomprehensible  distance  be- 
twixt the  Creator  and  the  creature  ;  or  did  we  seriously 
perjJtud  that  one  simile  of  St  Taul,  "shall  the  ves.sel  say 


72  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

to  the  potter,  why  hasst  thou  made  me  thus  1 "  it  would 
prevent  these  arrogant  disputes  of  reason  :  nor  would 
we  argue  the  definitive  sentence  of  God,  either  to  heaven 
or  hell.  Men  that  live  according  to  the  right  rule  and 
law  of  reason,  live  but  in  their  own  kind,  as  beasts  do 
in  theirs ;  who  justly  obey  the  prescript  of  their  natures, 
and  therefore  cannot  reasonably  demand  a  reward  of 
their  actions,  as  only  obeying  the  natural  dictates  of 
their  reason.  It  will,  therefore,  and  must,  at  last 
appear,  that  all  salvation  is  through  Christ  ;  which 
verity,  I  fear,  these  great  examples  of  virtue  must  con- 
firm, and  make  it  good  how  the  perfectest  actions  of 
earth  have  no  title  or  claim  unto  heaven. 

Sect.  55. — Nor  truly  do  I  tliink  the  lives  of  these,  or 
of  any  other,  were  ever  correspondent,  or  in  all  points 
conformable,  imto  their  doctrines.  It  is  evident  that 
Aristotle  transgressed  the  rule  of  his  own  ethicks  ;  ^" 
the  stoicks,  that  condemn  passion,  and  command  a  man 
to  laugh  in  Phalaris's  ^^  bull,  could  not  endure  without  a 
groan  a  fit  of  the  stone  or  colick.  The  scepticks,  that 
affirmed  they  knew  nothing,'^^  even  in  that  opinion  con- 
fute themselves,  and  thought  they  knew  more  than  all 
the  world  beside.  Diogenes  I  hold  to  be  the  most  vain- 
glorious man  of  his  time,  and  more  ambitious  in  refus- 
ing all  honours,  than  Alexander  in  rejecting  none.  Vice 
and  the  devil  put  a  fallacy  upon  our  reasons  ;  and, 
provoking  us  too  hastily  to  run  from  it,  entangle  and 
profound  us  deeper  in  it.  The  duke  of  Venice,  tliat 
weds  himself  unto  the  sea,  by  a  ring  of  gold,  ''3  I  will 
not  accuse  of  prodigality,  because  it  is  a  solemnity  of 
good  use  and  consequence  in  the  state  :  but  the  philoso- 
pher, that  threw  his  money  into  the  sea  to  avoid  avarice, 
was  a  notorious  prodigal.  7*  There  is  no  road  or  ready 
way  to  virtue  ;  it  is  not  an  easy  point  of  art  to  dis- 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  73 

entangle  ourselves  from  this  riddle  or  web  of  sin.  To 
perfect  virtue,  as  to  religion,  there  is  required  a  panoplia, 
or  complete  armour  ;  that  whilst  we  lie  at  close  ward 
against  one  vice,  we  lie  not  open  to  the  veney  ^5  of 
another.  And  indeed  wiser  discretions,  that  have  the 
thread  of  reason  to  conduct  them,  oflend  without  a 
pardon  ;  whereas  under  heiids  may  stumble  without 
dishonour.  There  go  so  many  circumstances  to  piece 
up  one  good  action,  that  it  is  a  lesson  to  be  good,  and 
M-e  are  forced  to  be  virtuous  by  the  book.  Again,  the 
practice  of  men  holds  not  an  equal  pace,  yea  and  often 
runs  counter  to  their  theory  ;  we  naturally  know  what 
is  good,  but  naturally  pursue  what  is  evil :  the  rhetorick 
wherewith  I  persuade  another  cannot  pei-suade  myself. 
There  is  a  depraved  appetite  in  us,  that  will  with 
patience  hear  the  learned  instructions  of  reason,  but 
yet  perfoma  no  further  than  agrees  to  its  own  irregular 
humour.  In  brief,  we  all  are  mojisters  ;  that  is,  a  com- 
position of  man  and  beast :  wherein  we  must  endeavour 
to  be  as  the  poets  fancy  that  wise  man,  Chiron  ;  that  is, 
to  have  the  region  of  man  above  that  of  beast,  and  sense 
to  sit  but  at  the  feet  of  reason.  Lastly,  I  do  desire  with 
God  that  all,  but  yet  atlirm  with  men  that  few,  shall 
know  salvation, — that  the  bridge  is  narrow,  the  p;^ssJ:^;e 
strait  unto  life  :  yet  those  who  do  confine  the  church 
of  God  either  to  particular  nations,  churches,  or 
families,  have  made  it  far  narrower  than  our  Saviour 
ever  meant  it. 

Sect.  5G. — The  vulgarity  of  those  judgments  that  wrap 
the  church  of  God  in  Strabo's  cloak,  T"  and  restrain  it 
unto  Europe,  seem  to  me  as  bad  geographers  as  Alex- 
ander, who  thought  he  had  conquered  all  the  world, 
when  he  had  not  suljdued  the  half  of  any  part  thereof. 
For  we  cannot  deny  the  church  of  God  both  in  Asia 


74  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

and  Africa,  if  we  do  not  forget  the  peregrinations  of 
tlie  apostles,  the  deaths  of  the  martyrs,  the  sessions  of 
many  and  (even  in  our  reformed  judgment)  lawful 
councils,  held  in  those  parts  in  the  minority  and 
nonage  of  ours.  Nor  must  a  few  differences,  more  re- 
markable in  the  eyes  of  man  than,  perhaps,  in  the 
judgment  of  God,  excommunicate  from  heaven  one  an- 
other ;  much  less  those  Christians  who  are  in  a  manner 
all  martyrs,  maintaining  their  faith  in  the  noble  way 
of  persecution,  and  serving  God  in  the  fire,  whereas 
we  honour  him  in  the  sunshine. 

'Tis  true,  we  all  hold  there  is  a  number  of  elect,  and 
many  to  be  saved  ;  yet,  take  our  opinions  together,  and 
from  the  confusion  thereof,  there  will  be  no  such  thing 
as  salvation,  nor  shall  any  one  be  saved  :  for,  first,  the 
church  of  Rome  condemneth  us  ;  we  likewise  them  ; 
the  sub-reformists  and  sectaries  sentence  the  doctrine  of 
our  church  as  damnable  ;  the  atomist,  or  familist,'^  re- 
probates all  these  ;  and  all  these,  them  again.  Thus, 
whilst  the  mercies  of  God  do  promise  us  heaven,  our 
conceits  and  opinions  exclude  us  from  that  place.  There 
must  be  therefore  more  than  one  St  Peter  ;  particular 
churches  and  sects  usurp  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  turn 
the  key  against  each  other  ;  and  thus  we  go  to  heaven 
against  each  other's  wills,  conceits,  and  opinions,  and, 
with  as  much  uncharity  as  ignorance,  do  err,  I  fear,  in 
points  not  only  of  our  own,  but  one  another's  salvation. 

&e,d.  57. — I  believe  many  are  saved  who  to  man 
seem  reprobated,  and  many  are  reprobated  who  in  the 
opinion  and  sentence  of  man  stand  elected.  There  will 
appear,  at  the  last  day,  strange  and  unexpected  examples, 
both  of  his  justice  and  his  mercy  ;  and,  therefore,  to 
define  either  is  folly  in  man,  and  insolency  even  in  the 
devils.     Those  acute  and  subtile  spirits,  in  all  their 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  75 

sagacity,  can  hardly  diNine  who  shall  be  saved  ;  which 
if  they  could  prognostick,  their  labour  were  at  an  end, 
nor  need  they  compass  the  earth,  seeking  whom  they 
may  devour.  Those  who,  upon  a  rigid  application  of 
the  law,  sentence  Solomon  unto  damnationj^i*  condemn 
not  only  him,  but  themselves,  and  the  whole  world  ; 
for  by  the  letter  and  written  word  of  God,  we  are  with- 
out exception  in  the  state  of  death  :  but  there  is  a  pre- 
rogative of  God,  and  an  arbitrary  pleasure  above  the 
letter  of  his  own  law,  by  which  alone  we  can  pretend 
unto  salvation,  and  through  which  Solomon  might  be  as 
easQy  saved  as  those  who  condemn  him. 

Sect.  58. — The  number  of  those  who  pretend  unto 
salvation,  and  those  infinite  swarms  who  think  to  pass 
through  the  eye  of  tliis  needle,  have  much  amazed  me. 
That  name  and  compellation  of  "  little  flock  "  doth  not 
comfort,  but  deject,  my  devotion  ;  especially  when  I 
reflect  upon  mine  ONvn  unwortliiness,  wherein,  accord- 
ing to  my  humble  apprehensions,  I  am  below  them  all. 
I  believe  there  shall  never  be  an  anarchy  in  heaven  ; 
but,  as  there  are  hierarchies  amongst  the  angels,  so  shall 
there  be  degrees  of  priority  amongst  the  saints.  Yet  is 
it,  I  protest,  beyond  my  ambition  to  aspire  \mto  the 
first  ranks  ;  my  desires  only  are,  and  I  shall  be  hapi)y 
therein,  to  be  but  the  last  man,  and  bring  up  the  rear 
in  heaven. 

Htci.  59. — Again,  I  am  confident,  and  fully  persuaded, 
yet  dare  not  take  my  oath,  of  my  salvation.  I  am,  as  it 
were,  sure,  and  do  believe  without  all  doubt,  that  there 
is  such  a  city  as  Constantinople  ;  yet,  for  me  to  take 
my  oath  thereon  were  a  kind  of  perjury,  because  I  hold 
no  infallible  warrant  from  my  own  sense  to  confirm 
me  in  the  certainty  thereof.  And  truly,  though  many 
pretc'ud  to  an  absolute  certainty  of  their  tsalvatiou,  yet 


76  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

when  an  humble  soul  shall  contemplate  our  own  un- 
worthiness,  she  shall  meet  with  many  doubts,  and  sud- 
denly find  how  little  we  stand  in  need  of  the  precept  of 
St  Paul,  "  work  out  your  salvation  with  fear  and  trem- 
hling."  Thatwhich  is  the  cause  of  my  election,  Ihold  to 
be  the  cause  of  my  salvation,  which  was  the  mercy  and 
heneplacit  of  God,  before  I  was,  or  the  foundation  of  the 
world.  "  Before  Abraham  was,  I  am,"  is  the  saying  of 
Christ,  yet  is  it  true  in  some  sense  if  I  say  it  of  myself; 
for  I  was  not  only  before  myseK  but  Adam,  that  is,  in 
the  idea  of  God,  and  the  decree  of  that  synod  held  from 
all  eternity.  And  in  this  sense,  I  say,  the  world  was 
before  the  creation,  and  at  an  end  before  it  had  a 
beginning.  And  thus  was  I  dead  before  I  was  alive  ; 
though  my  grave  be  England,  my  dying  place  was 
Paradise  ;  and  Eve  miscarried  of  me,  before  she  con- 
ceived of  Cain. 

Sect.  60. — Insolent  zeals,  that  do  decry  good  works 
and  rely  only  upon  faith,  take  not  away  merit :  for, 
depending  upon  the  efficacy  of  their  faith,  they  enforce 
the  condition  of  God,  and  in  a  more  sophistical  way  do 
seem  to  challenge  heaven.  It  was  decreed  by  God  that 
only  those  that  lapped  in  the  water  like  dogs,  should 
have  the  honour  to  destroy  the  Midianites  ;  yet  could 
none  of  those  justly  challenge,  or  imagine  he  deserved, 
that  honour  thereupon.  I  do  not  deny  but  that  true 
faith,  and  such  as  God  requires,  is  not  only  a  mark  or 
token,  but  also  a  means,  of  our  salvation  ;  but,  where 
to  find  this,  is  as  obscure  to  me  as  my  last  end.  And 
if  our  Saviour  could  object,  unto  his  own  disciples  and 
favourites,  a  faith  that,  to  the  quantity  of  a  grain  of 
mustard  seed,  is  able  to  remove  mountains  ;  surely  that 
which  we  boast  of  is  not  anything,  or,  at  the  most,  but 
a  remove  from  nothing. 


REIJGIO  MEDICI.  77 

This  is  the  tenoiir  of  my  belief ;  wherein,  though 
there  be  many  things  eingular,  and  to  the  humour  of 
my  irreguL-u:  self,  yet-,  if  they  square  not  ^vith  matiirer 
judgments,  I  disclaim  them,  and  do  no  further  favoui 
them  than  the  learned  and  best  judgments  shall  authorize 
them. 


PART  THE  SECOND. 

S^d.  1. — Now,  for  that  other  virtue  of  charity,  without 
which  faith  is  a  mere  notion  and  of  no  existence,  I  have 
ever  endeavoured  to  nourish  the  merciful  disposition 
and  humane  inclination  I  borrowed  from  my  parents, 
and  regulate  it  to  the  wTitten  and  prescribed  laws  of 
charity.  And,  if  I  hold  the  true  anatomy  of  myself,  I 
am  delineated  and  naturally  framed  to  such  a  piece  of 
\'irtue, — for  I  am  of  a  constitution  so  general  that  it 
consorts  and  sympathizeth  witli  aU  things  ;  I  have  no 
antipatliy,  or  rather  idiosyncrasy,  in  diet,  humour,  air, 
anything.  I  wonder  not  at  the  French  for  their  dishes 
of  frogs,  snails,  and  toadstools,  nor  at  the  Jews  for  locusts 
and  grasshoppers ;  but,  being  amongst  them,  make 
them  my  common  viands  ;  and  I  find  they  agree  with 
my  stomach  as  well  as  theirs.  I  could  digest  a  salad 
gathered  in  a  church-yard  as  well  as  in  a  garden.  I 
cannot  start  at  tlie  presence  of  a  serpent,  scorpion,  lizard, 
or  salamander  ;  at  the  sight  of  a  toad  or  viper,  I  find  in 
me  no  desire  to  take  up  a  stone  to  destroy  them.  I  feel 
not  in  myself  those  common  antipatliies  that  I  can  dis- 
cover in  others  :  those  national  repugnances  do  not 
touch  me,  nor  do  I  beliold  with  prejudice  the  French, 
Italian,  Spaniard,  or  Dutcli  ;  but,  where  I  find  their 


78  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

actions  in  balance  with  my  countrymen's,  I  honour,  love, 
and  embrace  them,  in  the  same  degree.  I  was  born  in 
the  eighth  climate,  but  seem  to  be  framed  and  constel- 
lated unto  all.  I  am  no  plant  that  will  not  prosper  out 
of  a  garden.  All  places,  aU  airs,  make  unto  me  one 
country  ;  I  am  in  England  everywhere,  and  under  any 
meridian.  I  have  been  shipT\Tecked,  yet  am  not  enemy 
with  the  sea  or  winds  ;  I  can  study,  play,  or  sleep,  in  a 
tempest.  In  brief  I  am  averse  from  nothing  :  my  con- 
science would  give  me  the  lie  if  I  should  say  I  abso- 
lutely detest  or  hate  any  essence,  but  the  devil  ;  or  so 
at  least  abhor  anything,  but  that  we  might  come  to 
composition.  If  there  be  any  among  those  common 
objects  of  hatred  I  do  contemn  and  laugh  at,  it  is  that 
great  enemy  of  reason,  virtue,  and  religion,  the  mul- 
titude ;  that  numerous  piece  of  monstrosity,  which, 
taken  asunder,  seem  men,  and  the  reasonable  creatures 
of  God,  but,  confused  together,  make  but  one  great 
beast,  and  a  monstrosity  more  prodigious  than  Hydra. 
It  is  no  breach  of  charity  to  call  these  fools  ;  it  is  the 
style  all  holy  writers  have  afforded  them,  set  down  by 
Solomon  in  canonical  Scripture,  and  a  point  of  our  faith 
to  believe  so.  Neither  in  the  name  of  multitude  do  I 
only  include  the  base  and  minor  sort  of  people  :  there 
is  a  rabble  even  amongst  the  gentry;  a  sort  of  plebeian 
heads,  whose  fancy  moves  with  the  same  wheel  as  these ; 
men  in  the  same  level  with  mechanicks,  though  their 
fortunes  do  somewhat  gild  their  infirmities,  and  their 
purses  compovmd  for  their  follies.  But,  as  in  casting 
account  three  or  four  men  together  come  short  in  account 
of  one  man  placed  by  himself  below  them,  so  neither 
are  a  troop  of  these  ignorant  Doradoes''^  of  that  true 
esteem  and  value  as  many  a  forlorn  person,  whose  con- 
dition doth  place  him  below  their  feet.     Let  us  speak 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  79 

like  politicians  ;  there  is  a  nobility  without  hemlilry,  a 
natural  dignity,  whereby  one  man  is  ranked  with 
another,  another  filed  before  him,  according  to  the 
quality  of  his  desert,  and  pre-eminence  of  his  good  parts. 
Though  the  corruption  of  these  times,  and  the  bias  of 
present  practice,  wheel  another  way,  thus  it  was  in  the 
first  and  primitive  commonwealths,  and  is  yet  in  the  in- 
tegrity and  cradle  of  well  ordered  polities  :  till  corrup- 
tion getteth  ground  ; — ruder  desires  labouring  after  that 
which  wiser  considerations  contemn  ; — every  one  having 
a  liberty  to  amass  and  heap  up  riches,  and  they  a  licence 
or  faculty  to  do  or  purchase  anything. 

Sect.  2. — This  general  and  indilferent  temper  of  mine 
doth  more  nearly  dispose  me  to  this  noble  virtue.  It  is 
a  happiness  to  be  born  and  framed  unto  virtue,  and  to 
grow  up  from  the  seeds  of  nature,  rather  than  the 
inoculations  and  forced  grafts  of  education  :  yet,  if  we 
are  directed  only  by  our  particular  natures,  and  regulate 
our  inclinations  by  no  higher  rule  than  that  of  our 
reasons,  we  are  but  moralists  ;  divinity  will  still  call  us 
heathens.  Therefore  tliis  great  work  of  charity  must 
have  other  motives,  ends,  and  impulsions.  I  give  no 
alms  to  satisfy  the  hunger  of  my  brother,  but  to  fulfil 
and  accomplish  the  will  and  command  of  my  God  ;  I 
draw  not  my  purse  for  his  sake  that  demands  it,  but  his 
that  enjoined  it ;  I  relieve  no  man  upon  the  rhetorick 
of  his  miseries,  nor  to  content  mine  own  commiserating 
disposition  ;  for  this  is  still  but  moral  charity,  and  an 
act  that  oweth  more  to  passion  than  reason.  He  that 
relieves  another  upon  the  bare  suggestion  and  bowels  of 
pity  doth  not  this  so  much  for  his  sake  as  for  his  own  : 
for  by  compassion  we  make  another's  misery  our  own  ; 
and  so,  by  relieving  them,  we  relieve  ourselves  also. 
It  is  as  erroneous  a  conceit  to   redress  other  men's 


8o  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

misfortunes  upon  the  common  considerations  of  merciful 
natures,  that  it  may  be  one  day  our  own  case  ;  for  this 
is  a  sinister  and  politick  kind  of  charity,  whereby  we 
seem  to  bespeak  the  pities  of  men  in  the  like  occasions. 
And  truly  I  have  observed  that  those  professed  eleemo- 
synaries, though  in  a  crowd  or  multitude,  do  yet  direct 
and  place  their  petitions  on  a  few  and  selected  persons ; 
there  is  surely  a  physiognomy,  which  those  experienced 
and  master  mendicants  observe,  whereby  they  instantly 
discover  a  merciful  aspect,  and  will  single  out  a  face, 
wherein  they  spy  the  signatures  and  marks  of  mercy 
For  there  are  mystically  in  our  faces  certain  character? 
which  carry  in  them  the  motto  of  our  soids,  wherein  he 
that  can  read  A,  B,  C,  may  read  our  natures.  I  hold, 
moreover,  that  there  is  a  phytognomy,  or  physiognomy, 
not  only  of  men,  but  of  plants  and  vegetables  ;  and  in 
every  one  of  them  some  outward  figures  which  hang  as 
signs  or  bushes  of  their  inward  forms.  The  finger  of 
God  hath  left  an  inscription  upon  aU  his  works,  not 
graphical,  or  composed  of  letters,  but  of  their  several 
forms,  constitutions,  parts,  and  operations,  which,  aptly 
joined  together,  do  make  one  word  that  doth  express 
their  natures.  By  these  letters  God  calls  the  stai's  by 
their  names  ;  and  by  tliis  alphabet  Adam  assigned  to 
every  creature  a  name  peculiar  to  its  nature.  Now, 
there  are,  besides  these  characters  in  our  faces,  certain 
mystical  figures  in  our  hands,  which  I  dare  not  call 
mere  dashes,  strokes  d  la  volee  or  at  random,  because 
delineated  by  a  pencil  that  never  works  in  vain  ;  and 
hereof  I  take  more  particular  notice,  because  I  cany 
that  in  mine  own  hand  wliich  I  could  never  read  of  nor 
discover  in  another.  Aristotle,  I  confess,  in  his  acute 
and  singular  book  of  physiognomy,  hath  made  no 
mention  of  chiromancy  :  ^^  yet  I  believe  the  Egyptians, 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  8i 

who  were  nearer  addicted  to  those  abstruse  aiid  mysti- 
cal sciences,  had  a  knowledge  therein  :  to  which  those 
vagabond  and  counterfeit  Egj^tians  did  after  "  pretend 
iind  perhaps  retained  a  few  corrupted  principles,  which 
sometimes  might  verify  their  prognosticks. 

It  is  the  common  wonder  of  all  men,  how,  among  so 
many  millions  of  faces,  there  should  be  none  alike  : 
now,  contrary-,  I  wonder  as  much  how  there  should  be 
any.  He  that  shall  consider  how  many  thousand 
several  words  have  been  cartdessly  and  without  study 
composed  out  of  twenty-four  letters  ;  withal,  how  many 
liundred  lines  there  are  to  be  drawn  in  the  fabrick  of 
one  man  ;  shall  easily  find  that  this  variety  is  necessary' : 
and  it  will  be  very  hard  that  they  shall  so  concur  as  to 
make  one  portrait  like  another.  Let  a  jiainter  carelessly 
limn  out  a  million  of  faces,  and  you  shall  find  them  all 
different  ;  yea,  let  him  have  his  copy  before  him,  yet, 
after  aU  his  art,  there  wiU  remain  a  sensible  distinction  : 
for  the  pattern  or  example  of  everything  is  the  perfectest 
in  that  kind,  whereof  we  still  come  short,  though  we 
transcend  or  go  beyond  it ;  because  herein  it  is  wide, 
and  agrees  not  in  all  points  unto  its  copy.  Nor  doth 
the  similitude  of  creatures  disparage  the  variety  of 
nature,  nor  any  way  confound  the  works  of  God.  For 
even  in  things  alike  there  is  diversity  ;  and  those  that 
do  seem  to  accord  do  manifestly  disagree.  And  thus  is 
man  like  Gfxl  ;  for,  in  tlie  same  things  that  we  resemble 
liim  we  are  utterly  different  from  him.  There  was 
never  anytliing  so  like  another  as  in  all  points  to 
concur ;  there  will  ever  some  reserved  diflfereuce  sli]) 
in,  to  prevent  tlie  identity  ;  without  whicli  two  several 
things  would  not  be  alike,  but  tlie  same,  which  is 
imjxMwible. 

^cl.  3.— But,  to  return  from  philosoi)hy  to  charity,  I 

I' 


82  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

liold  not  so  narrow  a  conceit  of  this  virtue  as  to  con- 
ceive that  to  give  alms  is  only  to  be  charitable,  or  thiak 
a  piece  of  liberality  can  comprehend  the  total  of  charity. 
Divinity  hath  wisely  divided  the  act  thereof  into  many 
branches,  and  hath  taught  us,  in  this  narrow  way,  many 
paths  imto  goodness  ;  as  many  ways  as  we  may  do  good, 
so  many  ways  we  may  be  charitable.  There  are  in- 
firmities not  only  of  body,  but  of  soul  and  fortunes, 
which  do  require  the  merciful  hand  of  our  abilities.  I 
cannot  contemn  a  man  for  ignorance,  but  behold  him 
with  as  much  pity  as  I  do  Lazarus.  It  is  no  greater 
charity  to  clothe  his  body  than  apparel  the  nakedness 
of  his  soul.  It  is  an  honourable  object  to  see  the 
reasons  of  other  men  wear  our  liveries,  and  their 
borrowed  understandings  do  homage  to  the  bounty  of 
ours.  It  is  the  cheapest  way  of  beneficence,  and,  like 
the  natural  charity  of  the  sun,  illuminates  another 
without  obscuring  itself.  To  be  reserved  and  caitifif^ 
in  this  part  of  goodness  is  the  sordidest  piece  of  covetous- 
ness,  and  more  contemptible  than  the  pecuniary  avarice. 
To  this  (as  calling  myself  a  scholar)  I  am  obliged  by 
the  duty  of  my  condition.  I  make  not  therefore  my 
head  a  grave,  but  a  treasure  of  knowledge.  I  intend  no 
monopoly,  but  a  community  in  learning,  I  study  not 
for  my  own  sake  only,  but  for  theirs  that  study  not  for 
themselves.  I  envy  no  man  that  knows  more  than 
myself,  but  pity  them  that  know  less.  I  instruct  no 
man  as  an  exercise  of  my  knowledge,  or  with  an  intent 
rather  to  nourish  and  keep  it  alive  in  mine  own  head 
than  beget  and  propagate  it  in  his.  And,  in  the  midst 
of  all  my  endeavours,  there  is  but  one  thought  that 
dejects  me,  that  my  acquired  parts  must  perish  with 
myself,  nor  can  be  legacied  among  my  honoured  friends. 
I  cannot  fall  out  or  contemn  a  man  for  an  error,  or 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  83 

conceive  why  a  difference  in  opinion  should  di\'ide  an 
aft'ection  ;  for  controversies,  disputes,  and  argumenta- 
tiou.-s,  both  in  pliilosoi^hy  and  in  divdnity,  if  they  meet 
with  discreet  and  ijeaceable  natures,  do  nut  infringe  the 
laws  of  charity.  In  all  disputes,  so  much  as  there  is  of 
I>assion,  so  much  there  is  of  notliing  to  the  purpose  ;  for 
then  reason,  like  a  bad  hound,  spends  upon  a  false  scent, 
and  forsakes  the  question  first  started.  And  tliis  is  one 
reason  why  controversies  are  never  determined  ;  for, 
though  they  be  amply  proposed,  they  are  scarce  at  all 
handled  ;  they  do  so  swell  \s-ith  unnecessary  digressions; 
and  the  parenthesis  on  the  party  is  often  as  large  as  the 
main  discourse  upon  the  subject.  The  foundations  of 
religion  are  already  established,  and  the  principles  of 
salvation  subscribed  unto  by  alL  There  remain  not 
many  controversies  worthy  a  passion,  and  yet  never  any 
dispute  •without,  not  only  in  divinity  but  inferior  arts. 
"Wliat  a  paTpaxo/ji.vofiaxia  and  hot  skirmish  is  betwixt  S. 
and  T.  in  Lucian !  **  How  do  grammarians  hack  and 
slash  for  the  genitive  case  in  Jupiter  V*  How  do  they 
break  their  own  pates,  to  salve  that  of  Priscian  !'*  "Si 
foret  in  terris,  rideret  Democritus."  Yea,  even  amongst 
wiser  militants,  how  many  wounds  have  been  given  and 
credits  slain,  for  the  poor  victory  of  an  opinion,  or 
beggarly  conquest  of  a  distinction  !  Scholars  are  men 
of  peace,  they  bear  no  arms,  but  their  tongues  are 
sharper  than  Actius's  razor  ;"  their  pens  carry  farther, 
and  give  a  louder  report  than  thimder.  I  had  rather 
stand  the  shock  of  a  ba-silisko"  than  in  the  fury  of 
a  merciless  pen.  It  is  not  mere  zeal  to  learning,  or 
devotion  to  the  muses,  that  wiser  princes  patron  the 
arts,  and  carry  an  indulgent  aspect  unto  scholars ;  but 
a  deaire  to  have  their  names  eternized  by  the  memory 
of  their  writings,  and  a  fear  of  the  revengeful  pen  of 


84  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

succeeding  ages  :  for  these  are  the  men  that,  when  they 
have  played  their  parts,  and  had  their  exits,  must  step 
out  and  give  the  moral  of  their  scenes,  and  deliver  imto 
posterity  an  inventory  of  their  virtues  and  vices.  And 
surely  there  goes  a  great  deal  of  conscience  to  the 
compiling  of  an  history  :  there  is  no  reproach  to  the 
scandal  of  a  story  ;  it  is  such  an  authentick  kind  of 
falsehood,  that  with  authority  helies  our  good  names  to 
all  nations  and  posterity. 

Bed.  4. — There  is  another  offence  unto  charity,  which 
no  author  hath  ever  written  of,  and  few  take  notice  of, 
and  that 's  the  reproach,  not  of  whole  professions,  mys- 
teries, and  conditions,  but  of  whole  nations,  whereia  by 
opprobrious  epithets  we  miscall  each  other,  and,  by  an 
imcharitable  logick,  from  a  disposition  in  a  few,  con- 
clude a  habit  in  alL 

Le  mutin  Anglois,  et  le  bravache  Escossois 
Le  bougre  Italien,  et  le  fol  Fran9ois  ; 
Le  i^oltron  Eomain,  le  larron  de  Gascogne, 
L'Espagnol  superbe,  et  rAlleman  yvrogne. 

St  Paul,  that  calls  the  Cretians  liars,  doth  it  but  in- 
directly, and  upon  quotation  of  their  own  poet.*'  It  is 
as  bloody  a  thought  in  one  way  as  Nero's  was  in 
another.^'  For  by  a  word  we  wound  a  thousand,  and 
at  one  blow  assassin  the  honour  of  a  nation.  It  is  as 
complete  a  piece  of  madness  to  miscall  and  rave  against 
the  times  ;  or  think  to  recall  men  to  reason  by  a  fit  of 
passion.  Democritus,  that  thought  to  laugh  the  times 
into  goodness,  seems  to  me  as  deeply  hypochondriack 
as  Heraclitus,  that  bewailed  them.  It  moves  not  my 
spleen  to  behold  the  multitude  in  their  proper  humours  ; 
that  is,  in  their  fits  of  folly  and  madness,  as  well  tmder- 
Btanding  that  wisdom  is  not  profaned  imto  the  world  ; 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  S5 

and  it  is  the  privilege  of  a  few  to  be  Wrtuous.  They 
that  endeavour  to  abolish  \'ice  destroy  also  \irtue  ;  for 
contraries,  though  they  destroy  one  another,  are  yet 
the  life  of  one  another.  Thus  Wrtue  (abolish  \'ice)  is 
an  idea.  Again,  the  community  of  sin  doth  not  dis- 
pai-age  goodness  ;  for,  when  Adce  gains  upon  the  major 
part,  virtue,  in  whom  it  remains,  becomes  more  excel- 
lent, and,  being  lost  in  some,  multiplies  its  goodness  in 
others,  which  remain  untouched,  and  persist  entire  in 
the  general  inundation.  I  can  therefore  behold  vice 
without  a  satire,  content  only  with  an  admonition,  or 
instructive  reprehension  ;  for  noble  natures,  and  such 
as  are  capable  of  goodness,  are  railed  into  vice,  that 
might  as  easily  be  admonished  into  virtue  ;  and  we 
should  be  all  so  far  the  orators  of  goodness  as  to  protect 
her  from  the  power  of  vice,  and  maintain  the  cause  of 
injured  truth.  No  man  can  justly  censure  or  coudo.nin 
another  ;  because,  indeed,  no  man  truly  knows  another. 
This  I  perceive  in  myself ;  for  I  am  in  the  dark  to  all 
the  world,  and  my  neiirest  friends  behold  me  but  in  a 
cloud.  Those  that  know  me  but  superficially  think 
k-ss  of  me  than  I  do  of  myself ;  those  of  my  near  ac- 
quaintance think  more  ;  God  who  truly  knows  me, 
knows  that  I  am  nothing  :  for  he  only  beholds  me,  and 
all  the  world,  who  looks  not  on  us  through  a  derived 
ray,  or  a  trajection  of  a  sensible  species,  but  beholds  the 
substance  witliout  the  help  of  accidents,  and  the  forms 
of  things,  as  we  their  operations.  Further,  no  man  can 
judge  another,  because  no  man  knows  himself;  for  we 
(•ensure  others  but  as  they  disagree  from  that  humour 
which  we  fancy  laudable  in  ourselves,  and  commend 
others  but  fur  that  wherein  they  seem  to  quadrate  and 
consent  with  us.  So  that  in  conclusion,  all  is  but  tliat 
we  all  condemn,  self-love.     'Tis  the  general  complaint 


86  RELIGIO  MEDICL 

of  these  times,  and  perhaps  of  those  past,  that  charity 
grows  cold ;  which  I  perceive  most  verified  in  those 
which  most  do  manifest  the  fires  and  flames  of  zeal ; 
for  it  is  a  virtue  that  best  agrees  with  coldest  natures, 
and  such  as  are  complexioned  for  humility.  But  how 
shall  we  expect  charity  towards  others,  when  we  are 
uncharitable  to  ou.rselves  ?  "  Charity  begins  at  home," 
is  the  voice  of  the  world  ;  yet  is  every  man  his  greatest 
enemy,  and  as  it  were  his  own  executioner.  "  Non  occides" 
is  the  conunandment  of  God,  yet  scarce  observed  by  any 
man  ;  for  I  perceive  every  man  is  his  own  Atropos,  and 
lends  a  hand  to  cut  the  thread  of  his  o-\\ti  days.  Caia 
was  not  therefore  the  first  murderer,  but  Adam,  who 
brought  in  death  ;  whereof  he  beheld  the  practice  and 
example  in  his  own  son  Abel ;  and  saw  that  verified  in 
the  experience  of  another  which  faith  could  not  per- 
suade liini  in  the  theory  of  himself. 

Beet  5. — There  is,  I  think,  no  man  that  apprehends 
his  owTi  miseries  less  than  myself ;  and  no  man  that  so 
nearly  apprehends  another's.  I  could  lose  an  arm 
without  a  tear,  and  with  few  groans,  methinks,  be 
quartered  into  pieces ;  yet  can  I  weep  most  seriously 
at  a  play,  and  receive  with  a  true  passion  the  counter- 
feit griefs  of  those  known  and  professed  impostures.  It 
is  a  barbarous  part  of  inhmnanity  to  add  unto  any 
afflicted  parties  misery,  or  endeavour  to  multiply  in 
any  man  a  passion  whose  single  natiixe  is  already  above 
his  patience.  This  was  the  greatest  affliction  of  Job, 
and  those  oblique  expostulations  of  liis  friends  a  deeper 
injury  than  the  do-wm-right  blows  of  the  devil.  It  is 
not  the  tears  of  our  own  eyes  only,  but  of  our  friends 
also,  that  do  exhaust  the  current  of  our  sorrows  ;  which, 
falling  into  many  streams,  rims  more  peaceably,  and  is 
contented  with  a  narrower  channel.    It  is  an  act  wathin 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  87 

the  power  of  charity,  to  translate  a  passion  out  of  one 
breast  into  another,  and  to  divide  a  sorrow  almost  out 
of  itself ;  for  an  affliction,  like  a  dimension,  may  be  so 
divided  as,  if  not  indivisible,  at  least  to  become  in- 
sensible. Now  with  my  friend  I  desire  not  to  share  or 
j)articipate,  but  to  engross,  his  sorrows  ;  that,  by  mak- 
ing them  mine  own,  I  may  more  easily  discuss  them  : 
for  in  mine  own  reason,  and  within  myself,  I  can  com- 
mand that  which  I  cannot  entreat  without  myself,  and 
within  the  cii'cle  of  another.  I  have  often  thought 
those  noble  paii-s  and  examples  of  friendship,  not  so 
truly  histories  of  what  had  been,  as  fictions  of  what 
should  be  ;  but  I  now  perceive  nothing  in  them  but 
possibilities,  nor  anything  in  the  heroick  examples  of 
Damon  and  Pythias,  Acliilles  and  Patroclus,  whicli, 
methinks,  upon  some  grounds,  I  could  not  perform 
within  the  narrow  com])ass  of  myself.  That  a  man 
should  lay  down  his  life  fur  his  friend  seems  strange  to 
vulgar  affections  and  such  as  confine  themselves  within 
that  worldly  principle,  "  Charity  begins  at  home."  For 
mine  o^^'n  part,  I  could  never  remember  the  relations 
that  I  held  unto  myself,  nor  the  respect  that  I  owe  imto 
my  own  nature,  in  the  cause  of  God,  my  country,  and 
my  friends.  Next  to  these  three,  I  do  embrace  myself. 
1  confess  1  do  not  observe  that  order  that  the  schools 
ordain  our  affections, — to  love  our  parents,  wives,  chil- 
dren, and  then  our  friends ;  fur,  excepting  the  injimc- 
tions  of  religion,  I  do  not  find  in  myself  such  a  neces- 
sarj'  and  indissoluble  sympathy  to  all  those  of  my  blood. 
I  hope  I  do  not  break  the  fifth  commandment,  if  I 
conceive  I  may  love  my  friend  before  tlie  nearest  of  my 
blood,  even  those  to  whom  I  owe  the  principles  of  life. 
I  never  yet  cast  a  true  aflfection  on  a  woman  ;  but  I 
have  loved  my  friend,  as  I  do  virtue,  my  soul,  my  God. 


88  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

From  hence,  methinks,  I  do  conceive  how  God  loves 
man  ;  what  happiness  there  is'  in  the  love  of  God. 
Omitting  all  other,  there  are  three  most  mystical 
unions  ;  two  natures  in  one  person  ;  thi-ee  persons  in 
one  nature  ;  one  soul  in  two  bodies.  For  though,  in- 
deed, they  be  really  divided,  yet  are  they  so  united,  as 
they  seem  but  one,  and  make  rather  a  duality  than  two 
distinct  souls. 

S&d.  6. — There  are  wonders  in  true  affection.  It  is  a 
body  of  enigmas,  mysteries,  and  riddles  ;  wherein  two 
so  become  one  as  they  both  become  two :  I  love  my 
friend  before  myself,  and  yet,  methinks,  I  do  not  love 
him  enough.  Some  few  months  hence,  my  multiplied 
affection  will  make  me  believe  I  have  not  loved  him  at 
all.  When  I  am  from  him,  I  am  dead  till  I  be  with 
hini.  United  souls  are  not  satisfied  with  embraces,  but 
desii'e  to  be  truly  each  other  ;  which  being  impossible, 
these  desires  are  infijiite,  and  must  proceed  without  a 
possibility  of  satisfaction.  Another  misery  there  is  in 
affection ;  that  whom  we  truly  love  like  our  own  selves, 
we  forget  their  looks,  nor  can  our  memory  retain  the 
idea  of  their  faces  :  and  it  i3  no  wonder,  for  they  are 
ourselves,  and  our  affection  makes  their  looks  our  own. 
This  noble  affection  falls  not  on  vulgar  and  common 
constitutions  ;  but  on  such  as  are  marked  for  vu-tue. 
He  that  can  love  his  friend  with  this  noble  ardour  will 
in  a  competent  degree  effect  all.  Now,  if  we  can  bring 
our  affections  to  look  beyond  the  body,  and  cast  an  eye 
upon  the  soul,  we  have  found  out  the  true  object,  not 
only  of  friendship,  but  charity  :  and  the  greatest  happi- 
ness that  we  can  bequeath  the  soul  is  that  wherein  we 
all  do  place  our  last  felicity,  salvation  ;  which,  though 
it  be  not  in  our  power  to  bestow,  it  is  in  our  charity  and 
pious  invocations  to  desire,  if  not  procure  and  further. 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  gg 

I  cannot  contentedly  frame  a  prayer  for  myself  in  par- 
ticular, without  a  catalog:ue  for  my  friends  ;  nor  request 
a  happiness  wherein  my  sociable  disposition  doth  not 
desire  the  fellowship  of  my  neighbour.  I  never  hear 
the  toll  of  a  passing  bell,  though  in  my  mirth,  with- 
out my  prayers  and  best  wishes  for  the  departing  spirit. 
I  caimot  go  to  cure  the  body  of  my  patient,  but  I  forget 
my  profession,  and  cull  luito  God  for  his  soul.  I  can- 
not see  one  say  his  prayers,  but,  instead  of  imitating 
liim,  I  fall  into  supplication  for  him,  who  perhaps  is  no 
more  to  me  than  a  common  nature  :  and  if  God  hath 
vouchsafed  an  ear  to  my  supplications,  there  are  surely 
many  happy  that  never  saw  me,  and  enjoy  the  blessing 
of  mine  unkno^vn  devotions.  To  pray  for  enemies,  that 
is,  for  their  salvation,  is  no  harsh  precept,  but  the  practice 
of  our  daUy  and  ordinary  devotions.  I  cannot  believe 
the  story  of  the  Italian ;  *"  our  bad  -ft-ishes  and  imcharit- 
able  desires  proceed  no  furtlier  than  this  life  ;  it  is  the 
devil,  and  the  imcharitable  votes  of  hell,  that  desire  our 
misery  in  the  world  to  come. 

Sect.  7. — "  To  do  no  injury  nor  take  none"  was  a  prin- 
ciple which,  to  my  former  years  and  impatient  allections, 
seemed  to  contain  enough  of  morality,  but  my  more 
settled  years,  and  Christian  constitution,  have  fallen 
upon  severer  resolutions.  I  can  hold  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  injury  ;  that  if  there  be,  there  is  no  such  injury 
as  revenge,  and  no  such  revenge  as  the  contempt  of  an 
injury  :  that  to  hate  another  is  to  malign  himself;  that 
the  truest  way  to  love  another  is  to  despise  ourselves. 
I  were  unjust  unto  mine  own  conscience  if  I  should  say 
I  am  at  variance  with  anything  like  myself.  I  find 
there  are  many  pieces  in  this  one  fabrick  of  man  ;  this 
frame  is  raised  upon  a  mass  of  antipathies  :  I  am  one 
mcthinks  but  as  the  world,  wherein  notwithstanding 


90  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

there  are  a  swarm  of  distinct  essences,  and  in  them 
another  world  of  contrarieties ;  we  carry  private  and 
domestick  enemies  witliin,  public  and  more  hostile  ad- 
versaries without.  The  devil,  that  did  but  buffet  St 
Paul,  plays  methihks  at  sharp  9^  with  me.  Let  me  be 
nothing,  if  within  the  compass  of  myself,  I  do  not  find 
the  battle  of  Lepanto,^^  passion  against  reason,  reason 
against  faith,  faith  against  the  devil,  and  my  conscience 
against  all.  There  is  another  man  within  me  that's 
angry  with  me,  rebukes,  commands,  and  dastards  me. 
I  have  no  conscience  of  marble,  to  resist  the  hammer  of 
more  heavj''  offences  :  nor  yet  so  soft  and  Avaxen,  as  to 
take  the  impression  of  each  single  peccadillo  or  scape  of 
infimiity.  I  am  of  a  strange  belief,  that  it  is  as  easy  to 
be  forgiven  some  sins  as  to  commit  some  others.  For 
my  original  sin,  I  hold  it  to  be  washed  away  in  my 
baptism ;  for  my  actual  transgressions,  I  compute  and 
reckon  with  God  but  from  my  last  repentance,  sacra- 
ment, or  general  absolution ;  and  therefore  am  not 
terrified  with  the  sins  or  madness  of  my  youth.  I  thank 
the  goodness  of  God,  I  have  no  sins  that  want  a  name. 
I  am  not  singular  in  offences  ;  my  transgressions  are 
epidemical,  and  from  the  common  breath  of  our  corrup- 
tion. For  there  are  certain  tempers  of  body  which, 
matched  with  a  humorous  depravity  of  mind,  do  hatch 
and  produce  vitiosities,  whose  newness  and  monstrosity 
of  nature  admits  no  name  ;  this  was  the  temper  of  that 
lecher  that  carnaled  with  a  statua,  and  the  constitution 
of  Nero  in  his  spintrian  recreations.  For  the  heavens 
are  not  only  fruitful  in  new  and  imheard-of  stars,  the 
earth  in  plants  and  animals,  but  men's  minds  also  in 
villany  and  vices.  Now  the  dulness  of  my  reason,  and 
the  vulgarity  of  my  disposition,  never  prompted  my  in- 
vention nor  solicited  my  affection  unto  any  of  these  ;■— 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  91 

yet  even  those  common  and  quotidian  infirmities  that 
60  necessarily  attend  me,  and  do  seem  to  be  my  very 
nature,  have  so  dejected  me,  so  broken  the  estimation 
that  I  should  have  otherwise  of  myself,  that  I  repute 
myself  the  most  abject  piece  of  mortality.  Divines  pre- 
scribe a  fit  of  sorrow  to  repentance  :  there  goes  indigna- 
tion, anger,  sorrow,  hatred,  into  mine,  passions  of  a  cou- 
trar}'  nature,  which  neither  seem  to  suit  with  this  action, 
nor  my  proper  constitution.  It  is  no  breach  of  charity 
to  ourselves  to  be  at  variance  with  our  vices,  nor  to 
abhor  that  part  of  us,  which  is  an  enemy  to  the  ground 
of  charity,  our  God  ;  wherein  we  do  but  imitate  our 
great  selves,  the  world,  whose  divided  antipatliies  and 
contrarj-  faces  do  yet  cany  a  charitable  regard  unto  the 
whole,  by  their  particular  discords  preser\ing  the  com- 
mon harmony,  and  keeping  in  fetters  those  powers, 
whose  rebellions,  once  masters,  might  be  the  ruin  of  all. 
Btd.  8. — I  thank  God,  amongst  those  millions  of  vices 
I  do  inherit  and  hold  from  Adam,  I  have  escaped  one, 
and  that  a  mortal  enemy  to  charity, — the  first  and 
father  sin,  not  only  of  man,  but  of  the  devil, — pride  ;  a 
\"ice  whose  name  is  comprehended  in  a  monosyllable, 
but  in  its  nature  not  circumscribed  with  a  world,  I  have 
escaped  it  in  a  condition  that  can  hardly  avoid  it.  Tliose 
petty  acquisitions  and  reputed  perfections,  that  advance 
and  elevate  the  conceits  of  other  men,  add  no  feathers 
unto  mine.  I  have  seen  a  grammarian  tower  and  plume 
himself  over  a  single  line  in  Horace,  and  show  more 
pride,  in  the  con.struction  of  one  ode,  than  the  author 
in  the  composure  of  the  whole  book.  For  my  o\vn  part, 
besides  the  jargon  and  patois  of  several  provinces,  I 
understand  no  less  than  six  languages  ;  yet  I  protest  I 
have  no  higher  conceit  of  myself  than  had  our  fathers 
>>efore  the  confusion  of  Babel,  when  there  was  but  one 


92  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

language  in  tlie  world,  and  none  to  boast  himseK  either 
linguist  or  critick.  I  have  not  only  seen  several  coun- 
tries, beheld  the  nature  of  tbeir  climes,  the  cborograpby 
of  their  provinces,  topography  of  their  cities,  but  under- 
stood their  several  laws,  customs,  and  policies ;  yet 
cannot  all  this  persuade  the  dulness  of  my  spirit  unto 
such  an  opinion  of  myself  as  I  behold  in  nimbler  and 
conceited  heads,  that  never  looked  a  degree  beyond 
their  nests.  I  know  the  names  and  somewhat  more  of 
all  the  constellations  in  my  horizon  ;  yet  I  have  seen 
a  prating  mariner,  that  could  only  name  the  pointers 
and  the  north-star,  out-talk  me,  and  conceit  himself  a 
whole  sphere  above  me.  I  know  most  of  the  plants  of 
my  country,  and  of  those  about  me,  yet  methinks  I  do 
not  know  so  many  as  when  I  did  but  know  a  hundred, 
and  had  scarcely  ever  simpled  further  than  Cheapside. 
For,  indeed,  heads  of  capacity,  and  such  as  are  not  full 
with  a  handful  or  easy  measure  of  knowledge,  think 
they  know  nothing  till  they  know  all ;  which  being 
impossible,  they  fall  upon  the  opinion  of  Socrates,  and 
only  know  they  know  not  anything.  I  cannot  think 
that  Homer  pined  away  upon  the  riddle  of  the  fisher- 
men, or  that  Aristotle,  who  understood  the  imcertainty 
of  knowledge,  and  confessed  so  often  the  reason  of  man 
too  weak  for  the  works  of  nature,  did  ever  drown  him- 
self upon  the  flux  and  reflux  of  Euripus.^^  We  do  but 
learn,  to-day,  what  our  better  advanced  judgments  will 
unteach  to-morrow  ;  and  Aristotle  doth  but  instruct  us, 
as  Plato  did  him,  that  is,  to  confute  himself.  I  have 
run  through  all  sorts,  yet  find  no  rest  in  any  :  though 
our  first  studies  and  junior  endeavours  may  style  us 
Peripateticks,  Stoicks,  or  Academicks,  yet  I  perceive 
the  wisest  heads  prove,  at  last,  almost  all  Scepticks," 
and  stand  like  Janus  in  the  field  of  knowledge.    I  have 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  93 

therefore  one  common  and  autheutick  pliilosopty  I 
learned  in  the  schools,  whereby  I  discoiirse  and  satisfy 
the  reason  of  other  men  ;  another  more  reserved,  and 
drawTi  from  experience,  whereby  I  content  mine  own. 
Solomon,  that  complained  of  ignorance  in  the  height  of 
knowledge,  hath  not  only  himibled  my  conceits,  but 
discouraged  my  endeavours.  There  is  yet  another  con- 
ceit that  hath  sometimes  made  me  shut  my  books,  which 
tells  me  it  is  a  vanity  to  waste  our  days  in  the  blind 
pursuit  of  knowledge  :  it  is  but  attending  a  little  longer, 
and  we  shall  enjoy  that,  by  instinct  and  infusion,  which 
we  endeavour  at  here  by  labour  and  inquisition.  It  is 
better  to  sit  doN\Ti  in  a  modest  ignorance,  and  rest  con- 
tented with  the  natural  blessing  of  our  own  reasons, 
than  by  the  imcertain  knowledge  of  tliis  life  with  sweat 
and  vexation,  which  death  gives  every  fool  gratis,  and  is 
an  accessar}'  of  our  glorification. 

Sect.  9. — I  was  never  yet  once,  and  commend  their 
resolutions  who  never  marry  twice.  Not  that  I  dis- 
allow of  second  marriage  ;  as  neither  in  all  cases  of  poly- 
gamy, which  considering  some  times,  and  the  unequal 
number  of  both  sexes,  may  be  also  necessary.  The 
whole  world  was  made  for  man,  but  the  twelfth  part  of 
man  for  woman.  Man  is  the  whole  world,  and  the 
breath  of  God  ;  woman  the  rib  and  crooked  piece  of 
man.  I  could  be  content  that  we  might  procreate  like 
trees,  without  conjunction,  or  that  there  were  any  way 
to  perpetuate  the  world  without  this  trivial  and  vulgar 
way  of  coition  :  it  is  the  foolishest  act  a  wise  man  com- 
mits in  all  his  life,  nor  is  there  anything  that  will  more 
deject  his  rooled  imagination,  when  he  shall  consider 
what  an  odd  and  unworthy  piece  of  folly  ho  hath  com- 
mitted. I  speak  not  in  prejudice,  nor  am  averse  from 
tliat  Bweet  sex,  but  naturally  amorous  of  all  that  si 


94  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

beautiful.  I  can  look  a  whole  day  with  delight  upon  a 
handsome  picture,  though  it  be  but  of  an  horse.  It  is 
my  temper,  and  I  like  it  the  better,  to  affect  all  harmony ; 
and  sure  there  is  musick,  even  in  the  beauty  and  the 
silent  note  which  Cupid  strikes,  far  sweeter  than  the 
sound  of  an  instrument.  For  there  is  a  musick  wher- 
ever there  is  a  harmony,  order,  or  proportion  ;  and  thus 
far  we  may  maintain  "  the  musick  of  the  spheres  : "  for 
those  well-ordered  motions,  and  regular  paces,  though 
they  give  no  sound  unto  the  ear,  yet  to  the  understand- 
ing they  strike  a  note  most  full  of  harmony.  Whatso- 
ever is  harmonically  composed  delights  in  harmony, 
which  makes  me  much  distrust  the  symmetry  of  those 
heads  which  declaim  against  all  church-musick.  For 
myself,  not  only  from  my  obedience  but  my  particular 
genius  I  do  embrace  it :  for  even  that  vulgar  and  tavern- 
musick  which  makes  one  man  merry,  another  mad, 
strikes  in  me  a  deep  fit  of  devotion,  and  a  profound 
contemplation  of  the  first  composer.  There  is  some- 
thing in  it  of  divinity  more  than  the  ear  discovers  :  it  is 
an  hieroglyphical  and  shadowed  lesson  of  the  whole 
world,  and  creatures  of  God, — such  a  melody  to  the  ear, 
as  the  whole  world,  well  understood,  would  afford  the 
understanding.  In  brief,  it  is  a  sensible  fit  of  that 
harmony  which  intellectually  sounds  in  the  ears  of  God. 
I  win  not  say,  with  Plato,  the  soul  is  an  harmony,  but 
harmonical,  and  hath  its  nearest  sympathy  unto  musick : 
thus  some,  whose  temper  of  body  agrees,  and  humours 
the  constitution  of  their  souls,  are  born  poets,  though 
indeed  all  are  naturally  inclined  unto  rhythm.  This 
made  Tacitus,  in  the  very  first  line  of  his  story,  fall  upon 
a  verse  ;  *  and  Cicero,  the  worst  of  poets,  but  declaim- 
ing for  a  poet,  falls  in  the  very  first  sentence  upon  a 
*  "  Urbem  Eomam  in  principio  reges  habuere." 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  95 

perfect  hexameter.*     I  feel  not  in  me  those  sordid  and 
unchristian  desires  of  my  profession  ;  I  do  not  secretly 
implore  and  wish  for  plagues,  rejoice  at  famines,  revolve 
ephemerides  and  almanacks  in  expectation  of  mali<'nant 
aspects,  fatal  conjunctions,  and  eclipses.     I  rejoice  not 
at  unwholesome  springs  nor  unseasonable  winters  :  my 
prayer  goes  with  the  husbamlman's  ;  I  desire  everything 
in  its  proper  season,  that  neither  men  nor  the  times  he 
out  of  temper.    Let  me  be  sick  myself,  if  sometimes  the 
malady  of  my  patient  be  not  a  disease  imto  me.      I 
desire  rather  to  cure  his  infirmities  than  my  own  neces- 
sities.    "Where  I  do  him  no  good,  methinks  it  is  scarce 
honest  gain,  though  I  confess  'tis  but  the  worthy  salarj^ 
of  our  well  intended    endeavours.      I   am  not  only 
ashamed  but  heartily  sorry,  that,  besides  death,  there 
are  diseases  incurable  ;  yet  not  for  my  own  sake  or  that 
they  be  beyond  my  art,  but  for  the  general  cause  and 
sake  of  humanity,  whose  common  cause  I  apprehend  as 
mine  own.     And,  to  speak  more  generally,  those  three 
noble   professions  which   all  ci\'il  commonwealtlis  do 
honour,  are  raised  upon  the  fall  of  Adam,  and  are  not 
any  way  exempt  from  their  infirmities.     There  are  not 
only  diseases  incurable  in  physick,  but  cases  indissolv- 
able  in  law,  vices  incorrigible  in  divinity.     If  general 
councils  may  err,  I  do  not  see  why  particular  courts 
should  Imj  infallible  :  their  perfectest  rules  are  raised 
upon  the  erroneous  reasons  of  man,  and  the  laws  of  one 
do  1)ut  condemn  the  rules  of  another  ;  as  Aristotle  oft- 
times  the  opinions  of  his  predecessors,  because,  though 
agreeable  to  reason,  yet  were  not  consonant  to  his  own 
rules  and  the  logick  of  his  proper  principles.     Again, — 
to  speak  nothing  of  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost, 

•  "In  qua  me  uon  inficior  mediocritcr  esse." — Pro  Arcfiia 
Poeta. 


96  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

whose  cure  not  only,  but  whose  nature  is  unknown, — I 
can  cure  the  gout  or  stone  in  some,  sooner  than  divinity, 
pride,  or  avarice  in  others.  I  can  cure  vices  by  physick 
when  they  remain  incurable  by  divinity,  and  they  shall 
obey  my  pills  when  they  contemn  their  precepts.  I 
boast  nothing,  but  plainly  say,  we  all  labour  against  our 
own  cure  ;  for  death  is  the  cure  of  all  diseases.  There 
is  no  catholicon  or  tmiversal  remedy  I  know,  but  this, 
which  though  nauseous  to  queasy  stomachs,  yet  to  pre- 
pared appetites  is  nectar,  and  a  pleasant  potion  of  im- 
mortality. 

Sect.  10. — For  my  conversation,  it  is,  like  the  sun's, 
with  all  men,  and  with  a  friendly  aspect  to  good  and 
bad.     Methinks  there  is  no  man  bad ;  and  the  worst 
best,  that  is,  while  they  are  kept  within  the  circle  of 
those  qualities  wherein  they  are  good.     There  is  no 
man's  mind  of  so  discordant  and  jarring  a  temper,  to 
which  a  tuneable  disposition  may  not  strike  a  harmony. 
Magnce  virtutes,  nee  minora  vitia;  it  is  the  posy*^  of 
the  best  natures,  and  may  be  inverted  on  the  worst. 
There  are,  in  the  most  depraved  and  venomous  disposi- 
tions, certain  pieces  that  remain  untouched,  which  by 
an  antiperistasis  ^  become  more  excellent,  or  by  the 
excellency  of  their  antipathies  are  able  to  preserve  them- 
selves from  the  contagion  of  their  enemy  vices,  and 
persist  entire  beyond  the  general  corruption.     For  it  is 
also  thus  in  nature  :  the  greatest  balsams  do  lie  en- 
veloped in  the  bodies  of  the  most  powerful  corrosives. 
I  say  moreover,  and  I  ground  upon  experience,  that 
poisons  contain  witliin  themselves  their  own  antidote, 
and  that  which  preserves  them  from  the  venom  of  them- 
selves ;  without  which  they  were  not  deleterious  to 
others  only,  but  to  themselves  also.     But  it  is  the  cor- 
ruption that  I  fear  within  me ;  not  the  contagion  of 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  gj 

commerce    -without  me.      "Tis  that  unruly  regiment 
within  me,  that  will  destroy  me  ;  'tis  I  that  do  infect 
myself ;   the  man  -without  a  navel "  yet  lives  in  me. 
I  feel  that  original  canker  corrode  and  devoxir  me  :  and 
therefore,  ^'Defcnda  me,  Dios,  de  me  !"  "Lord,  deliver  me 
from  myself  !"  is  a  part  of  my  litany,  and  the  first  voice 
of  my  retired  imaginations.     There  is  no  man  alone, 
because  every  man  is  a  microcosm,  and  carries  the  -whole 
■world  about  him.     "  Nunquam  minus  solus  quam  cum 
solus,"*  though  it  be  the  apothegm  of  a  -nise  man  is  yet 
true  in  the  mouth  of  a  fool :  for  indeed,  though  in  a 
•wilderness,  a  man  is  never  alone  ;  not  only  because  he 
is  -with  himself,  and  his  o-mi  thoughts,  but  because  he 
is  -with  the  devil,  who  ever  consorts  vnth.  our  solitude, 
and  is  that  unruly  rebel  that  musters  up  those  disordered 
motions  which  accompany  our  sequestered  imaginations. 
And  to  speak  more  narrowly,  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
solitude,  nor  anything  that  can  be  said  to  be  alone,  and 
by  itself,  but  God  ; — who  is  his  o-wn  circle,  and  can  sub- 
gist  by  himself ;  all  others,  besides  their  dissimilary  and 
heterogeneous  parts,  -which  in  a  manner  multiply  their 
natures,  cannot  subsist  -svithout  the  concourse  of  God, 
and  the  society  of  that  hand  wliich  doth  uphold  their 
natures.     In  brief,  there  can  be  nothing  truly  alone, 
and  by  its  self,  which  is  not  truly  one,  and  such  is  only 
God  :  all  others  do  transcend  an  unity,  and  so  by  con- 
sequence are  many. 

Sect.  11. — Now  for  my  life,  it  is  a  miracle  of  thirty 
years,  which  to  relate,  were  not  a  history,  but  a  piece  of 
poetry,  and  would  sound  to  common  ears  like  a  fable. 
For  the  world,  I  count  it  not  an  inn,  but  an  hospital  ; 
and  a  place  not  to  live,  but  to  die  in.  The  world  that  I 
regard  is  myself ;  it  is  the  microcosm  of  my  own  frame 

•  "Cic.  deOff.."l.  iii. 

G 


98  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

that  I  cast  mine  eye  on  :  for  the  other,  I  use  it  but  like 
my  globe,  and  turn  it  round  sometimes  for  my  recrea- 
tion. Men  that  look  upon  my  outside,  perusing  only 
my  condition  and  fortunes,  do  err  in  my  altitude  ;  for  I 
am  above  Atlas's  shoulders.^^  The  earth  is  a  point  not 
only  in  respect  of  the  heavens  above  us,  but  of  tha 
heavenly  and  celestial  part  within  us.  That  mass  of 
flesh  that  circumscribes  me  limits  not  my  mind.  That 
surface  that  tells  the  heavens  it  hath  an  end  cannot 
persuade  me  I  have  any.  I  take  my  circle  to  be  above 
tliree  hundred  and  sixty.  Though  the  number  of  the 
ark  do  measure  my  body,  it  comprehendeth  not  my 
mind.  Wliilst  I  study  to  find  how  I  am  a  microcosm, 
or  little  world,  I  find  myself  something  more  than  the 
great.  There  is  surely  a  piece  of  divinity  in  us  ;  some- 
thing that  was  before  the  elements,  and  owes  no  homage 
unto  the  sun.  Nature  tells  me,  I  am  the  image  of  God, 
as  well  as  Scripture.  He  that  understands  not  thus 
much  hath  not  his  introduction  or  first  lesson,  and  is 
yet  to  begin  the  alphabet  of  man.  Let  me  not  injure  the 
felicity  of  others,  if  I  say  I  am  as  happy  as  any.  "  'Ruat 
coslum,  fiat  voluntas  tua,"  salveth  all;  so  that,  what- 
soever happens,  it  is  but  what  our  daily  prayers  desire. 
In  brief,  I  am  content ;  and  what  should  providence 
add  more  ?  Surely  this  is  it  we  call  happiness,  and  this 
do  I  enjoy ;  with  this  I  am  happy  in  a  dream,  and  as 
content  to  enjoy  a  happiness  in  a  fancy,  as  others  in  a 
more  apparent  truth  and  reality.  There  is  surely  a 
nearer  apprehension  of  anything  that  delights  us,  in  our 
dreams,  than  in  our  waked  senses.  Without  this  I  were 
unhappy  ;  for  my  awaked  judgment  discontents  me, 
ever  whispering  unto  me  that  I  am  from  my  friend,  but 
my  friendly  dreams  in  the  night  requite  me,  and  make 
me  think  I  am  within  his  arms.     I  thank  God  for  my 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  99 

happy  dreams,  as  I  do  for  my  good  rest ;  for  there  is  a 
satisfaction  in  them  unto  reasonable  desires,  and  such 
aa  can  be  content  with  a  fit  of  happiness.  And  surely 
it  is  not  a  melancholy  conceit  to  think  we  are  all  asleep 
in  this  world,  and  that  the  conceits  of  this  life  are  as 
mere  dreams,  to  those  of  the  next,  as  the  phantasms  of 
the  night,  to  the  conceits  of  the  day.  There  is  an  equal 
delusion  in  both  ;  and  the  one  doth  but  seem  to  be  the 
emblem  or  picture  of  the  other.  "We  are  somewhat 
more  than  ourselves  in  our  sleeps  ;  and  the  slumber  of 
the  body  seems  to  be  but  the  waking  of  the  soul.  It  is 
the  ligation  of  sense,  but  the  liberty  of  reason  ;  and  our 
waking  conceptions  do  not  match  the  fancies  of  our 
sleeps.  At  my  nativity,  my  ascendant  was  the  watery 
sign  of  Scorpio.  I  was  born  in  the  planetary  hour  of 
Saturn,  and  I  think  I  have  a  piece  of  that  leaden  planet 
in  me.  I  am  no  way  facetious,  nor  disposed  for  the 
mirth  and  galliardise'-^  of  company  ;  yet  in  one  dream 
I  can  compose  a  whole  comedy,  behold  the  action,  ap- 
prehend the  jests,  and  laugh  myself  awake  at  the  con- 
ceits thereof.  Were  my  memory  as  faithful  as  my 
reason  is  then  fruitful,  I  would  never  study  but  in  my 
dreams,  and  this  time  also  would  I  choose  for  my  devo- 
tions :  but  our  grosser  memories  have  then  so  little  hold 
of  our  abstracted  understandings,  that  they  forget  the 
story,  and  can  only  relate  to  our  awaked  souls  a  con- 
fused and  broken  tale  of  that  which  hath  passed.  Aris- 
totle, who  liath  written  a  singular  tract  of  sleep,  hath 
not,  methinks,  thoroughly  defined  it ;  nor  yet  Galen, 
though  he  seem  to  have  corrected  it ;  for  tliose  noctam- 
bulos  and  night-walkers,  though  in  their  sleep,  do  yet 
enjoy  the  action  of  their  senses.  We  must  therefore  say 
that  there  is  something  in  us  that  is  not  in  the  juris- 
diction of  Moqjhcus ;  and  that  those  abstracted  and 


lOO  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

ecstatick  souls  do  walk  about  in  their  own  corpses,  as 
spirits  with  the  bodies  they  assume,  whereia  they  seem 
to  hear,  see,  and  feel,  though  indeed  the  organs  axe 
destitute  of  sense,  and  their  natures  of  those  faculties 
that  should  inform  them.  Thus  it  is  observed,  that  men 
sometimes,  upon  the  hour  of  their  departure,  do  speak 
and  reason  above  themselves.  For  then  the  soul  begin- 
ning to  be  freed  from  the  ligaments  of  the  body,  begins 
to  reason  like  herself,  and  to  discourse  in  a  strain  above 
mortality. 

>Seci.  12. — We  term  sleep  a  death  ;  and  yet  it  is  wak- 
ing that  kills  us,  and  destroys  those  spirits  that  are  the 
house  of  life.  Tis  indeed  a  part  of  life  that  best  ex- 
presseth  death  ;  for  every  man  truly  lives,  so  long  as  he 
acts  his  natm-e,  or  some  way  makes  good  the  faculties 
of  himself.  Themistocles  therefore,  that  slew  his  soldier 
in  his  sleep,  was  a  merciful  executioner  :  'tis  a  kind  of 
punishment  the  mildness  of  no  laws  hath  invented  ;  I 
wonder  the  fancy  of  Lucan  and  Seneca  did  not  discover 
it.  It  is  that  death  by  Avhich  we  may  be  literally  said 
to  die  daily  ;  a  death  which  Adam  died  before  his  mor- 
tality ;  a  death  whereby  we  live  a  middle  and  moderat- 
ing point  between  life  and  death.  In  fine,  so  like  death, 
I  dare  not  trust  it  without  my  prayers,  and  an  half 
adieu  unto  the  world,  and  take  my  farewell  in  a  col- 
loquy with  God  : — 

The  night  is  come,  like  to  the  day ; 
Depart  not  thou,  great  God,  away. 
Let  noi;  my  sins,  black  as  the  night, 
Eclipse  the  lustre  of  thy  light. 
Keep  still  in  my  horizon  ;  for  to  me 
The  sun  makes  not  the  day,  but  thee. 
Tliou  whose  nature  cannot  sleep, 
On  my  temples  sentry  keep ; 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  loi 

Guard  me  'gainst  those  watchful  foes. 
Whose  eyes  are  open  while  mine  close. 
Let  no  dreams  my  head  infest. 
But  such  as  Jacob's  temples  blest. 
"While  I  do  rest,  my  soul  advance : 
Make  my  sleep  a  holy  trance  : 
That  I  may,  my  rest  being  wrought, 
Awake  into  some  holy  thought, 
And  with  as  active  vigour  run 
My  course  as  doth  tlie  nimble  sun. 
Sleep  is  a  death  ; — Oh  make  me  try, 
By  sleeping,  what  it  is  to  die ! 
And  as  gently  lay  my  head 
On  my  grave,  as  now  my  bed. 
Howe'er  I  rest,  great  God,  let  me 
Awake  again  at  last  with  thee. 
And  thus  assured,  behold  I  lie 
Securely,  or  to  wake  or  die. 
These  are  my  drowsy  days  ;  in  vain 
I  do  now  wake  to  sleep  again  : 
Oh  come  that  hour,  when  I  shall  never 
Sleep  again,  but  wake  for  ever ! 

TLifl  is  the  dormitive  I  take  to  bedward ;  I  need  no  other 
laudanum  than  this  to  make  me  sleep ;  after  which  I 
close  mine  eyes  in  security,  content  to  take  my  leave  of 
the  sun,  and  sleep  unto  the  resurrection. 

SecC.  13. — The  method  I  should  use  in  distributive 
justice,  I  often  observe  in  commutative  ;  and  keep  a 
geometrical  proportion  in  both,  whereby  becominj]; 
equable  to  others,  I  become  unjust  to  myself,  and 
supererogate  in  that  common  principle,  "  Do  unto 
others  aa  tliou  wouldst  be  done  unto  thyself."  I  was 
not  bom  unto  riches,  neither  is  it,  I  tliink,  my  star  to 
)>c  woaltliy  ;  or  if  it  were,  the  freedom  of  my  mind,  and 
frankness  of  my  disposition,  were  able  to  contradict  and 
CTOAs  ray  fates  :  for  to  me  avarice  seems  not  so  much  a 


102  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

vice,  as  a  deplorable  piece  of  madness  ;  to  conceive  our- 
selves urinals,  or  be  persuaded  that  we  are  dead,  is  not 
so  ridiculous,  nor  so  many  degrees  beyond  the  power  of 
hellebore,^"*^  as  this.     The  opinions  of  theory,  and  posi- 
tions of  men,  are  not  so  void  of  reason,  as  their  practised 
conclusions.     Some  have  held  that  snow  is  black,  that 
the  earth  moves,  that  the  soul  is  air,  fire,  water ;  but 
all  this  is  philosophy  :  and  there  is  no  delirium,  if  we 
do  but  speculate  the  folly  and  indisputable  dotage  of 
avarice.     To  that  subterraneous  idol,  and  god  of  the 
earth,  I  do  confess  I  am  an  atheist.     I  cannot  persuade 
myself  to  honour  that  the  world  adores  ;  whatsoever 
virtue  its  prepared  substance  may  have  within  my 
body,  it  hath  no  influence  nor  operation  without.    I 
would  not  entertain  a  base  design,  or  an  action  that 
should  call  me  villain,  for  the  Indies ;  and  for  this  only 
do  I  love  and  honour  my  own  soul,  and  have  methiaks 
two  arms  too  few  to  embrace  myself.     Aristotle  is  too 
severe,  that  will  not  allow  us  to  be  truly  liberal  with- 
out wealth,  and  the  bountiful  hand  of  fortune  ;  if  this 
be  true,  I  must  confess  I  am  charitable  only  in  my 
liberal  intentions,  and  bountiful  well  wishes.     But  if 
the  example  of  the  mite  be  not  only  an  act  of  wonder, 
but  an  example  of  the  noblest  charity,  surely  poor  men 
may  also  build  hospitals,  and  the  rich  alone  have  not 
erected  cathedrals.     I  have  a  private  method  which 
others  observe  not  ;  I  take  the  opportunity  of  myself 
to  do  good  ;  I  borrow  occasion  of  charity  from  my  own 
necessities,  and  supply  the  wants  of  others,  when  I  am 
in  most  need  myseK :  for  it  is  an  honest  stratagem  to 
take  advantage  of  ourselves,  and  so  to  husband  the  acts 
of  virtue,  that,  where  they  are  defective  in  one  circum- 
stance, they  may  repay  their  want,  and  multiply  their 
goodness  in  another.     I  have  not  Peru  in  my  desires, 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  103 

but  a  competence  and  ability  to  perform  those  {^ood 
works  to  -which  he  hath  inclined  my  nature.  He  is 
rich  who  hath  enough  to  be  charitable  ;  and  it  is  hard 
to  be  so  poor  that  a  noble  mind  may  not  find  a  way  to 
this  piece  of  goodness.  "  He  that  giveth  to  the  poor 
lendeth  to  the  Lord  : "  there  is  more  rhetorick  in  that 
one  sentence  than  in  a  library  of  sermons.  And  indeed, 
if  those  sentences  were  understood  by  the  reader  with 
the  same  emphasis  as  they  are  delivered  by  tlie  author, 
•we  needed  not  those  volumes  of  instructions,  but  might 
be  honest  by  an  epitome.  Upon  this  motive  only  I 
cannot  behold  a  beggar  without  relieving  his  necessities 
with  my  purse,  or  his  soul  with  my  prayere.  These 
scenical  and  accidental  differences  between  us  cannot 
make  me  forget  that  common  and  imtoucht  part  of  us 
both  :  there  is  under  these  centoes  '"^  and  miserable 
outsides,  those  mutilate  and  semi  bodies,  a  soul  of  the 
same  alloy  with  our  o\\ti,  whose  genealogy  is  God's  as 
well  as  ours,  and  in  as  fair  a  way  to  salvation  as  oiu- 
selves.  Statists  that  labour  to  contrive  a  commonwealth 
without  our  poverty  take  away  the  object  of  charity  ; 
not  understanding  only  the  commonwealth  of  a  Cliris- 
tian,  but  forgetting  the  prophecy  of  Christ* 

Sect.  14. — Now,  there  is  another  part  of  charity,  which 
is  the  basis  and  pillar  of  this,  and  that  is  the  love  of 
God,  for  whom  Ave  love  our  neighbour  ;  for  this  I  think 
charity,  to  love  God  for  himself,  and  our  neighbour  for 
God.  All  that  is  truly  amiable  is  God,  or  as  it  were  a 
divided  piece  of  hirn,  that  retains  a  reflex  or  shadow  of 
himself.  Nor  is  it  strange  that  we  should  place  affec- 
tion on  that  which  is  invisible  :  all  that  we  truly  love 
is  thus.  What  we  adore  under  aflV-ction  of  our  senses 
deserves  not  the  honour  of  so  pure  a  title.     Thus  we 

*  "  The  poor  ye  have  always  with  you." 


£04  RELIGIO  MEDICL 

adore  virtue,  though,  to  the  eyes  of  sense  she  be  in- 
visible. Thus  that  part  of  our  noble  friends  that  we 
love  is  not  that  part  that  we  embrace,  but  that  insen- 
sible part  that  our  arms  cannot  embrace.  God  being 
all  goodness,  can  love  nothing  but  himself ;  he  loves  us 
but  for  that  part  which  is  as  it  were  himself,  and  the 
traduction  of  his  Holy  Spirit.  Let  us  call  to  assize  the 
loves  of  our  parents,  the  affection  of  our  wives  and 
children,  and  they  are  all  dumb  shows  and  dreams, 
without  reality,  truth,  or  constancy.  For  first  there  is 
a  strong  bond  of  affection  between  us  and  our  parents  ; 
yet  how  easily  dissolved !  We  betake  ourselves  to  a 
woman,  forgetting  our  mother  in  a  wife,  and  the  womb 
that  bare  us  in  that  which  shall  bear  our  image.  This 
woman  blessing  us  with  children,  our  affection  leaves 
the  level  it  held  before,  and  sinks  from  our  bed  unto 
our  issue  and  picture  of  posterity  :  where  affection  holds 
no  steady  mansion  ;  they  growing  up  in  years,  desire 
our  ends  ;  or,  applying  themselves  to  a  woman,  take  a 
lawful  way  to  love  another  better  than  ourselves.  Thus 
I  perceive  a  man  may  be  buried  alive,  and  behold  his 
srrave  in  his  own  issue. 

Se,ct.  15. — I  conclude  therefore,  and  say,  there  is  no 
happiness  under  (or,  as  Copernicus  *  will  have  it,  above) 
the  sun  ;  nor  any  crambe  i''^  in  that  repeated  verity  and 
burthen  of  all  the  wisdom  of  Solomon  :  "  All  is  vanity 
and  vexation  of  spirit ; "  there  is  no  felicity  in  that  the 
world  adores.  Aristotle,  whilst  he  labours  to  refute 
the  ide,as  of  Plato,  falls  upon  one  himself :  for  his 
summum  bonum  is  a  chimsera ;  and  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  his  felicity.  That  wherein  God  himself  is 
happy,  the  holy  angels  are  happy,  in  whose  defect  the 
devils  are  unhappy  ; — that  dare  I  call  happiness  :  what- 
*  'Who  holds  that  the  sun  is  the  centre  of  the  worW. 


RELIGIO  MEDICI.  105 

soever  conduceth  unto  this,  may,  with  an  easy  metaphor, 
deserve  that  name  ;  "whatsoever  else  the  world  terms 
happiness  is,  to  me,  a  story  out  of  Pliny,  a  tale  of  Bocace 
or  MaLLzspiui,  an  apparition  or  neat  delusion,  wherein 
there  is  no  more  of  happiness  than  the  name.  Bless 
me  in  this  life  with  hut  the  peace  of  my  conscience, 
command  of  my  affections,  the  love  of  thyself  and  my 
dearest  friends,  and  I  shall  be  happy  enough  to  pity 
Cajsar  !  These  are,  0  Lord,  the  humble  desires  of  my 
most  reasonable  ambition,  and  all.  I  dare  call  happiness 
on  earth  ;  wherein  I  set  no  rule  or  limit  to  thy  hand  or 
providence  ;  dispose  of  me  according  to  the  wisdom  of 
thy  pleasure.  Thy  will  be  done,  though  in  my  own 
undoing. 


H  Y  D  HI  0  T  A  P  H  I  A, 

DRM  BORIAL;   or,  a  discourse  op  the  sepulchral  CBN3 
LATELY  FOUND  IN  NORFOLK. 


i^3^?S>, 


TO  MY  WOKTHY  AND  HONOURED  FRIEND, 

THOMAS   LE   GROS, 

OF  CROSTWICK,  ESQUIRE. 


IIF-]X  tlie  general  pyre  was  out,  and  the  last 
\  ak-diction  over,  men  took  a  lasting  adieu  of 
tlieir  interred  friends,  little  expecting  the 
curiosity  of  future  ages  should  comment  upon  their 
ashes  ;  and,  having  no  old  experience  of  the  duration 
of  their  relicks,  held  no  opinion  of  such  after-considera- 
lions. 

But  who  knows  the  fate  of  his  bones,  or  how  often  he 
iri  to  be  buried  1  Who  hath  the  oracle  of  his  ashes,  or 
wliither  they  are  to  be  scattered  ?  The  relicks  of  many 
lie  like  the  ruins  of  Pompey's,*  in  all  parts  of  the  earth ; 
and  when  they  arrive  at  your  hands  these  may  seem  to 
liave  wandered  far,  who,  in  a  direct  and  meridian  travel,t 

♦  "  Pompeios  juvencH  Asia  atque  Europa,  sed  ipsura  tcrrS 
tegit  LibyoH." 

t  Little  directly  but  nea,  between  your  house  and  Groen- 
l.-ind. 


no  TO  THOMAS  LE  GROS. 

have  but  few  miles  of  known  earth,  between  yourself 
and  the  pole. 

That  the  bones  of  Theseus  should  be  seen  again  in 
Athens*  was  not  beyond  conjecture  and  hopefiU.  expecta- 
tion :  but  that  these  should  arise  so  opportunely  to  serve 
yourself  was  an  hit  of  fate,  and  honour  beyond  prediction, 

"We  cannot  but  wish  these  urns  might  have  the  effect 
of  theatrical  vessels  and  great  Hippodrome  urnsf  in 
Rome,  to  resound  the  acclamations  and  honour  due  unto 
you.  But  these  are  sad  and  sepulchral  pitchers,  which 
have  no  joyful  voices  ;  silently  expressing  old  mortality, 
the  ruins  of  forgotten  times,  and  can  only  speak  with 
life,  how  long  in  this  corruptible  frame  some  parts  may 
be  uncorrupted  ;  yet  able  to  outlast  bones  long  unborn, 
and  noblest  pile  among  us. 

We  present  not  these  as  any  strange  sight  or  spectacle 
unknown  to  your  eyes,  who  have  beheld  the  best  of 
urns  and  noblest  variety  of  ashes  ;  who  are  yourself  no 
slender  master  of  antiquities,  and  can  daily  command 
the  view  of  so  many  imperial  faces  ;  which  raiseth  your 
thoughts  imto  old  things  and  consideration  of  times 
before  you,  when  even  living  men  were  antiquities  ; 
when  the  living  might  exceed  the  dead,  and  to  depart 
this  world  could  not  be  properly  said  to  go  unto  the 
greater  number.  J  And  so  run  up  your  thoughts  upon 
the  ancient  of  days,  the  antiquary's  truest  object,  unto 
whom  the  eldest  parcels  are  young,  and  earth  itself  an 
infant,  and  without  Egyptian  §  account  makes  but  small 
noise  in  thousands. 

*  Brought  back  by  Cimon  Plutarcb. 

t  The  great  urns  at  the  Hippodrome  at  Rome,  conceived  to 
resound  the  voices  of  people  at  their  shows. 
X  "  Abiit  ad  plures." 
§  Which  makes  the  world  so  many  years  old. 


TO  THOMAS  LE  GROS.  in 

We  were  hinted  by  the  occasion,  not  catched  the 
opportunity  to  write  of  old  things,  or  intrude  upon  the 
antiquary.  "We  are  coldly  dra^\^l  unto  discourses  of 
antiquities,  who  have  scarce  tiiue  before  us  to  compre- 
hend new  things,  or  make  out  learned  novelties.  But 
seeing  they  arose,  as  they  lay  almost  in  silence  among 
us,  at  least  in  short  account  sudderdy  passed  over,  we 
were  very  unwilling  they  shovdd  die  again,  and  be 
buried  twice  among  us. 

Beside,  to  preserve  the  living,  and  make  the  dead  to 
live,  to  keep  men  out  of  their  urns,  and  discourse  of 
human  fragments  in  them,  is  not  impertinent  unto  our 
profession  ;  whose  study  is  life  and  death,  who  daily 
behold  examples  of  mortality,  and  of  all  men  least  need 
artificial  mementos,  or  collins  by  our  bedside,  to  mind  us 
of  our  graves. 

Tis  time  to  observe  occurrences,  and  let  nothing 
remarkable  escape  us  :  the  supiuity  of  elder  days  hath 
left  so  much  in  silence,  or  time  hath  so  martyred  the 
records,  that  the  most  industrious  heads  do  find  no  easy 
work  to  erect  a  new  Britannia. 

'Tis  opportune  to  look  back  upon  old  times,  and  con- 
template our  forefathers.  Great  examples  grow  thin, 
and  to  be  fetched  from  the  passed  world.  Simplicity 
flies  away,  and  iniquity  comes  at  long  strides  upon  us. 
"We  have  enough  to  do  to  make  up  ourselves  from 
present  and  passed  times,  and  the  whole  stage  of  things 
scarce  8er\-eth  for  our  instruction.  A  complete  piece  of 
virtue  must  be  made  from  the  Centos  of  all  ages,  as  all 
the  beauties  of  Greece  could  make  but  one  handsome 
Venus. 

When  the  bones  of  King  Arthur  were  digged  up,*  the 
old  race  might  think  they  beheld  therein  some  original^ 
*  In  the  time  of  Uenry  the  SecomL 


112  TO  THOMAS  LE  GROS. 

of  themselves  ;  unto  these  of  our  urns  none  here  can 
pretend  relation,  and  can  only  behold  the  relicts  of 
those  persons  who,  in  their  life  giving  the  laws  unto 
their  predecessors,  after  long  obscurity,  now  lie  at  their 
mercies.  But,  remembering  the  early  civility  they 
brought  upon  these  countries,  and  forgetting  long-passed 
mischiefs,  we  mercifully  preserve  their  bones,  and  piss 
not  upon  their  ashes. 

In  the  offer  of  these  antiquities  we  drive  not  at 
ancient  families,  so  long  outlasted  by  them.  We  are 
far  from  erecting  your  worth  upon  the  pillars  of  your 
forefathers,  whose  merits  you  illustrate.  We  honour 
your  old  virtues,  conformable  imto  times  before  you, 
which  are  the  noblest  armoury.  And,  having  long 
experience  of  your  friendly  conversation,  void  of  empty 
formality,  full  of  freedom,  constant  and  generous 
honesty,  I  look  upon  you  as  a  gem  of  the  old  rock,* 
and  must  profess  myself  even  to  urn  and  ashes. — Your 
ever  faithful  Friend  and  Servant, 

Thomas  Browne. 

Norwich,  May  \&l. 

*  "  Adamas  de  rupe  veteri  prsestantissimus." 


HYDRTOTAPHIA. 


CHAPTER  r. 


N  the  deep  discovery  of  the  subterranean  world 
a  shallow  part  would  satisfy  some  inquirers ; 
who,  if  two  or  three  yards  were  open  about 
the  surface,  would  not  care  to  rake  the  bowels  of  Potosi,* 
and  r^ions  towards  the  centre.  Nature  hath  furnished 
one  part  of  the  earth,  and  man  another.  The  treasures 
of  time  lie  high,  in  urns,  coins,  and  monuments,  scarce 
below  the  roots  of  some  vegetables.  Time  hath  endless 
rarities,  and  shows  of  all  varieties ;  which  reveals  old 
things  in  heaven,  makes  new  discoveries  in  earth,  and 
even  earth  itself  a  discovery.  That  great  anti(|uity 
America  lay  buried  for  thousands  of  years,  and  a  large 
part  of  the  earth  is  still  in  the  urn  unto  us. 

Though  if  Adam  were  made  out  of  an  extract  of  the 
earth,  all  parta  might  challenge  a  restitution,  yet  few 
have  returned  their  bones  far  lower  than  they  might 
receive  them  ;  not  affecting  the  graves  of  giants,  under 

*  The  rich  mountain  of  Pcni. 


1 14  HYDRIO  TAPHIA. 

hilly  and  lieavy  coverings,  but  content  with,  less  than 
their  own  depth,  have  wished  their  hones  might  lie 
soft,  and  the  earth  be  light  upon  them.  Even  such  as 
hope  to  rise  again,  would  not  be  content  with  central 
interment,  or  so  desperately  to  place  their  relicts  as  to 
lie  beyond  discovery  ;  and  in  no  way  to  be  seen  again  ; 
which  happy  contrivance  hath  made  communication 
with  our  forefathers,  and  left  unto  our  view  some  parts, 
which  they  never  beheld  themselves. 

Though  earth  hath  engrossed  the  name,  yet  water 
hath  proved  the  smartest  grave  ;  which  in  forty  days 
swallowed  almost  mankind,  and  the  living  creation ; 
fishes  not  whoUy  escaping,  except  the  salt  ocean  were 
handsomely  contempered  by  a  mixture  of  the  fresh 
element. 

Many  have  taken  voluminous  pains  to  determine  the 
state  of  the  soul  upon  disunion  ;  but  men  have  been 
most  phantastical  in  the  singular  contrivances  of  their 
corporal  dissolution  :  whilst  the  soberest  nations  have 
rested  in  two  ways,  of  simple  inhumation  and  burning. 
That  carnal  interment  or  burying  was  of  the  elder 
date,  the  old  examples  of  Abraham  and  the  patriarchs 
are   sufficient  to   illustrate ;    and  were  without  com- 
petition, if  it  could  be  made  out  that  Adam  was  buried 
near  Damascus,  or  Mount  Calvary,  according  to  some 
tradition.    God  himself,  that  buried  but  one,  was  pleased 
to  make  choice  of  this  way,  collectible  from  Scripture 
expression,  and  the  hot  contest  between  Satan  and  the 
archangel  about  discovering  the  body  of  Moses.     But 
the  practice  of  burning  was  also  of  great  antiquity,  and 
of  no  slender  extent.     For  (not  to  derive  the  same  from 
Hercules)  noble  descriptions  there  are  hereof  in  the 
Grecian  funerals  of  Homer,  in  the  formal  obsequies  of 
Patroclus  and  Achilles  ;    and  somewhat  elder  in  the 


H  YD  RIO  TAPHIA.  1 1 5 

Theban  war,  and  solemn  combustion  of  Mencceus,  and 
Archemorus,  contemporary  imto  Jair  the  eighth  judge 
of  IsraeL  Contirniable  also  among  the  Trojans,  from 
the  funeral  pyre  of  Hector,  burnt  before  the  gates  of 
Troy  :  and  the  burning  of  Penthesilea  the  Amazonian 
queen  :  and  long  continuance  of  that  practice,  in  the 
inward  coimtries  of  Asia  ;  while  as  low  as  the  reign  of 
Julian,  we  find  that  the  king  of  Chionia*  burnt  the 
body  of  his  son,  and  interred  the  ashes  in  a  silver  um. 

The  same  practice  extended  also  far  west ;  and 
besides  Herulians,  Getes,  and  Thracians,  was  in  use 
with  most  of  the  Ccltoe,  Sarmatiaus,  Germans,  Gauls, 
Danes,  Swedes,  Norwegians ;  not  to  omit  some  use 
thereof  among  Carthaginians  and  Ameiicaus.  Of 
greater  antiquity  among  the  Romans  than  most  opinion, 
or  PUny  seems  to  allow  :  for  (beside  the  old  table  laws  t 
of  burning  or  burying  within  the  city,  of  making  the 
funeral  tire  with  planed  wood,  or  quenching  the  fire 
with  wine),  Manlius  the  consul  burnt  the  body  of  his 
son  :  Numa,  by  special  clause  of  his  will,  was  not  burnt 
but  buried  ;  and  Remus  was  solemnly  burned,  according 
to  the  description  of  Ovid-  X 

Cornelius  SyUa  was  not  the  first  whose  body  was 
burned  in  Rome,  but  the  first  of  the  Cornelian  family  ; 
which  being  indifferently,  not  frequently  used  before  ; 
from  that  time  spread,  and  became  the  prevalent 
practice.  Not  totally  pursued  in  the  highest  run  of 
cremation  ;  for  when  even  crows  were  funerally  burnt, 
Poppaja  the  wife  of  Nero  found  a  pecvdiar  grave  in- 

•  Gumbrateg,  king  of    Chionia,  a  country  near  Persia. 

t  XII.  Tabula-,  jiart  i.,  de  jure  sacro,  "  Hominem  mortuum 
in  urbe  no  Hci><,-lilo  neve  unto." 

X  "Ultima  prolata  Hubdita  flamma  rogo,"  he.  Fast.,  lib. 
iv.,  856. 


1 1 6  HYDRIO  T A  PHI  A . 

terment  Now  as  all  customs  were  founded  upon  some 
bottom  of  reason,  so  there  wanted  not  grounds  for  this  ; 
according  to  several  apprehensions  of  the  most  rational 
dissolution.  Some  being  of  the  opinion  of  Thales,  that 
water  was  the  original  of  all  things,  thought  it  most 
equal  1  to  submit  imto  the  principle  of  putrefaction,  and 
conclude  in  a  moist  relentment.^  Others  conceived  it 
most  natural  to  end  in  fire,  as  due  unto  the  master 
principle  in  the  composition,  according  to  the  doctrine 
of  Heraclitus  ;  and  therefore  heaped  up  large  piles, 
more  actively  to  waft  them  toward  that  element, 
whereby  they  also  declined  a  visible  degeneration  into 
worms,  and  left  a  lastiug  parcel  of  their  composi- 
tion. 

Some  apprehended  a  purifying  virtue  in  fire,  refining 
the  grosser  commixture,  and  firing  out  the  asthereal 
particles  so  deeply  inunersed  in  it.  And  such  as  by 
tradition  or  rational  conjecture  held  any  hint  of  the 
final  pyre  of  all  things  ;  or  that  this  element  at  last 
must  be  too  hard  for  ail  the  rest ;  might  conceive  most 
naturally  of  the  fiery  dissolution.  Others  pretending 
no  natural  grounds,  politickly  declined  the  malice  of 
enemies  upon  their  biuied  bodies.  "Which  consideration 
led  Sylla  xmto  this  practice  ;  who  having  thus  served 
the  body  of  Marius,  could  not  but  fear  a  retaliation 
upon  his  o^vn  ;  entertained  after  in  the  civil  wars,  and 
revengeful  contentions  of  Eome. 

But  as  many  nations  embraced,  and  many  left  it  in- 
different, so  others  too  much  affected,  or  strictly  de- 
clined tliis  practice.  The  Indian  Brachmans  seemed 
too  great  friends  xmto  fire,  who  burnt  themselves  alive 
and  thought  it  the  noblest  way  to  end  their  days  in 
fire  ;  according  to  the  expression  of  the  Indian,  burning 
himself  at  Athens,  in  his  last  words  upon  the  pyre 


HYDRIOTAnriA.  ri; 

unto  the  amazed  spectators,  "  thus  I  make  myself  im- 
mortal."* 

But  the  Chaldeans,  the  great  idolaters  of  tiro,  ab- 
horred the  burning  of  their  carcases,  as  a  pollution  of 
that  deity.  The  Persian  magi  declined  it  upon  the 
like  scruple,  and  being  only  solicitous  about  their  bones, 
exposed  their  Hesh  to  the  prey  of  birds  and  dogs.  And 
the  Persees  now  in  India,  which  expose  their  bodies 
unto  ■siiltures,  and  endure  not  so  much  as  feretra  or 
biers  of  wood,  the  proper  fuel  of  fire,  are  led  on  with  such 
niceties.  But  whether  the  ancient  Genuans,  who  burned 
their  dead,  held  any  such  fear  to  pollute  their  deity  of 
Herthus.  or  the  earth,  we  have  no  authentic  conjecture. 

The  Egyptains  were  afraid  of  fire,  not  as  a  deity,  but 
a  devouring  element,  mercilessly  consuming  their 
bodies,  and  lea^•ing  too  little  of  them  ;  and  therefore 
by  precious  embalmments,  depositure  in  dry  earths,  or 
handsome  inclosure  in  glasses,  conti-ived  the  notablest 
ways  of  integral  conserv-ation.  And  from  such  Egj^p- 
tian  scruples,  imbibed  by  Pj-thagoras,  it  may  be  con- 
jectured that  Xuma  and  the  Pytliagorical  sect  first 
waived  the  fiery  solution. 

The  Scythians,  who  swore  by  -nind  and  sword,  that 
is,  by  life  and  death,  were  so  far  from  burning  their 
bodies,  that  they  declined  all  interment,  and  made  their 
graves  in  the  air  :  and  the  Ichthyophagi,  or  fish-eating 
nations  about  Eg3*pt,  affected  the  .sea  for  their  grave  ; 
thereby  declining  visible  corruption,  and  restoring  the 
debt  of  their  bodies.  Whereas  the  old  heroes,  in 
Homer,  dreaded  nothing  more  than  water  or  drowning; 
probably  upon  the  old  opinion  of  the  fiery  substance  of 
the  soul,  only  extinguishable  by  that  element ;  and 

•  And  therefore  tho  inscription  on  his  tomb  was  made  ac- 
cordinglv,  "Hie  Dumase." 


1 1 8  HYDRIO  TAPHIA. 

therefore  the  poet  emphatically  implieth*  the  total 
destruction  in  this  Mnd  of  death,  which  happened  to 
Ajax  Oileus. 

The  old  Balearians  had  a  peculiar  mode,  for  they 
used  great  iirns  and  much  wood,  but  no  fire  in  their 
burials,  while  they  bruised  the  flesh  and  bones  of  the 
dead,  crowded  them  into  urns,  and  laid  heaps  of  wood 
upon  them.  And  the  Chinese  without  cremation  or 
nmal  interment  of  their  bodies,  make  use  of  trees  and 
much  burning,  while  they  plant  a  pine-tree  by  their 
grave,  and  bum  great  numbers  of  printed  draughts  of 
slaves  and  horses  over  it,  civilly  content  with  their 
companies  in  e.ff.gy,  which  barbarous  nations  exact  unto 
reality. 

Christians  abhorred  this  way  of  obsequies,  and  though 
they  sticked  not  to  give  their  bodies  to  be  burnt  in  their 
lives,  detested  that  mode  after  death  :  affecting  rather  a 
depositure  than  absumption,  and  properly  submitting 
unto  the  sentence  of  God,  to  return  not  unto  ashes  but 
unto  dust  again,  and  comformable  unto  the  practice  of 
the  patriachs,  the  interment  of  our  Saviour,  of  Peter, 
Paul,  and  the  ancient  martyrs.  And  so  far  at  last  de- 
clining promiscuous  interment  with  Pagans,  that  some 
have  suffered  ecclesiastical  censures,t  for  making  no 
scruple  thereof. 

The  Mussulman  believers  will  never  admit  this  fiery 
resolution.  For  they  hold  a  present  trial  from  their 
black  and  white  angels  in  the  grave  ;  which  they  must 
have  made  so  hollow,  that  they  may  rise  upon  their 
knees. 

The  Jewish  nation,  though  they  entertained  the  old 
way    of   inhumation,    yet    sometimes    admitted    thi? 

*  Which  Magius  reads  i^airoXoAe. 

•}•  Martialis  the  Bishop. 


H  YD  RIO  TAPHIA.  1 1 9 

practice.  For  the  men  of  Jabesli  burnt  the  'body  of 
Saul ;  and  by  no  px-ohibited  practice,  to  avoid  contagion 
or  pollution,  in  time  of  pestilence,  burnt  the  bodies  of 
their  friends.*  And  -when  they  burnt  not  their  dead 
bodies,  yet  sometimes  used  great  burnings  near  and 
about  them,  deducible  from  the  expressions  concerning 
Jehoram,  Zedechias,  and  the  siuuptuous  pyre  of  Asa, 
^\jid  were  so  little  averse  from  Pagan  burning,  that  the 
Jews  lamenting  the  death  of  Ciesar  their  friend,  and 
revenger  on  Pompey,  frequented  the  place  where  his 
body  was  burnt  for  many  nights  together.  And  as 
they  raised  noble  monuments  and  mausoleums  for  their 
own  nation,t  so  they  were  not  scrupulous  in  erecting 
some  for  others,  according  to  the  practice  of  Daniel,  who 
left  that  lasting  sepulchral  pile  in  Ecbatana,  for  the 
Median  and  Persian  kings.  % 

But  even  in  times  of  subjection  and  hottest  use,  they 
conformed  not  unto  the  Roman  practice  of  burning  ; 
whereby  the  prophecy  was  secured  concerning  the  body 
of  Christ,  that  it  shoiUd  not  see  corruption,  or  a  bone 
should  not  be  broken  ;  which  we  believe  was  also  pro- 
videntially prevented,  from  the  soldier's  spear  and  nails 
tliat  passed  by  the  little  bones  both  in  his  hands  and 
feet ;  not  of  ordinary  contrivance,  that  it  should  not 
corrupt  on  the  cross,  according  to  the  laws  of  Roman 
crucifixion,  or  an  hair  of  his  head  perish,  though  observ- 
able in  Jewish  customs,  to  cut  the  hair  of  male- 
factors. 

•  Amos  vi.  10. 

+  Aa  in  that  magnificent  sepulchral  monument  erected  hy 
Simon. — 1  Marc.  xiii. 

X  KaracrKtvaffixa  Oavf/iaaiwi  irtTroirjfj.^fov,  whereof  a  Jewish 
)irie«t  had  always  custody  until  Jo!i<.'i)hu«'  i\ny».  -Jus.  A>iti(j.f 
Lb.  X. 


I20  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

Nor  in  theix  long  cohabitation  witli  Egyptains,  crept 
into  a  custom  of  their  exact  embalming,  wherein  deeply 
slashing  the  muscles,  and  taking  out  the  brains  and  en- 
trails, they  had  broken  the  subject  of  so  entire  a  resur- 
rection, nor  fully  answered  the  types  of  Enoch,  Elijah, 
or  Jonah,  which  yet  to  prevent  or  restore,  was  of  equal 
facility  unto  that  rising  power  able  to  break  the  fascia- 
tions  and  bands  of  death,  to  get  clear  out  of  the  cerecloth, 
and  an  hundred  pounds  of  ointment,  and  out  of  the 
sepulchre  before  the  stone  was  rolled  from  it. 

But  though  they  embraced  not  this  practice  of  burn- 
ing, yet  entertained  they  many  ceremonies  agreeable 
unto  Greek  and  Roman  obsequies.  And  he  that  ob- 
serveth  their  funeral  feasts,  their  lamentations  at  the 
grave,  their  music,  and  weeping  mourners  ;  how  they 
closed  the  eyes  of  their  friends,  how  they  washed, 
anointed,  and  kissed  the  dead ;  may  easily  conclude 
these  were  not  mere  Pagan  civilities.  But  whether 
that  mournful  burthen,  and  treble  calling  out  after 
Absalom,  had  any  reference  unto  the  last  conclamation, 
and  triple  valediction,  used  by  other  nations,  we  hold 
but  a  wavering  conjecture. 

Civilians  make  sepulture  but  of  the  law  of  nations, 
others  do  naturally  found  it  and  discover  it  also  in 
animals.  They  that  are  so  thick-skinned  as  still  to 
credit  the  story  of  the  Phoenix,  may  say  something  for 
animal  burning.  More  serious  conjectures  find  some 
examples  of  sepulture  in  elephants,  cranes,  the  sepul- 
chral cells  of  pismires,  and  practice  of  bees, — which 
civil  society  carrieth  out  their  dead,  and  hath  exequies, 
if  not  interments. 


IIYDRIOTAPHIA.  121 


CHAPTER  11. 


The  solemnities,  ceremonies,  rites  of  tlieir  cremation 
or  interment,  so  solemnly  delivered  by  antliors,  we 
aliall  not  disparage  our  reader  to  repeat.  Only  the  last 
and  lasting  part  in  their  iims,  collected  bones  and  ashes, 
we  cannot  wholly  omit  or  decline  that  subject,  which 
occasion  lately  presented,  in  some  discovered  among  us. 

In  a  field  of  Old  TValsingham,  not  many  months  past, 
were  digged  up  between  forty  and  fifty  urns,  deposited 
in  a  dry  and  sandy  soil,  not  a  yard  deep,  nor  far  from 
one  another. — Not  all  strictly  of  one  figure,  but  most 
answering  these  described ;  some  containing  two  pounds 
of  bones,  distinguishable  in  skulls,  ribs,  jaws,  thigh 
bones,  and  teeth,  with  fresh  impressions  of  their  com- 
bustion ;  besides  the  extraneous  substances,  like  pieces 
of  small  boxes,  or  combs  handsomely  wrought,  handles 
of  small  bra.ss  instruments,  brazen  nippers,  and  in  one 
some  kind  of  opal. 

Near  the  same  plot  of  ground,  for  about  six  yards 
compass,  were  digged  up  coals  and  incinerated  sub- 
stances, which  begat  conjecture  that  this  was  theiw^nwa 
or  place  of  burning  their  bodies,  or  some  sacrificing 
place  unto  the  Manes,  which  was  properly  below  the 
surface  of  the  ground,  as  the  ara  and  altars  unto  tlie 
god-s  and  heroes  above  it. 

That  these  were  the  urns  of  Romans  from  the  common 
custom  and  place  where  they  were  found,  is  no  obscure 
conjecture,  not  far  from  a  Roman  garrison,  and  but  five 
miles  from  Brancaster,  set  down  by  ancient  record  under 
the  name  of  Branodunum.     And  where  the  adjoining 


122  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

town,  containing  seven  parislies,  in  no  very  different 
sound,  but  Saxon  termination,  still  retains  the  name  of 
Bumham,  which,  being  an  early  station,  it  is  not  im- 
probable the  neighbour  parts  were  filled  with  habitations, 
either  of  Romans  themselves,  or  Britons  Romanized, 
which  observed  the  Roman  customs. 

Nor  is  it  improbable,  that  the  Romans  early  possessed 
this  country.  For  though  we  meet  not  with  such  strict 
particulars  of  these  parts  before  the  new  institution  of 
Constantine  and  military  charge  of  the  count  of  the 
Saxon  shore,  and  that  about  the  Saxon  invasions,  the 
Dalmatian  horsemen  were  in  the  garrison  of  Brancaster ; 
yet  in  the  time  of  Claudius,  Vespasian,  and  Severus,  we 
find  no  less  than  three  legions  dispersed  through  the 
province  of  Britain.  And  as  high  as  the  reign  of 
Claudius  a  great  overthrow  was  given  unto  the  Iceni, 
by  the  Roman  lieutenant  Ostorius.  Not  long  after,  the 
coimtry  was  so  molested,  that,  in  hope  of  a  better  state, 
Prastaagus  bequeathed  his  kingdom  unto  Nero  and  his 
daughters  ;  and  Boadicea,  his  queen,  fought  the  last 
decisive  battle  with  Paulinus.  After  which  time,  and 
conquest  of  Agricola,  the  lieutenant  of  Vespasian,  pro- 
bable it  is,  they  wholly  possessed  this  country ;  ordering 
it  into  garrisons  or  habitations  best  suitable  with  their 
securities.  And  so  some  Roman  habitations  not  im- 
probable in  these  parts,  as  high  as  the  time  of  Vespasian, 
where  the  Saxons  after  seated,  in  whose  thin-filled  maps 
we  yet  find  the  name  of  Walsingham.  Now  if  the  Iceni 
were  but  Gammadims,  Anconians,  or  men  that  lived  in 
an  angle,  wedge,  or  elbow  of  Britain,  according  to  the 
original  etymology,  this  country  will  challenge  the 
emphatical  appellation,  as  most  properly  making  the 
elbow  or  ih^n  of  Icenia. 

That  Britain  was  notably  populous  is  undeniable,  from 


HYDRIOTAFHIA.  123 

that  expression  of  Caesar.*  That  the  Romans  themselves 
were  early  in  no  small  numbers — seventy  thousand, 
with  their  associates,  slain,  by  Boadicea,  affords  a  sure 
account  And  though  not  many  Roman  habitations 
are  now  known,  yet  some,  by  old  works,  rampiers, 
coins,  and  urns,  do  testify  their  possessions.  Some  urns 
have  been  found  at  Castor,  some  also  about  Southcreak, 
and,  not  many  years  past,  no  less  than  ten  in  a  field  at 
Buxton,  not  near  any  recorded  garrison.  Nor  is  it 
strange  to  find  Roman  coins  of  copper  and  silver  among 
us  ;  of  Vespasian,  Trajan,  Adrian,  Commodus,  Anto- 
ninus, Severus,  &c.  ;  but  the  greater  number  of  Dio- 
clesian,  Constantine,  Constans,  Valens,  with  many  of 
Victorinus  Posthiunius,  Tetricus,  and  the  thirty  tyrants 
in  the  reign  of  Gallienus  ;  and  some  as  high  as  Adrianus 
have  been  found  about  Thetford,  or  Sitomagus,  mentioned 
in  the  Itinerary  of  Antoninus,  as  the  way  from  Venta  or 
Castor  unto  London.  But  the  most  frequent  discovery 
is  made  at  the  two  Castors  by  Norwich  and  Yarmouth 
at  Burghcastle,  and  Brancaster. 

Besides  the  Norman,  Saxon,  and  Danish  pieces  of 
Cuthred,  Canutus,  William,  Matilda,  and  others,  some 
British  coins  of  gold  have  been  dispersedly  found,  and 
no  small  number  of  silver  pieces  near  Norwich,  with  a 
rude  head  upon  the  obverse,  and  an  ill-formed  horse 
on  the  reverse,  ■with  inscriptions  Ic.  Duro.  T. ;  whether 
implying  Iceni,  Durotriges,  Tascia,  or  Trinobantes,  we 
leave  to  higher  conjecture.  Vulgar  chronology  will 
liave  Norwich  Castle  as  old  as  Julius  Ca;sar  ;  but  his 
distance  from  these  parts,  and  its  Gothick  form  of 
structure,  abridgeth  such  antiquity.  The  British  coins 
afford   conjecture   of  early  habitation   in   these  parts, 

•  "  Ilorainum  infinita  multitudo  est  cre1)errimaque  ;  aedi- 
ficia  fere  GalliciH  cuiiHiinilia." — C'lesar  de  Btllo.  (JaL,  lib.  v. 


124  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

though  the  city  of  Norwich  arose  from  the  ruins  of 
Venta ;  and  though,  perhaps,  not  without  some  habi- 
tation before,  was  enlarged,  builded,  and  nominated  by 
the  Saxons.  In  what  bulk  or  populosity  it  stood  in  the 
old  East-Angle  monarchy  tradition  and  history  are 
silent.  Considerable  it  was  in  the  Danish  eruptions, 
when  Sueno  burnt  Thetford  and  Norwich,  and  Ulfketel, 
the  governor  thereof,  was  able  to  make  some  resistance, 
and  after  endeavoured  to  bum  the  Danish  navy. 

How  the  Eomans  left  so  many  coins  in  countries  of 
their  conquests  seems  of  hard  resolution ;  except  we 
consider  how  they  bxiried  them  under  ground  when, 
upon  barbarous  invasions,  they  were  fain  to  desert  their 
habitations  in  most  part  of  their  empire,  and  the  strict- 
ness of  their  laws  forbidding  to  transfer  them  to  any 
other  uses  :  wherein  the  Spartans  were  singular,  who, 
to  make  their  copper  money  tiseless,  contempered  it  wdth 
vinegar.  That  the  Britons  left  any,  some  wonder,  since 
their  money  was  iron  and  iron  rings  before  Ceesar ;  and 
those  of  after-stamp  by  permission,  and  but  small  in 
bulk  and  bigness.  That  so  few  of  the  Saxons  remain, 
because,  overcome  by  succeeding  conquerors  upon  the 
place,  their  coins,  by  degrees,  passed  into  other  stamps 
and  the  marks  of  after-ages. 

Than  the  time  of  these  urns  deposited,  or  precise 
antiquity  of  these  reHcks,  notliing  of  more  uncertainty ; 
for  since  the  lieutenant  of  Claudius  seems  to  have  made 
the  first  progress  into  these  parts,  since  Boadicea  was 
overthro-\vn  by  the  forces  of  Nero,  and  Agricola  put  a 
fuU  end  to  these  conquests,  it  is  not  probable  the  country 
was  fully  garrisoned  or  planted  before  ;  and,  therefore, 
however  these  urns  might  be  of  later  date,  not  likely  of 
higher  antiquity. 

And  the  succeeding  emperors  desisted  not  from  their 


HYDRIOTAPHIA.  125 

conquests  in  these  and  other  parts,  as  testified  by  liistorj- 
and  medal-inscription  yet  extant :  the  province  of 
Britain,  in  so  divided  a  distance  from  Rome,  beholding 
the  faces  of  many  imperial  persons,  and  in  large  account ; 
no  fewer  than  Caesar,  Claudius,  Britannicus,  Vespasian, 
Titus,  Adrian,  Severus,  Commodus,  Geta,  and  Cara- 
calla. 

A  great  obscurity  herein,  because  no  medal  or  em- 
peror's coin  enclosed,  which  might  denote  the  date  of 
their  interments  ;  observable  in  m;iny  urns,  and  found 
in  those  of  Spitalfields,  by  London,  which  contained  the 
corns  of  Claudius,  Vespasian,  Commodus,  Antoninus, 
attended  with  lacrymatories,  lamps,  bottles  of  liquor, 
and  other  appurtenances  of  affectionate  superstition, 
which  in  these  rural  interments  were  wanting. 

Some  uncertainty  there  is  from  the  period  or  term  of 
burning,  or  the  cessation  of  that  practice.  Macrobius 
atlirmeth  it  was  disused  in  his  days  ;  but  most  a^ree, 
though  without  authentic  record,  that  it  ceased  with  the 
Antonini, — most  safely  to  be  understood  after  the  reign 
of  those  emperors  which  assumed  the  name  of  Antoninus 
extending  unto  Heliogabalus.  Not  strictly  after  Marcus ; 
for  about  fifty  years  later,  we  find  the  magnificent  burn- 
ing and  consecration  of  Serv'us  ;  and,  if  we  so  fix  this 
period  or  cessation,  these  urns  will  challenge  above 
thirteen  hundred  years. 

But  whether  this  practice  was  only  then  left  by  em- 
perors and  great  persons,  or  generally  about  Rome,  and 
not  in  other  provinces,  we  hold  no  authentic  account ; 
for  after  TertuUian,  in  the  days  of  Minucius,  it  was 
obviously  objected  upon  Christians,  that  they  con- 
demned the  ]>ractice  of  buniing.*     And  we  find  a  pass- 

Exccrantur  royos,  et  damnanl  ujaium  iiepuUu7-am."—Min. 
in  Oct. 


125  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

age  in  Sidonius,  which  asserteth.  that  practice  in  France 
unto  a  lower  account.  And,  perhaps,  not  folly  disused 
till  Christianity  fully  established,  which  gave  the  final 
extinction  to  these  sepulclu-al  bonfires. 

Whether  they  were  the  bones  of  men,  or  women,  or 
children,  no  authentic  decision  from  ancient  custom  in 
distinct  places  of  burial.  Although  not  improbably 
conjectured,  that  the  double  sepulture,  or  burying-place 
of  Abraham,  had  in  it  such  intention.  But  from  exility 
of  bones,  thinness  of  skulls,  smallness  of  teeth,  ribs,  and 
thigh-bones,  not  improbable  that  many  thereof  were 
persons  of  minor  age,  or  woman.  Confirmable  also  from 
things  contained  in  them.  In  most  were  found  sub- 
stances resembling  combs,  plates  like  boxes,  fastened 
with  iron  pins,  and  handsomely  overwrought  like  the 
necks  or  bridges  of  musical  instruments  ;  long  brass 
plates  overwTought  like  the  handles  of  neat  implements ; 
brazen  nippers,  to  pull  away  hair ;  and  in  one  a  kind 
of  opal,  yet  maintaining  a  bluish  colour. 

Now  that  they  accustomed  to  burn  or  bury  with  them, 
things  wherein  they  excelled,  delighted,  or  which  were 
dear  unto  them,  either  as  farewells  unto  all  pleasure,  or 
vain  apprehension  that  they  might  use  them  in  the 
other  world,  is  testified  by  all  antiquity,  observable 
from  the  gem  or  beryl  ring  upon  the  finger  of  Cynthia, 
the  mistress  of  Propertius,  when  after  her  funeral  pyre 
her  ghost  appeared  imto  htm  ;  and  notably  illustrated 
from  the  contents  of  that  Roman  urn  preserved  by 
Cardinal  Farnese,  wherein  besides  great  number  of 
gems  with  heads  of  gods  and  goddesses,  were  found  an 
ape  of  agath,  a  grasshopper,  an  elephant  of  amber,  a 
crystal  ball,  three  glasses,  two  spoons,  and  six  nuts  of 
crystal  ;  and  beyond  the  content  of  urns,  in  the  monu- 
ment of  Childerick  the   first,  and  fourth  king  from 


HYDRIO  TAPHTA.  1 27 

Pharamond,  casually  discovered  three  years  pa^^t  at 
Toumay,  restoring  unto  the  world  much  gold  richly 
adorning  his  sword,  two  hundred  rubies,  many  hundred 
imperial  coins,  three  hundred  golden  bees,  the  bones 
and  horse-shoes  of  his  horse  interred  with  him,  accord- 
ing to  the  barbarous  magnificence  of  those  days  in 
their  sepulchral  obsequies.  Although,  if  we  steer  by 
the  conjecture  of  many  a  Septuagint  expression,  some 
trace  thereof  may  be  found  even  with  the  ancient 
Hebrews,  not  only  from  the  sepulchral  treasure  of  David, 
but  the  circumcision  knives  which  Joshua  also  buried. 

Some  men,  considering  the  contents  of  these  urns, 
la.^ting  pieces  and  toys  included  in  them,  and  the  custom 
of  burning  \\'ith  many  other  nations,  might  somewhat 
doubt  whether  all  urns  foimd  among  ils,  were  properly 
Roman  relicks,  or  some  not  belonging  unto  our  British, 
Saxon,  or  Danish  forefathers. 

In  the  form  of  burial  among  the  ancient  Britons,  the 
large  discourses  of  Cajsar,  Tacitus,  and  Strabo  are  silent. 
For  the  discovery  whereof,  Avith  other  particulars,  we 
much  deplore  the  loss  of  that  letter  which  Cicero  ex- 
])ected  or  received  from  his  brother  Quintus,  as  a  resolu- 
tion of  British  customs  ;  or  the  account  which  might 
liave  been  made  by  Scribonius  Largus,  the  j)hysician, 
accompanying  the  Emperor  Claudius,  who  might  have 
also  discovered  that  frugal  bit  of  the  old  Britons,  which 
in  the  bigness  of  a  bean  could  satisfy  their  thirst  and 
hunger. 

But  that  the  Druids  and  ruling  priests  used  to  bum 
and  burj",  is  expressed  by  Pomponius  ;  that  Bellinus, 
the  brother  of  Brcnnus,  and  King  of  the  Britons,  was 
burnt,  is  acknowledged  by  Polydorus,  as  also  by  Am- 
andus  Zierexensis  in  Historia  and  Pineda  in  his  Universa 
Ilistoria  (Spanish).     That  they  held  that  practice  in 


128  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

Gallia,  Caesar  expressly  deliverethi.  Whether  the  Britons 
(probably  descended  from  them,  of  like  religion,  lan- 
guage, and  manners)  did  not  sometimes  make  use  of 
burning,  or  whether  at  least  such  as  were  after  civilised 
\mto  the  Roman  life  and  manners,  conformed  not  imto 
this  practice,  we  have  no  historical  assertion  or  denial. 
But  since,  from  the  account  of  Tacitus,  the  Romans 
early  wrought  so  much  civility  upon  the  British  stock, 
that  they  brought  them  to  build  temples,  to  wear  the 
gown,  and  study  the  Roman  laws  and  language,  that 
they  conformed  also  imto  their  religious  rites  and  cus- 
toms in  burials,  seems  no  improbable  conjecture. 

That  bumiug  the  dead  was  used  in  Sarmatia  is  aflBrmed 
by  Gaguinus  ;  that  the  Sueons  and  Gathlanders  used  to 
burn  their  princes  and  great  persons,  is  delivered  by 
Saxo  and  Olaus  ;  that  this  was  the  old  German  practice, 
is  also  asserted  by  Tacitus.  And  though  we  are  bare  in 
historical  particulars  of  such  obsequies  in  this  island,  or 
that  the  Saxons,  Jutes,  and  Angles  burnt  their  dead, 
yet  came  they  from  parts  where  'twas  of  ancient  practice ; 
the  Germans  usmg  it,  from  whom  they  were  descended. 
And  even  in  Jutland  and  Sleswick  in  Anglia  Cymbrica, 
urns  with  bones  were  found  not  many  years  before  us. 

But  the  Danish  and  northern  nations  have  raised  an 
era  or  point  of  compute  from  their  custom  of  burning 
their  dead  :  some  deriving  it  from  Unguinus,  some  from 
Frotho  the  great,  who  ordained  by  law,  that  priuces  and 
chief  commanders  should  be  committed  unto  the  fire, 
though  the  common  sort  had  the  common  grave  inter- 
ment. So  Starkatterus,  that  old  hero,  was  burnt,  and 
Ringo  royally  burnt  the  body  of  Harold  the  king  slain 
by  him. 

What  time  this  custom  generally  expired  in  that  na- 
tion, we  discern  no  assured  period ;  whether  it  ceased 


HYDRIOTAPHIA.  129 

before  Christianity,  or  upon  their  conversion,  by  Ans- 
gurius  the  Gaul,  in  the  time  of  Ludovicus  Pius,  the  son 
of  Charles  the  Great,  according  to  good  computes  ;  or 
■whether  it  might  not  be  used  by  some  persons,  while 
for  an  hundred  and  eighty  years  Paganism  and  Christi- 
anity were  promiscuously  embraced  among  them,  there 
is  no  assured  conclusion.  About  ■which  times  the  Danes 
■were  busy  in  England,  and  particularly  infested  this 
country ;  ■where  many  castles  and  strongholds  ■were 
built  by  them,  or  against  them,  and  great  nimiber  of 
names  and  families  still  derived  from  them.  But  since 
this  custom  ■was  probably  disused  before  their  invasion 
or  conquest,  and  the  Romans  confessedly  practised  the 
eame  since  their  possession  of  this  iskmd,  the  most 
assured  account  ^^'ill  f;ill  upon  the  Romans,  or  Britons 
Romanized. 

However,  certain  it  is,  that  urns  conceived  of  no 
Roman  original,  are  often  digged  up  both  in  Norway 
and  Denmark,  handsomely  described,  and  graphically 
represented  by  the  learned  physician  Wormius.  And 
in  some  parts  of  Denmark  in  no  ordinary  number,  as 
stands  delivered  by  authors  exactly  describing  those 
countries.  And  they  contained  not  only  bones,  but 
many  other  substances  in  them,  as  knives,  pieces  of 
iron,  brass,  and  wood,  and  one  of  Norway  a  brass  gilded 
jew's-harp. 

Nor  were  they  confused  or  careless  in  disposing  the 
noblest  sort,  while  they  placed  large  stones  in  circle 
about  the  urns  or  bodies  which  they  interred  :  somewhat 
answerable  unto  the  monument  of  RoUrich  stones  in 
England,  or  sepulchral  monument  probably  erected  by 
RoUo,  who  after  conquered  Normandy  ;  where  'tis  not 
improbable  somewhat  might  be  discovered.  Meanwhile 
to  what  nation  or  person  belonged  that  large  urn  found 

I 


I30  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

at  Ashbury,*  containing  mighty  bones,  and  a  buckler  ; 
what  those  large  urns  found  at  Little  Massingham  ;t 
or  why  the  Anglesea  urns  are  placed  with  their  mouths 
downward,  remains  yet  undiscovered. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Plaistebed  and  whited  sepulchres  were  anciently 
affected  in  cadaverous  and  corrupted  burials ;  and  the 
rigid  Jews  were  wont  to  garnish  the  sepulchres  of  the 
righteous.^  Ulysses,  va.  Hecuba,  cared  not  how  meanly 
he  lived,  so  he  might  find  a  noble  tomb  after  death.§ 
Great  princes  affected  great  monuments  ;  and  the  fair 
and  larger  urns  contained  no  vulgar  ashes,  which  makes 
that  disparity  in  those  which  time  discovereth  among 
us.  The  present  urns  were  not  of  one  capacity,  the 
largest  containing  above  a  gallon,  some  not  much  above 
half  that  measure  ;  nor  all  of  one  figure,  wherein  there 
is  no  strict  conformity  in  the  same  or  different  countries ; 
observable  from  those  represented  by  Casalius,  Bosio, 
and  others,  though  all  found  in  Italy  ;  while  many 
have  handles,  ears,  and  long  necks,  but  most  imitate  a 
circular  figure,  in  a  spherical  and  round  composure  ; 
whether  from  any  mystery,  best  duration  or  capacity, 
were  but  a  conjecture.  But  the  common  form  with 
necks  was  a  proper  figure,  making  our  last  bed  like  our 
first ;  nor  much  unlike  the  urns  of  our  nativity  while 
we  lay  in  the  nether  part  of  the  earth,||  and  inward 
vault  of  our  microcosm.  Many  urns  are  red,  these  but 
of  a  black  colour  somewhat  smooth,  and  dully  sounding, 

*•  In  Cheshire.        t  In  Norfolk.        %  St  Matt,  xxiii. 
§  Euripides.  ||  Psal.  Ixiii. 


HYDRIOTAFHIA.  131 

which  bofjat  some  doubt,  whether  they  were  l>umt,  or 
only  baked  in  oven  or  sun,  accoi-ding  to  the  ancient  way, 
in  many  bricks,  tiles,  pots,  and  testaceous  works  ;  and, 
as  the  word  testa  is  properly  to  be  taken,  when  occur- 
ring without  addition  and  chiefly  intended  by  Pliny, 
when  he  commendeth  bricks  and  tiles  of  two  years  old, 
and  to  make  them  in  the  spring.  Nor  only  these  con- 
cealed pieces,  but  the  open  magnificence  of  antiquity, 
ran  much  in  the  artifice  of  clay.  Hereof  the  house  of 
Mausolus  was  built,  thus  old  Jupiter  stood  in  the  Capitol, 
and  the  statua  of  Hercules,  made  in  the  reign  of  Tar- 
quinius  I*riscus,  was  extant  in  Pliny's  days.  And  such 
as  declined  burning  or  funeral  urns,  afl'ected  coffins  of 
clay,  according  to  the  mode  of  Pythagoras,  a  way  pre- 
ferred by  Varro.  But  the  spirit  of  great  ones  was  above 
these  circumscriptions,  affecting  copper,  silver,  gold,  and 
jjorphyry  urns,  wherein  Severus  lay,  after  a  serious 
view  and  sentence  on  that  which  should  contain  him.* 
Some  of  these  urns  were  thought  to  have  been  silvered 
over,  from  sparklings  in  several  pots,  with  small  tinsel 
parcels  ;  uncertain  whether  from  the  earth,  or  the  first 
mixture  in  them. 

Among  these  urns  we  could  obtain  no  good  account 
of  their  coverings  ;  only  one  seemed  arched  over  with 
some  kind  of  brickwork.  Of  those  found  at  Buxton, 
some  were  covered  with  flints,  some,  in  other  parts,  with 
tiles  ;  those  at  Yarmouth  Caster  were  closed  with  Roman 
bricks,  and  some  have  proper  earthen  covers  adapted 
and  fitted  to  them.  But  in  the  Homerical  um  of 
Patroclus,  whatever  was  the  solid  tegument,  we  find  the 
immediate  covering  to  be  a  purple  piece  of  silk  :  and 
such  as  had  no  covers  might  have   the   earth   closely 

•  "  Xa)/»i(rc(S  Thv  S-vOpuTTov,  bv  i}  olKOVnivri  ovk  ix^PVffev." — 
Dion. 


132  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

j)ressed  into  them,  after  which,  disposure  were  probably 
some  of  these,  wherein  we  found  the  bones  and  ashes 
haK  mortared  unto  the  sand  and  sides  of  the  urn,  and 
some  long  roots  ofquich,  or  dog's-grass,  wreathed  about 
the  bones. 

No  Lamps,  included  liquors,  lacrymatories,  or  tear 
bottles,  attended  these  rural  urns,  either  as  sacred  unto 
the  man&s,  or  passionate  expressions  of  their  surviving 
friends.  While  with  rich  flames,  and  liired  tears,  they 
solemnized  their  obsequies,  and  in  the  most  lamented 
monuments  made  one  part  of  their  inscriptions.*  Some 
find  sepulchral  vessels  containing  liquors,  which  time 
hath  incrassated  into  jellies.  Tor,  besides  these  lacry- 
matories, notable  lamps,  with  vessels  of  oils,  and  aro- 
matical  liquors,  attended  noble  ossuaries  ;  and  some 
yet  retaining  a  vinosity  and  spirit  in  them,  which,  if 
any  have  tasted,  they  have  far  exceeded  the  palates  of 
antiquity.  Liquors  not  to  be  computed  by  years  of 
aimual  magistrates,  but  by  great  conjunctions  and  the 
fatal  periods  of  kingdom  s.t  The  draughts  of  consulary 
date  were  but  crude  unto  these,  and  Opimian  wine  but 
in  the  must  imto  them.J 

In  sundry  graves  and  sepulchres  we  meet  with  rings, 
coins,  and  chalices.  Ancient  frugality  was  so  severe, 
that  they  allowed  no  gold  to  attend  the  corpse,  but  only 
that  which  served  to  fasten  their  teeth,  AVhether  the 
Opaline  stone  in  this  were  biu'nt  upon  the  finger  of  the 
dead,  or  cast  into  the  fire  by  some  afi'ectionate  friend, 
it  will  consist  Avith  either  custom.  But  other  inciner- 
able  substances  were  found  so  fresh,  that  they  could 
feel  no  singe  from  fire.     These,  upon  view,  were  judged 

*  "Cum  lacrymis  posuere." 
t  About  five  hundred  years. 
i  "  Vinuni  Opiminiamim  annorum  centum."— Pe<»'or!,. 


HYDRIOTAPHIA.  133 

to  be  wood  ;  but,  sinkiug  in  water,  and  tried  by  the 
fire,  we  found  them  to  be  bone  or  ivory.  In  their 
hardness  and  yellow  colour  they  most  resembled  box, 
which,  in  old  expressions,  found  the  epithet  of  eternal, 
and  perhaps  in  such  conservatories  might  have  passed 
uncorrupted. 

That  bay  leaves  were  found  green  in  the  tomb  of  S. 
Humbert,  after  an  hundred  and  fifty  years,  was  looked 
upon  as  miraculous.  Remarkable  it  was  unto  old 
spectators,  that  the  cypress  of  the  temple  of  Diana  lasted 
so  many  hundred  years.  The  wood  of  the  ark,  and 
olive-rod  of  Aaron,  were  older  at  the  captivity  ;  but 
the  cj-press  of  the  ark  of  Noah  was  the  greatest  vegetable 
of  antiquity,  if  Josephus  were  not  deceived  by  some 
fragments  of  it  in  his  days  :  to  omit  the  moor  logs 
and  fir  trees  found  underground  in  many  parts  of 
England  ;  the  undated  ruins  of  winds.  Hoods,  or  earth- 
quakes, and  which  in  Flanders  still  show  from  what 
quarter  they  fell,  as  generally  lying  in  a  north-east 
position. 

But  though  we  found  not  these  pieces  to  be  wood,  ac- 
cording to  first  apprehensions,  yet  we  missed  not  alto- 
gether of  some  woody  substance  ;  for  the  bones  were 
not  80  clearly  picked  but  some  coals  wore  found  amongst 
them ;  a  way  to  make  wood  perpetual,  and  a  fit  associate 
for  metal,  whereon  was  laid  the  foundation  of  the  great 
Ephesian  temple,  and  which  were  made  the  lasting  tests 
of  old  boundaries  and  landmarks.  Whilst  we  look  on 
these,  we  admire  not  observations  of  coals  found  fresh 
after  four  hundred  years.  In  a  long-deserted  habitation 
even  egg-shella  have  been  found  liesli,  not  tending  to 
corruption. 

In  tlie  monument  of  King  Childerick  the  iron  relicks 
were  found  all  rusty  and  crunilding  into  pieces  ;  but 


134  HYDRIOTAFHIA. 

our  little  iron  pins,  which,  fastened  the  ivory  works, 
held  well  together,  and  lost  not  their  magnetical  quality, 
though  wanting  a  tenacious  moisture  for  the  firmer 
union  of  parts ;  although  it  be  hardly  drawn  into  fusion, 
yet  that  metal  soon  submitteth  unto  rust  and  dissolu- 
tion. In  the  brazen  pieces  we  admired  not  the  duration, 
but  the  freedom  from  rust,  and  ill  savour,  upon  the 
hardest  attrition  ;  but  now  exposed  unto  the  piercing 
atoms  of  air,  in  the  space  of  a  few  months,  they  begin 
to  spot  and  betray  their  green  entrails.  We  conceive 
not  these  urns  to  have  descended  thus  naked  as  they 
appear,  or  to  have  entered  their  graves  without  the  old 
habit  of  flowers.  The  urn  of  PhUopcemen  was  so  laden 
with  flowers  and  ribbons,  that  it  afforded  no  sight  of 
itself.  The  rigid  Lycurgus  allowed  olive  and  myrtle. 
The  Athenians  might  fairly  except  against  the  practice 
of  Democritus,  to  be  buried  up  in  honey,  as  fearing  to 
embezzle  a  great  commodity  of  their  country,  and  the 
best  of  that  kiud  in  Europe.  But  Plato  seemed  too 
frugally  politick,  who  allowed  no  larger  monument 
than  would  contain  four  heroick  verses,  and  designed 
the  most  barren  ground  for  sepulture  :  though  we  can- 
not conamend  the  goodness  of  that  sepulchral  ground 
which  was  set  at  no  higher  rate  than  the  mean  salary 
of  Judas.  Though  the  earth  had  confounded  the  ashes 
of  these  ossuaries,  yet  the  bones  were  so  smartly  burnt, 
that  some  thin  plates  of  brass  were  found  half  melted 
among  them.  Whereby  we  aj)prehend  they  were  not 
of  the  meanest  carcases,  perfunctorily  fired,  as  some- 
times in  military,  and  commonly  in  pestUence,  burn- 
ings ;  or  after  the  manner  of  abject  corpses,  huddled 
forth  and  carelessly  burnt,  without  the  Esquiline  Port 
at  Rome ;  which  was  an  affront  continued  upon  Tiberius, 
while  they  but  half  burnt  his  body,  and  in  the  amphi- 


HYDRlOTAnilA.  135 

theatre,  according  to  the  custom  in  notable  malefac- 
tors ;♦  whereas  Nero  seemed  not  so  much  to  fear  his 
death  as  that  his  head  should  be  cut  oflF  and  his  body- 
not  burnt  entire. 

Some,  finding  many  fragments  of  skidls  in  these  ume, 
suspected  a  mixture  of  bones  ;  in  none  we  searched  was 
there  cause  of  such  conjecture,  though  sometimes  they 
declined  not  that  practice. — The  ashes  of  Domitiau 
were  mingled  with  those  of  Julia  ;  of  Achilles  Avith 
those  of  Patroclus.  All  urns  contained  not  single  ashes ; 
without  confused  buiniugs  they  affectionately  com- 
pounded their  bones ;  passionately  endeavouring  to 
continue  their  living  unions.  And  when  distance  of 
death  denied  such  conjunctions,  unsatisfied  affections 
conceived  some  satisfaction  to  be  neighbours  in  the 
grave,  to  lie  urn  by  urn,  and  touch  but  in  their  manes. 
And  many  were  so  curious  to  continue  tlieir  living  rela- 
tions, that  they  contrived  large  and  family  ums,  where- 
in the  ashes  of  their  nearest  friends  and  kindred  might 
successively  be  received,  at  least  some  parcels  thereof, 
while  their  collateral  memorials  lay  in  minor  vessels 
about  them. 

Antiquity  held  too  light  thoughts  from  objects  of 
mortality,  while  some  drew  provocatives  of  mirth  from 
anatomies,t  and  jugglers  showed  tricks  \s\\\\  skeletons. 
"WTien  fiddlers  made  not  so  pleasant  mirth  as  fencers, 
and  men  could  sit  with  quiet  stomachs,  while  hanging 
was  played  before  theui.  X     Old  considerations  made  few 

•  "In  amjihitheatro  Bemiuatulanduin."  —  HMcUmiui  Vit. 
Tib. 

t  "  Sic  erimus  cuncti,  ...  ergo  dum  vivimuB  vivamuB." 

*  Aydiyof  irotfti^.  A  barbarous  pastime  at  feasts,  when 
men  stood  upon  u  rolling  globe,  with  their  necks  in  a  roi)e  and 
a  knife  in  tbeir  hands,  ready  to  cut  it  when  the  stone  was 


136  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

mementos  by  skulls  and  bones  upon  their  monuments. 
In  the  Egyptian  obelisks  and  hieroglyphical  figures  it 
is  not  easy  to  meet  with  bones.  The  sepulchral  lamps 
speak  nothing  less  than  sepulture,  and  in  their  literal 
draughts  prove  often  obscene  and  antick  pieces.  Where 
■we  find  B.  M.  *  it  is  obvious  to  meet  with  sacrificing 
pater  as  and  vessels  of  libation  upon  old  sepulchral 
monuments.  In  the  Jewish  hypogseum  and  subter- 
ranean cell  at  Eome,  was  little  observable  beside  the 
variety  of  lamps  and  frequent  draughts  of  the  holy 
candle-stick.  In  authentick  draughts  of  Anthony  and 
Jerome  we  meet  with  thigh-bones  and  death's-heads  ; 
but  the  cemeterial  cells  of  ancient  Christians  and 
martyrs  were  filled  with  draughts  of  Scripture  stories  ; 
not  declining  the  flourishes  of  cypress,  palms,  and  olive, 
and  the  mystical  figures  of  peacocks,  doves,  and  cocks  ; 
but  iterately  aifecting  the  portraits  of  Enoch,  Lazarus, 
Jonas,  and  the  vision  of  Ezekiel,  as  hopeful  draughts, 
and  hinting  imagery  of  the  resurrection,  which  is  the 
life  of  the  grave,  and  sweetens  our  habitations  in  the 
land  of  moles  and  pismires. 

Gentle  inscriptions  precisely  delivered  the  extent  of 
men's  lives,  seldom  the  manner  of  their  deaths,  which 
history  itself  so  often  leaves  obscure  in  the  records  of 
memorable  persons.  There  is  scarce  any  philosopher  but 
dies  twice  or  thrice  in  Laertius  ;  nor  almost  any  life 
without  two  or  three  deaths  in  Plutarch  ;  which  makes 
the  tragical  ends  of  noble  persons  more  favourably  re- 
sented by  compassionate  readers  who  find  some  relief 
in  the  election  of  such  differences. 

The  certainty  of  death  is  attended  with  uncertainties, 

rolled  away,  wherein,  if  they  failed,  they  lost  their  lives,  to 
the  laughter  of  their  spectators. 
*  Diis  maiiibus. 


HYDRIOTAPIIIA.  137 

ill  time,  manner,  places.  The  variety  of  monitmcnt.s 
hath  ofteu  obscured  true  graves  ;  and  cenotaphs  con- 
founded sepulchres.  For  beside  their  real  tombs,  many- 
have  found  honorary  and  empty  sepulclires.  The 
vai'iety  of  Homer's  monuments  made  him  of  various 
countries.  Euripides  had  his  tomb  in  Africa,  but  his 
sepulture  in  Macedonia.  And  Severus  found  his  real 
sepulchre  in  Rome,  but  his  empty  grave  in  Gallia. 

He  that  lay  in  a  golden  urn  eminently  above  the  earth, 
was  not  like  to  find  the  quiet  of  his  bones.  Many  of 
these  urns  were  broke  by  a  ■\'ulgar  discoverer  in  hope  of 
enclosed  treasure.  The  a^^hes  of  Marcellus  were  lost 
above  ground,  upon  the  like  account.  "\Miere  profit 
hath  prompted,  no  age  hath  wanted  such  miners.  For 
which  the  most  barbarous  expilators  found  the  most 
civil  rhetorick-  Gold  once  out  of  the  earth  is  no  more 
due  tmto  it ;  what  was  unreasonably  committed  to  the 
ground,  is  reasonably  resumed  from  it ;  let  monuments 
and  rich  fabricks,  not  riches,  adorn  men's  ashes.  The 
commerce  of  the  living  is  not  to  be  transferred  unto  the 
dead  ;  it  is  not  injustice  to  take  that  which  none  com- 
plains to  lose,  and  no  man  is  wronged  where  no  man  is 
possessor. 

What  virtue  yet  sleeps  in  this  terra  damnata  and  aged 
cinders,  were  petty  magic  to  experiment.  These  crumb- 
ling relicks  and  long  tired  particles  superannuate  sucli 
expectations  ;  bones,  hairs,  nails,  and  teeth  of  the  dead, 
were  the  trea-sures  of  old  sorcerers.  In  vain  we  revive 
Buch  practices  ;  present  superstition  too  visibly  per- 
petuates the  folly  of  our  forefatliers,  wherein  imto  old 
observation  this  island  was  so  complete,  that  it  might 
have  instructed  Persia. 

Plato's  historian  of  the  other  world  lies  twelve  days 
iacorrupted,  while  his  soul  was  viewing  the  large  stations 


138  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

of  the  dead.  How  to  keep  tlie  corpse  seven  days  from 
corruption  by  anointing  and  washing,  without  exentera- 
tion, were  an  hazardable  piece  of  art,  in  our  choicest 
practice.  How  they  made  distinct  separation  of  bones 
and  ashes  from  fiery  admixture,  hath  foimd  no  historical 
solution  ;  though  they  seemed  to  make  a  distinct  col- 
lection and  overlooked  not  Pyrrhus  his  toe.  Some  pro- 
vision they  might  make  by  fictile  vessels,  coverings, 
tiles,  or  flat  stones,  upon  and  about  the  body  (and  in 
the  same  field,  not  far  from  these  urns,  many  stones  were 
found  underground),  as  also  by  careful  separation  of 
extraneous  matter  composing  and  raking  uj)  the  burnt 
bones  with  forks,  observable  in  that  notable  lamp  of 
Galvanus  Martianus,  who  had  the  sight  of  the  vm 
ustrinum  or  vessel  wherein  they  burnt  the  dead,  found 
in  the  Esquiline  field  at  Rome,  might  have  afforded 
clearer  solution.  But  their  insatisfaction  herein  begat 
that  remarkable  invention  in  the  funeral  pyres  of  some 
princes,  by  incombustible  sheets  made  with  a  texture  of 
asbestos,  incremable  flax,  or  salamander's  wool,  which 
preserved  their  bones  and  ashes  incommixed. 

How  the  bulk  of  a  man  should  sink  into  so  few  pounds 
of  bones  and  ashes,  may  seem  strange  unto  any  who 
considers  not  its  constitution,  and  how  slender  a  mass 
will  remain  upon  an  open  and  urging  fire  of  the  carnal 
composition.  Even  bones  themselves,  reduced  into 
ashes,  do  abate  a  notable  proportion.  And  consisting 
much  of  a  volatile  salt,  when  that  is  fired  out,  make  a 
light  kind  of  cinders.  Although  their  bulk  be  dis- 
proportion able  to  their  weight,  when  the  heavy  principle 
of  salt  is  fired  out,  and  the  earth  almost  only  remaineth  ; 
observable  in  sallow,  which  makes  more  ashes  than  oak, 
and  discovers  the  conmion  fraud  of  selling  ashes  by 
measure,  and  not  by  ponderation. 


]i  \  DKIO  TA  nil  A .  139 

Some  bones  make  best  skeletons,  some  bodies  ciuick 
and  speediest  ashes.  "Who  would  expect  a  quick  tiauie 
from  hydropical  Heraclitus  ?  The  poisoned  soldier 
when  his  belly  brake,  put  out  two  pyres  in  Plutarch. 
But  in  the  plague  of  Athens,  one  private  pjTe  sensed 
two  or  three  intruders  ;  and  the  Saracens  burnt  in  large 
heaps,  by  the  king  of  Castile,  showed  how  little  fuel 
sufficeth.  Though  the  funeral  pyre  of  Patroclus  took 
up  an  hundred  foot,*  apiece  ol'  an  old  boat  burnt  Pompey  ; 
and  if  the  burthen  of  Isaac  were  sufficient  for  an  holo- 
caust, a  man  may  carr\-  his  own  pyre. 

From  animals  are  drawn  good  burning  lights,  anil 
good  medicines  against  burning.  Though  the  seminiil 
humour  seems  of  a  contrary  nature  to  fire,  yet  the  body 
completed  proves  a  combustible  lump,  wherein  fire 
finds  llame  even  from  bones,  and  some  fuel  almost  from 
all  parts  ;  though  the  metropolis  of  humidity  t  seems 
least  disposed  untu  it,  which  might  render  the  skulls  of 
these  urns  less  burned  than  other  bones.  But  all  llies 
or  sinks  before  fire  almost  in  all  bodies  :  when  the  com- 
mon ligament  is  dissolved,  the  attenuable  parts  ascend, 
the  rest  subside  in  coal,  caLx,  or  ashes. 

To  bum  the  bones  of  the  king  of  Edom  for  lime,+ 
seems  no  irrational  ferity  ;  but  to  drink  of  the  ashes 
of  dead  relations,§  a  passionate  jirodigality.  He  that 
hath  the  ashes  of  his  friend,  liuth  an  everlasting 
treasure  ;  where  fire  taketh  leave,  corruption  slowly 
enters.  In  bones  well  bunit,  fire  makes  a  wall  against 
itself ;  experimented  in  C(jpels,'<  and  tests  of  metals, 
which  consist  of  such  ingredients.  AMiat  the  sun  com- 
poondcth,  fire  analyzeth,  not  transmuteth.     That  de- 

♦  '''EKarSnTtoovlfOa  1j  tvdoL." 

t  The  Brain.     Ilijipucraten.  *  Amos  ii.  1. 

§  As  Art4:miiiia  of  her  hubbaud  Mausuluu. 


I40  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

vouring  agent  leaves  almost  always  a  morsel  for  the 
earth,  whereof  all  things  are  but  a  colony  ;  and  which, 
if  time  permits,  the  mother  element  will  have  in  their 
primitive  mass  again. 

He  that  looks  for  urns  and  old  sepulchral  relicks,  must 
not  seek  them  in  the  ruins  of  temples,  where  no  religion 
anciently  placed  them.  These  were  found  in  a  field, 
according  to  ancient  custom,  in  noble  or  private  burial ; 
the  old  practice  of  the  Canaanites,  the  family  of  Abra- 
ham, and  the  burying-place  of  Joshua,  in  the  borders 
of  his  possessions;  and  also  agreeable  unto  Eoman 
practice  to  bury  by  highways,  whereby  their  monu- 
ments were  under  eye  : — memorials  of  themselves,  and 
mementoes  of  mortality  unto  living  passengers  ;  whom 
the  epitaphs  of  great  ones  were  fain  to  beg  to  stay  and 
look  upon  them, — a  language  though  sometimes  used, 
not  so  proper  in  church  inscriptions.*  The  sensible 
rhetorick  of  the  dead,  to  exemplarity  of  good  life,  first 
admitted  to  the  bones  of  pious  men  and  martyrs  within 
church  walls,  which  in  succeeding  ages  crept  into  pro- 
miscuous practice  :  while  Constantine  was  peculiarly 
favoured  to  be  admitted  into  the  church  porch,  and  the 
first  thus  buried  in  England,  was  in  the  days  of  Cuthred. 

Christians  dispute  how  their  bodies  should  lie  in.  the 
grave.  In  umal  interment  they  clearly  escaped  this 
controversy.  Though  we  decline  the  religious  considera- 
tion, yet  in  cemeterial  and  narrower  burying-places,  to 
avoid  confusion  and  cross-position,  a  certain  posture 
were  to  be  admitted :  which  even  Pagan  civility  observed. 
The  Persians  lay  north  and  south  ;  the  Megarians  and 
Phoenicians  placed  their  heads  to  the  east  ;  the  Athen- 
ians, some  think,  towards  the  west,  which  Christians 
still  retaiu.     And  Beda  will  have  it  to  be  the  posture 

*  Siste,  viator. 


HYDRIOTAPHIA.  141 

tif  our  Saviour.  That  he  was  crucified  with  his  face 
toward  the  west,  we  will  not  contend  with  tradition  and 
probable  account ;  but  we  applaud  not  the  hand  of  the 
painter,  in  exalting  his  cross  so  high  above  those  on 
either  side  :  since  hereof  we  find  no  autlientic  account 
in  history,  and  even  the  crosses  found  by  Helena,  pre- 
tend no  such  distinction  from  longitude  or  dimension. 

To  be  kna\''d  out  of  our  graves,  to  have  our  skulls 
made  drinking-bowls,  and  our  bones  turned  into  pipes, 
to  delight  and  sport  our  enemies,  are  tragical  abomina- 
tions escaped  in  burning  burials. 

Umal  interments  and  burnt  relicks  lie  not  in  fear  of 
worms,  or  to  be  an  heritage  for  serpents.  In  carnal 
sepulture,  corruptions  seem  peculiar  unto  parts  ;  and 
some  speak  of  snakes  out  of  the  spinal  maiTow.  But 
while  we  suppose  common  worms  in  graves,  'tis  not 
easy  to  find  any  there  ;  few  in  churchyards  above  a  foot 
deep,  fewer  or  none  in  churches  though  in  fresh-decayed 
bodies.  Teeth,  bones,  and  hair,  give  the  most  lasting 
defiance  to  corruption.  In  an  hj'dropical  body,  ten 
years  buried  in  the  churchyard,  we  met  with  a  fat  con- 
cretion, where  the  nitre  of  the  earth,  and  the  salt  and 
lixivious  litjuor  of  the  body,  had  coagulated  large  lumps 
of  fat  into  the  consistence  of  the  hardest  Castile  soap, 
whereof  part  remaineth  with  \is.*  After  a  battle  with 
the  Persians,  the  Roman  corpses  decayed  in  few  days, 
while  the  Persian  bodies  remained  dry  and  imcorrupted. 
Bodies  in  the  same  ground  do  not  uniformly  dissolve,  nor 
bones  equally  moulder  ;  whereof  in  the  opprobrious 
disease,  we  expect  no  long  duration.  The  body  of  the 
Marquis  of  Dorset  *  seemed  sound  and  handsomely  cere- 
clothed,  that  after  seventy-eight  years  was  found  uncor- 

•  'Who  was  buried  in  1530,  and  dug  up  in  1C08,  and  found 
perfect  like  an  ordinary  corpse  newly  interred. 


142  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

rupted.  Common  tombs  preserve  not  beyond  powder : 
a  firmer  consistence  and  compage  of  parts  might  be  ex- 
pected from  arefaction,  deep  burial,  or  charcoal.  The 
greatest  antiquities  of  mortal  bodies  may  remain  in 
putrefied  bones,  whereof,  though  we  take  not  in  the 
pillar  of  Lot's  wife,  or  metamorphosis  of  Ortelius,  some 
may  be  older  than  pyramids,  in  the  putrefied  relicks  of 
the  general  inundation.  When  Alexander  opened  the 
tomb  of  Cyrus,  the  remaining  bones  discovered  his  pro- 
portion, whereof  umal  fragments  afi"ord  but  a  bad 
conjecture,  and  have  this  disadvantage  of  grave  inter- 
ments, that  they  leave  us  ignorant  of  most  personal  dis- 
coveries. For  since  bones  afi'ord  not  only  rectitude  and 
stability  but  figure  unto  the  body,  it  is  no  impossible 
physiognomy  to  conjecture  at  fleshy  appendencies, 
and  after  Avhat  shape  the  muscles  and  carnous  parts 
might  hang  in  their  full  consistencies.  A  full-spread 
cariola  shows  a  well-shaped  horse  behind ;  handsome 
formed  skulls  give  some  analogy  of  fleshy  resemblance. 
A  critical  view  of  bones  makes  a  good  distinction  of 
sexes.  Even  colour  is  not  beyond  conjecture,  since  it 
is  hard  to  be  deceived  in  the  distinction  of  the  Negroes' 
skulls.s  Dante's*  claaracters  are  to  be  foimd  in  skulls  as 
weU  as  faces.  Hercules  is  not  only  known  by  his  foot. 
Other  parts  make  out  their  comproportions  and  infer- 
ences upon  whole  or  parts.  And  since  the  dimensions 
of  the  head  measure  the  whole  body,  and  the  figure 
thereof  gives  conjecture  of  the  principal  faculties  : 
physiognomy  outlives  ourselves,  and  ends  not  in  our 
graves. 

Severe  contemplators,  observing  these  lasting  relicks, 
may  think  them  good  monuments  of  persons  past,  little 
advantage  to  future  beings  ;  and,  considering  that  power 
*  Purgat.  xxiii.  31. 


//  }  -DRIO  TA  PHI  A .  143 

which  siibdueth  all  tilings  unto  itself,  that  can  resume 
the  scattered  atoms,  or  identiiy  out  of  auythiug,  conceive 
it  superfluous  to  expect  a  resurrection  out  of  relicks  : 
but  the  soul  subsisting,  other  matter,  clothed  with  due 
accidents,  may  salve  the  indiWduality.  Yet  the  saints, 
we  observe,  arose  from  graves  and  monuments  about 
the  holy  city.  Some  think  the  ancient  patriarchs  so 
earnestly  desired  to  lay  their  bones  in  Canaan,  as  hoping 
to  make  a  part  of  that  resurrection  ;  and,  though  thirty 
mUes  from  Mount  Calvary,  at  least  to  lie  in  that  region 
which  should  produce  the  tirst-fniits  of  the  dead.  And 
if,  according  to  learned  conjecture,  the  bodies  of  men 
shall  rise  where  their  greatest  relicks  remain,  many  are 
not  Uke  to  err  in  the  topography  of  their  resurrection, 
though  their  bones  or  bodies  be  after  translated  by 
an-rels  into  the  held  of  Ezekiel's  vision,  or  as  some  will 
order  it,  into  the  vaUey  of  judgment,  or  Jehosaphat. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Christians  have  handsomely  glossed  the  deformity 
of  death  by  careful  consideration  of  the  body,  and  civil 
rites  which  take  off  brutal  terminations  :  and  though 
they  conceived  all  reparable  by  a  resurrection,  cast  not 
off  all  care  of  interment.  And  since  the  aslies  of  sacrifices 
burnt  upon  the  altar  of  God  were  carefully  carried  out 
by  the  prie.st,s,  and  deposed  in  a  clean  field  ;  since  they 
acknowledged  their  bodies  to  be  the  lodging  of  Christ, 
luid  t*;mple.s  rjf  the  Holy  Ghost,  tliey  devolved  not  aU 
upon  the  sufficiency  of  soul-existence  ;  and  therefore 
with  long  services  and  full  soleuudties,  concluded  thoir 


144  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

last  exequies,  wlierein  to  all   distinctions  the   Greek 
devotion  seems  most  pathetically  ceremonious. 

Christian  invention  hath  chiefly  driven  at  rites,  which 
speak  hopes  of  another  life,  and  hints  of  a  resurrection. 
And  if  the  ancient  Gentiles  held  not  the  immortality  of 
their  better  part,  and  some  subsistence  after  death,  in 
several  rites,  customs,  actions,  and  expressions,  they 
contradicted  their  own  opinions  :  wherein  Democritus 
went  high,  even  to  the  thought  of  a  resurrection,  as 
scoffingly  recorded  by  Pliny.*  What  can  be  more 
express  than  the  expression  of  Phocylides  ?t  Or  who 
would  expect  from  Lucretius  %  a  sentence  of  Ecclesiastes  ? 
Before  Plato  could  speak,  the  soul  had  wings  in  Homer, 
which  fell  not,  but  flew  out  of  the  body  into  the  man- 
sions of  the  dead  ;  who  also  observed  that  handsome 
distinction  of  Demas  and  Soma,  for  the  body  conjoined 
to  the  soul,  and  body  separated  from  it.  Lucian  spoke 
much  truth  in  jest,  when  he  said  that  part  of  Hercules 
which  proceeded  from  Alcmena  perished,  that  from 
Jupiter  remained  immortal.  Thus  Socrates  was  con- 
tent that  his  friends  should  bury  his  body,  so  they 
would  not  think  thej''  buried  Socrates  ;  and,  regarding 
only  his  immortal  part,  was  indifferent  to  be  burnt  or 
buried.  From  such  considerations,  Diogenes  might 
contemn  sepulture,  and,  being  satisfied  that  the  soul 
could  not  perish,  grow  careless  of  corporal  interment. 
The  Stoicks,  who  thought  the  souls  of  wise  men  had 

*■  "  Similis  *  *  *  *  reviviscendi  promissa  Democrito  vanitas, 
qui  non  revixit  ipse.  Quce  {malum)  ista  dementia  est  ilerari 
vitam  morte  ?  " — Plin.  1.  vii.  c.  55. 

f  "  Kai  rdxa  §'  £k  yalTjs  iXirl^o/j-ev  ii  (pdos  eX^et;/  \e?-if/av 
diroixoiJ-^vuv." 

J  "  Cedit  item  retro  de  terra  quod  fiiit  ante  in  terras." — 
Luc,  lib.  ii.  998. 


HYDRIOTAFIIIA.  145 

their  habitation  about  the  moon,  might  make  sliglit 
jiccount  of  subten'aneous  deposition  ;  whereas  the 
Pythagoreans  and  transcorporating  philosophers,  wlio 
were  to  be  often  buried,  held  great  care  of  their  inter- 
ment. And  the  Platonicks  rejected  not  a  due  caie  of 
the  grave,  though  they  jtut  their  ashes  to  unreasonable 
expectations,  in  their  tedious  term  of  return  and  long 
set  revolution. 

Men  have  lost  their  reason  in  nothing  so  much  as 
their  religion,  wherein  stones  and  clouts  make  martyrs  ; 
and,  since  the  religion  of  one  seems  madness  xmto 
another,  to  afford  an  account  or  rational  of  old  rites 
requires  no  rigid  reader.  That  they  kindled  the  pyre 
aversely,  or  turning  their  face  from  it,  was  an  handsome 
sjTnbol  of  unwilling  ministration.  That  they  washed 
their  bones  with  wine  and  milk  ;  that  the  mother 
wrapped  them  in  linen,  and  dried  them  in  her  bosom, 
the  first  fostering  part  and  place  of  their  nourishment  ; 
that  they  opened  their  eyes  towanls  heaven  before  they 
kindled  the  fire,  as  the  place  of  their  hopes  or  original, 
were  no  improper  ceremonies.  Their  last  valediction,* 
thrice  uttered  by  the  attendants,  was  also  very  solemn, 
and  somewhat  answered  by  Christians,  who  thought  it 
too  little,  if  they  threw  not  the  earth  thrice  upon  the 
interred  body.  That,  in  strewing  their  tombs,  the 
Romans  affected  the  rose  ;  the  Greeks  amaranthus  and 
myrtle  :  that  the  funeral  pyre  consisted  of  sweet  fuel, 
cypress,  fir,  larix,  yew,  and  trees  perpetually  verdant, 
lay  silent  expres-sions  of  their  surviving  hopes.  Wherein 
(Christians,  who  deck  their  culiius  with  bays,  have  found 
a  more  elegant  emblem  ;  for  that  it,  seeming  dead,  will 
restore  itself  from  the  root,  and  its  dry  and  exsuccous 

•  "  Vale,  vale,  nos  te  ordine  quo  natum  i>ennittet  sequa- 
mur." 

K 


146  HYDRIOTAFHIA. 

leaves  resume  their  verdure  again  ;  which,  if  we  mis- 
take not,  we  have  also  observed  in  furze.  Whether  the 
planting  of  yew  in  churchyards  hold  not  its  original 
from  ancient  funeral  rites,  or  as  an  emblem  of  resur- 
rection, from  its  perpetual  verdure,  may  also  admit 
conjecture. 

They  made  use  of  miisick  to  excite  or  quiet  the 
affections  of  their  friends,  according  to  different  har- 
monies. But  the  secret  and  symbolical  hint  was  the 
harmonical  nature  of  the  soul ;  which,  delivered  from 
the  body,  went  again  to  enjoy  the  primitive  harmony 
of  heaven,  from  whence  it  first  descended  ;  which, 
according  to  its  progress  traced  by  antiquity,  came 
down  by  Cancer,  and  ascended  by  Capricornus. 

They  burnt  not  children  before  their  teeth  appeared, 
as  apprehending  their  bodies  too  tender  a  morsel  for 
fire,  and  that  their  gristly  bones  would  scarce  leave 
separable  relicks  after  the  pyral  combustion.  That  they 
kindled  not  fixe  in  their  houses  for  some  days  after  was 
a  strict  memorial  of  the  late  affiicting  fiie.  And  mourn- 
ing without  hope,  they  had  an  happy  fraud  against 
excessive  lamentation,  by  a  common  opinion  that  deep 
sorrows  disturb  their  ghosts.* 

That  they  buried  their  dead  on  their  backs,  or  in  a 
supine  position,  seems  agreeable  unto  profound  sleep, 
and  common  posture  of  dying  ;  contrary  to  the  most 
natural  way  of  birth  ',  nor  unlike  our  pendulous 
posture,  in  the  doubtful  state  of  the  womb.  Diogenes 
was  singular,  who  preferred  a  prone  situation  in 
the  grave  ;  and  some  Christians  t  like  neither,  who 
decline  the  figure  of  rest,  and  make  choice  of  an 
erect  posture. 

That  they  carried  them  out  of  the  world  with  their 

*  "Tu  manea  ne  loede  meos."  t  The  Russians-  &c. 


HYDRIOTAPHIA.  147 

feet  font'ard,  not  inconsonant  unto  reason,  as  contrarj 
unto  the  native  posture  of  man,  and  his  production  first 
into  it ;  and  also  agreeable  unto  their  opinions,  while 
they  bid  adieu  unto  the  world,  not  to  look  again  upon 
it ;  whereas  Maliometans  who  think  to  return  to  a 
delightful  life  again,  are  carried  forth  with  their  heads 
forward,  and  looking  toward  their  houses. 

They  closed  their  eyes,  as  parts  which  first  die,  or 
first  discover  the  sad  effects  of  death.  But  their  iterated 
clamations  to  excitate  their  dying  or  dead  friends,  or 
revoke  them  unto  life  again,  was  a  vanity  of  affection  ; 
as  not  presumably  ignorant  of  the  critical  tests  of  death, 
by  apposition  of  feathers,  glasses,  and  reflection  of 
figures,  which  dead  eyes  represent  not :  which,  however 
not  strictly  verifiable  in  fresh  and  warm  cadavers, 
could  hai-dly  elude  the  test,  in  corpses  of  four  or  five 
days. 

That  they  sucked  in  the  last  breath  of  their  expiring 
friends,  was  surely  a  practice  of  no  medical  institution, 
but  a  loose  opinion  that  the  soul  passed  out  that  way, 
and  a  fondness  of  afi"ection,  from  some  Pj"thagorical 
foundation,  that  the  spirit  of  one  body  passed  into 
another,  which  they  wished  might  be  their  own. 

That  they  poured  oil  upon  the  pyre,  was  a  tolerable 
practice,  while  the  intention  rested  in  facilitating  the 
ascension.  But  to  place  good  omens  in  the  quick  and 
speedy  burning,  to  sacrifice  unto  the  winds  for  a 
despatch  in  this  office,  was  a  low  form  of  supersti- 
tion- 

The  archimime,  or  jester,  attending  the  funeral  train, 
and  imitating  the  speeches,  gesture,  and  manners  of  the 
deceased,  was  too  light  for  such  solemnities,  contradict- 
ing their   funeral  orations  and   doleful   rites    of    the 


148  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

That  they  buried  a  piece  of  money  with  them  as  a  fee 
of  the  Elysian  ferryman,  was  a  practice  full  of  folly. 
But  the  ancient  custom  of  placing  coins  in  considerable 
urns,  and  the  present  practice  of  burying  medals  in  the 
noble  foundations  of  Europe,  are  laudable  ways  of  his- 
torical discoveries,  in  actions,  persons,  chronologies  ; 
and  posterity  will  applaud  them. 

We  examine  not  the  old  laws  of  sepulture,  exempting 
certain  persons  from  burial  or  burning.  But  hereby  we 
apprehend  that  these  were  not  the  bones  of  persons 
planet-struck  or  burnt  with  fire  from  heaven  ;  no  relicks 
of  traitors  to  their  country,  self-killers,  or  sacrilegioiis 
malefactors  ;  persons  in  old  aprehension  unworthy  of  the 
earth  ;  condemned  unto  the  Tartarus  of  hell,  and  bottom- 
less pit  of  Pluto,  from  whence  there  was  no  redemp- 
tion. 

Nor  were  only  many  customs  questionable  in  order 
to  their  obsequies,  but  also  sundry  practices,  fictions, 
and  conceptions,  discordant  or  obscure,  of  their  state 
and  future  beings.  Whether  unto  eight  or  ten  bodies 
of  men  to  add  one  of  a  woman,  as  being  more  in- 
flammable and  unctuously  constituted  for  the  better 
pyral  combustion,  were  any  rational  practice  ;  or 
whether  the  complaint  of  Periander's  wife  be  toler- 
able, that  wanting  her  funeral  burning,  she  suffered 
intolerable  cold  in  hell,  according  to  the  constitution 
of  the  infernal  house  of  Pluto,  wherein  cold  makes  a 
great  part  of  their  tortures;  it  cannot  pass  without 
some  question. 

Why  the  female  ghosts  appear  imto  Ulysses,  before 
the  heroes  and  masculine  spirits, — why  the  Psyche  or 
soul  of  Tiresias  is  of  the  masculine  gender,  who,  being 
blind  on  earth,  sees  more  than  all  the  rest  in  hell ;  why 
the  funeral  suppers  consisted  of  eggs,  beans,  smallage. 


H  \  'DRIO  TA  nil  A .  1 49 

and  lettuce,  since  the  dead  are  made  to  eat  asphodels 
about  the  Elysian  meadows: — why,  since  there  Ls  no 
sacrifice  acceptable,  nor  any  propitiation  for  the  cove- 
nant of  the  grave,  men  set  up  the  deity  of  Morta,  and 
fruitlessly  adored  divinities  without  ears,  it  cannot 
escape  some  doubt. 

The  dead  seem  all  alive  in  the  human  Hades  of 
Homer,  yet  cannot  well  speak,  prophesy,  or  know  the 
living,  except  they  drink  blood,  wherein  is  the  life  of 
man.  And  therefore  the  souls  of  Penelope's  paramours, 
conducted  by  Mercury',  chirped  like  bats,  and  those 
which  followed  Hercules,  made  a  noise  but  like  a  flock 
of  birds. 

The  departed  spirits  know  things  past  and  to  come  ; 
yet  are  ignorant  of  things  present.  Agamemnon  fore- 
tells what  should  happen  unto  Ulysses  ;  yet  ignorantly 
inquires  what  is  become  of  his  own  son.  The  ghosts 
are  afraid  of  swords  in  Homer  ;  yet  Sibylla  tells  Jilneas 
in  VirgO,  the  thin  habit  of  spirits  was  beyond  the  force 
of  weapons.  Tlie  spirits  put  oft"  their  malice  with  their 
Ixxiies,  and  Caesar  and  Pompey  accord  in  Latin  hell ;  yet 
Ajax,  in  Homer,  endures  not  a  conference  with  Ulysses; 
and  Deiphobus  appears  all  mangled  in  Virgil's  ghosts, 
yet  we  meet  with  perfect  shadows  among  the  wounded 
ghosts  of  Homer. 

Since  Charon  in  Lucian  applauds  his  condition  among 
the  dead,  whether  it  be  handsomely  said  of  Achilles, 
that  li\Tng  contemner  of  death,  that  he  had  rather  be  a 
ploughman's  servant,  than  emperor  of  the  dead  ?  How 
Hercules  his  soul  is  in  hell,  and  yet  in  heaven  ;  and 
Julius  his  soul  in  a  star,  yet  seen  by  ^neas  in  hell  ? — 
except  the  ghosts  were  but  images  and  shadows  of  tlie 
soul,  received  in  higher  mansions,  according  to  the 
ancient  division  of  body,  soul,  and  image,  or  simulachrum 


ISO  H  YD  R IOTA  PHI  A. 

of  them  both.  The  particulars  of  future  beings  must 
needs  be  dark  unto  ancient  theories,  which  Christian 
philosophy  yet  determines  but  in  a  cloud  of  opinions 
A  dialogue  between  two  infants  in  the  womb  concerning 
the  state  of  this  world,  might  handsomely  illustrate 
our  ignorance  of  the  next,  wliereof  methinks  we 
yet  discourse  in  Pluto's  den,  and  are  but  embryo 
philosophers. 

Pythagoras  escapes  in  the  fabulous  hell  of  Dante,* 
among  that  swarm  of  philosophers,  wherein,  whilst  we 
meet  with  Plato  and  Socrates,  Cato  is  to  be  found  in  no 
lower  place  than  purgatory.  Among  all  the  set, 
Epicurus  is  most  considerable,  whom  men  make  honest 
without  an  Elysium,  who  contemned  life  without  en- 
couragement of  immortality,  and  making  nothing  after 
death,  yet  made  nothing  of  the  king  of  terrors. 

"Were  the  happiness  of  the  next  world  as  closely  appre- 
hended as  the  felicities  of  this,  it  were  a  martjrrdom  to 
live  ;  and  imto  such  as  consider  none  hereafter,  it  must  be 
more  than  death  to  die,  which  makes  us  amazed  at  those 
audacities  that  durst  be  nothing  and  return  into  their 
chaos  again.  Certainly  such  spirits  as  could  contemn 
death,  when  they  expected  no  better  being  after,  would 
have  scorned  to  live,  had  they  known  any.  And  there- 
fore we  applaud  not  the  judgment  of  Machiavel,  that 
Christianity  makes  men  cowards,  or  that  with  the  con- 
fidence of  but  half-dying,  the  despised  virtues  of 
patience  and  humility  have  abased  the  spirits  of  men, 
which  Pagan  principles  exalted  ;  but  rather  regulated 
the  wUdness  of  audacities  in  the  attempts,  grounds,  and 
eternal  sequels  of  death  ;  wherein  men  of  the  boldest 
spirits  are  often  prodigiously  temerarious.  Nor  can  we 
extenuate  the  valour  of  ancient  martyrs,  who  contemned 

*  Del  Inferno,  cant.  4. 


HVDRIO  TAPHJA.  1 5 1 

(leatL  in  the  uncomfortable  scene  of  their  lives,  and  in 
their  decreint  martynloms  did  probably  lose  not  many 
months  of  their  days,  or  parted  with  life  when  it  was 
scarce  worth  the  living.  For  (beside  that  long  time 
past  holds  no  consideration  unto  a  slender  time  to  come) 
they  had  no  small  (.lisadvantage  from  the  constitution 
of  old  age,  which  naturally  makes  men  fearful,  and 
complexionally  superannuated  from  the  bold  and 
courageous  thoughts  of  youth  and  fervent  years.  But 
the  contempt  of  death  from  corporal  animosity,  pro- 
moteth  not  our  felicity.  They  may  sit  in  the  orchestra, 
and  noblest  seats  of  heaven,  who  have  held  up 
shaking  hands  in  the  fire,  and  humanly  contended 
for  glory. 

Meanwhile  Epicurus  lies  deep  in  Dante's  hell,  when! 
in  we  meet  with  tombs  enclosing  souls  which  denietv. 
their  immortalities.  But  whether  the  virtuous  heathen, 
who  lived  better  than  he  spake,  or  erring  in  the  prin- 
ciples of  himself,  yet  lived  above  philosophers  of  more 
specious  maxims,  lie  so  deep  as  he  is  placed,  at  least  so 
low  as  not  to  rise  against  Christians,  who  believing  or 
knowing  that  truth,  have  lastingly  denied  it  in  their 
practice  and  conversation — were  a  query  too  sad  to 
insist  on. 

But  all  or  most  apprehensions  rested  in  opinions  of 
some  future  Ijeing,  which,  ignorantly  or  coldly  believed, 
begat  those  perverted  conceptions,  ceremonies,  sayings, 
which  Christians  pity  or  laugh  at.  Happy  are  they 
which  live  not  in  that  disadvantage  of  time,  when  men 
could  hay  little  for  futurity,  but  from  reason  :  whereby 
the  noblest  minds  fell  often  upon  doubtful  deaths,  and 
melancholy  dissolutions.  With  these  hopes,  Socrates 
wanned  hi.s  doubtful  spirits  against  that  cold  jiotion  ; 
and  Cato,  before  he  dun^t  give  the  fatal  stroke,  spent  part 


1 52  H  YD  RIO  TAPHIA. 

of  the  night  in  reading  the  Immortality  of  Plato,  thereby 
confirming  his  wavering  hand  unto  the  animosity  of 
that  attempt. 

It  is  the  heaviest  stone  that  melancholy  can  throw  at 
a  man,  to  tell  him  he  is  at  the  end  of  his  nature  ;  or 
that  there  is  no  further  state  to  come,  unto  which 
this  seems  progressional,  and  otherwise  made  in  vain. 
Without  this  accomplishment,  the  natural  expectation 
and  desire  of  such  a  state,  were  but  a  fallacy  in  nature ; 
unsatisfied  considerators  would  quarrel  the  justice  of 
their  constitutions,  and  rest  content  that  Adam  had 
fallen  lower  ;  whereby,  by  knowing  no  other  original, 
and  deeper  ignorance  of  themselves,  they  might  have 
enjoyed  the  happiness  of  inferior  creatures,  who  in 
tranquillity  possess  their  constitutions,  as  having  not 
the  apprehension  to  deplore  their  own  natures,  and, 
being  framed  below  the  circumference  of  these  hopes, 
or  cognition  of  better  being,  the  wisdom  of  God  hath 
necessitated  their  contentment :  but  the  superior  in- 
gredient and  obscured  part  of  ourselves,  whereto  all 
present  felicities  afford  no  resting  contentment,  will  be 
able  at  last  to  tell  us,  we  are  more  than  our  present 
selves,  and  evacuate  such  hopes  in  the  fruition  of  their 
own  accomplishments. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Now  since  these  dead  bones  have  already  outlasted 
the  living  ones  of  Methuselah,  and  in  a  yard  under- 
ground, and  thin  walls  of  clay,  outworn  all  the  strong 
and  specious  buildings  above  it  ;  and  quietly  rested 
under  the  drums  and  tramplings  of  three  conquests  : 


HYDRIOTAPHIA.  153 

wliat  prince  can  promise  such diuturnity  unto  his  relicks, 
or  might  not  gladly  say, 

Sic  (go  componi  versus  in  ossa  velim  f  * 

Time,  •which  antiquates  antiquities,  and  hath  an  art  to 
make  dust  of  all  things,  hath  yet  spared  these  minor 
monuments. 

In  vain  we  hope  to  be  known  by  open  and  visible 
conser\-atories,  when  to  be  unknown  was  the  means  of 
their  continuation,  and  obscurity  their  protection.  If 
they  died  by  violent  hands,  and  were  thrust  into  their 
urns,  these  bones  become  considerable,  and  some  old 
philosophers  would  honour  them,  wliose  souls  they 
conceived  most  pure,  which  were  thus  snatched  from 
their  bodies,  and  to  retain  a  stronger  proponsion  unto 
them  ;  whereas  they  weariedly  left  a  languishing  corpse 
and  ^\'ith  faint  desires  of  re-union.  If  they  fell  by 
long  and  aged  decay,  yet  wrapt  up  in  the  bundle  of 
time,  they  fall  into  indistinction,  and  make  but  one 
*'''t  with  infants.  If  we  begin  to  die  when  we  live, 
and  long  life  be  but  a  prolongation  of  death,  our  life  is 
a  sad  composition  ;  we  live  with  death,  and  die  not  in 
a  moment.  How  many  pulses  made  up  the  life  of 
Methuselah,  were  work  for  Archimedes  :  common 
counters  sum  up  the  life  of  Moses  his  man.  Our  days 
become  considerable,  like  petty  sums,  by  minute  ac- 
cumulations :  wliere  numerous  fractions  make  up  but 
small  round  numbers  ;  and  our  days  of  a  span  long, 
make  not  one  little  finger,  t 

If  the  nearness  of  our  last  necessity  brought  a  nearer 
conformity  into   it,  there  were  a  happiness  in  hoary 

♦  TibuUtu,  lib.  iii.  eL  2,  26. 

+  Acconling  to  the  ancient  arithmetick  of  the  hand, wherein 
the  little  finger  of  the  riglit  hand  contracted,  signified  an 
hundre<l. — Pierius  in  HUroglijph. 


154  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

hairs,  and  no  calamity  in  haK-senses.  But  the  long 
habit  of  living  indisposeth  us  for  dying  ;  when  avarice 
makes  us  the  sport  of  death,  when  even  David  grew 
politickly  cruel,  and  Solomon  could  hardly  be  said  to 
be  the  wisest  of  men.  But  many  are  too  early  old,  and 
before  the  date  of  age.  Adversity  stretcheth  our  days, 
misery  makes  Alcmena's  nights,*  and  time  hath  no 
wings  unto  it.  But  the  most  tedious  being  is  that  which 
can  imwish  itself,  content  to  be  nothing,  or  never  to 
have  been,  which  was  beyond  the  malcontent  of  Job, 
who  cursed  not  the  day  of  his  life,  but  his  nativity ;  con- 
tent to  have  so  far  been,  as  to  have  a  title  to  future  being, 
although  he  had  lived  here  but  in  an  hidden  state  of 
life,  and  as  it  were  an  abortion. 

What  song  the  Syrens  sang,  or  what  name  Achilles 
assumed  when  he  hid  himself  among  women,  though 
puzzling  questions, t  are  not  beyond  all  conj  ecture.  What 
time  the  persons  of  these  ossuaries  entered  the  famous 
nations  of  the  dead,  and  slept  with  priuces  and  coun- 
sellors, might  admit  a  wide  solution.  But  who  were 
the  proprietaries  of  these  bones,  or  what  bodies  these 
ashes  made  up,  were  a  question  above  antiquarism  ;  not 
to  be  resolved  by  man,  nor  easily  perhaps  by  spirits, 
except  we  consult  the  provincial  guardians,  or  tutelary 
observators.  Had  they  made  as  good  provision  for 
their  names,  as  they  have  done  for  their  relicks,  they 
had  not  so  grossly  erred  in  the  art  of  perpetuation.  But 
to  subsist  in  bones,  and  be  but  pyramidally  extant,  is  a 
fallacy  in  duration.  Vaiu  ashes  which  in  the  oblivion 
of  names,  persons,  times,  and  sexes,  have  found  unto 
themselves  a  fruitless  continuation,  and  only  arise  unto 

*  One  night  as  long  as  three. 

t  The  puzzling  questions  of  Tiberius  unto  grammarians. — 
Marcel.    Donatus  in  Suet. 


HYDRlOTArHIA.  155 

late  posterity,  as  emblems  of  mortal  vanities,  antidotes 
jigainst  pride,  vain-glorv,  and  madding  vices.  Pagan 
vain-glories  which  thought  the  world  might  l;xst  for 
ever,  had  encouragement  for  ambition  ;  and,  linding  no 
atropos  unto  the  immortality  of  their  names,  were  never 
dampt  with  the  necessity  of  oblivion.  Even  old  ambi- 
tions had  the  advantage  of  ours,  in  the  attempts  of 
their  vain-glories,  who  acting  early,  and  before  the 
probable  meridian  of  time,  have  by  tliis  time  found 
great  accomplishment  of  their  designs,  whereby  the 
ancient  heroes  have  already  outlasted  their  monuments 
and  mechanical  preservations.  But  in  this  latter  scene 
of  time,  we  cannot  expect  such  mummies  unto  our 
memories,  when  ambition  may  fear  the  prophecy  of 
Eliiis,*  and  Charles  the  Fifth  can  never  hope  to  live 
within  two  Methuselahs  of  Hector.f 

And  therefore,  restless  inquietude  for  the  diutumity 
of  our  memories  unto  the  present  considerations  seems 
a  vanity  almost  out  of  date,  and  superannuated  piece  of 
folly.  We  cannot  hope  to  live  so  long  in  our  names, 
as  some  have  done  in  their  persons.  One  face  of  Janus 
holds  no  proportion  unto  the  other.  'Tis  too  late  to  be 
ambitious.  The  great  mutations  of  the  world  are  acted, 
or  time  may  be  too  short  for  our  designs.  To  extend 
our  memories  by  monuments,  whose  death  we  daily 
pray  for,  and  whose  duration  we  cannot  hope,  without 
injur)'  to  our  expectations  in  the  advent  of  the  last  day. 
were  a  contradiction  to  our  beliefs.  We  whose  genera- 
tions are  ordained  in  this  setting  part  of  time,  are  pro- 
videntially taken  off  from  such  ims^nations  ;  and, 
being   necessitated  to    eye   the   remaining  pailicle  of 

•  Tliat  the  world  muy  liwt  but  six  thousand  years. 
+  Hector's  fame  outlasting  above  two  lives  of  MetLuselaL 
before  that  fiunoui  prince  was  extant. 


156  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

futurity,  are  naturally  constituted  unto  thouglits  of  tlie 
next  world,  and  cannot  excusably  decline  the  considera- 
tion of  that  duration,  which  maketh  pyramids  pillars 
of  snow,  and  all  that 's  past  a  moment. 

Circles  and  right  lines  limit  and  close  all  bodies,  and 
the  mortal  right-lined  circle  *  must  conclude  and  shut 
up  all.  There  is  no  antidote  against  the  opium  of  time, 
which  temporally  considereth  all  things  :  our  fathers 
find  their  graves  in  our  short  memories,  and  sadly  tell 
us  how  we  may  be  buried  in  our  survivors.  Grave- 
stones tell  truth  scarce  forty  years.  Generations  pass 
while  some  trees  stand,  and  old  families  last  not  three 
oaks.  To  be  read  by  bare  inscriptions  like  many  in 
Gruter,  to  hope  for  eternity  by  enigmatical  epithets  or 
first  letters  of  our  names,  to  be  studied  by  antiquaries, 
who  we  were,  and  have  new  names  given  us  like  many 
of  the  mummies,  are  cold  consolations  unto  the  students 
of  perpetuity,  even  by  everlasting  languages. 

To  be  content  that  times  to  come  should  only  know 
there  was  such  a  man,  not  caring  whether  they  knew 
more  of  him,  was  a  frigid  ambition  in  Cardan  ;+  dispar- 
aging hishoroscopal  inclination  and  judgment  of  himself. 
Who  cares  to  subsist  like  Hij)pocrates's  patients,  or 
AchilLes's  horses  in  Homer,  under  naked  nominations, 
without  deserts  and  noble  acts,  which  are  the  balsam 
of  our  memories,  the  entelechia  and  soul  of  our  sub- 
sistences ?  To  be  nameless  in  worthy  deeds,  exceeds 
an  infamous  history.  The  Canaanitish  woman  lives 
more  happily  without  a  name,  than  Herodiaa  with 
one.  And  who  had  not  rather  have  been  the  good 
thief,  than  Pilate  ? 

*  The  character  of  death. 

•f"  "  Ouperem  notum  esse  quod  sim  non  op  to  ut  sciatur 
qualis  sim." 


HYDRIO  TA  PI  I  I  A.  1 5  7 

But  the  iniquity  of  oblivion  blindly  scattereth  her 
poppy,  and  deals  with  the  memory  of  men  without 
distinction  to  merit  of  perpetuity,  "Who  can  but 
pity  the  founder  of  the  p^Tamids  ?  Herostratus  lives 
that  burnt  the  temple  of  Diana,  he  is  almost  lost  tliat 
built  it.  Time  hath  spared  the  epitaph  of  Adrian's 
horse,  confounded  that  of  himself.  In  vain  we  com- 
pute our  felicities  by  the  advantage  of  our  good 
names,  since  bad  have  equal  durations,  and  Thersites 
is  like  to  live  as  long  as  Agamemnon  without  the 
favour  of  the  everlasting  register.  Who  knows 
whether  the  best  of  men  be  kno^vn,  or  whether  there 
be  not  more  remarkable  persons  forgot,  than  any 
that  stand  remembered  in  the  kno^vn  account  of  time  ? 
The  first  man  had  been  as  unknown  as  the  last, 
and  Methuselah's  long  life  had  been  his  only 
chronicle. 

Oblivion  is  not  to  be  hired.  The  greater  part  must 
be  content  to  be  as  though  they  had  not  been,  to  be 
found  in  the  register  of  God,  not  in  the  record  of  man. 
Twenty-seven  names  make  up  the  first  story  and  the 
recorded  names  ever  since  contain  not  one  living  cen- 
tur)-.  The  number  of  the  dead  long  exceedeth  all  that 
shall  live.  The  night  of  time  far  surpasseth  the  day, 
and  who  knows  when  was  the  equinox  ?  Every  hour 
adds  unto  that  current  arithmetick,  which  scarce  stands 
one  moment.  And  since  death  must  be  the  Lucina 
of  life,  and  even  Pagans'*  could  doubt,  whether 
thus  to  live  were  to  die ;  since  our  longest  sun  sets 
at  right  descensions,  and  mukes  but  winter  arches, 
and  therefore  it  cannot  be  long  before  we  lie  down 
in  darkness,  ami  liave  our  light  in  ashes  ;  since  tlie 
brother  of  death  daily  haunts  us  with  dying  memen- 
toes, and  time  that  grows  old  in  itself,  bids  us  hope 


158  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

no  long  duration  ; — diutui-nity  is  a  dream  and  folly 
of  expectation. 

Darkness  and  light  divide  the  course  of  time,  and 
oblivion  shares  with  memory  a  great  part  even  of  our 
living  beings  ;  we  slightly  remember  our  feKcities,  and 
the  smartest  strokes  of  affliction  leave  but  short  smart 
upon  us.  Sense  endureth  no  extremities,  and  sorrows 
destroy  us  or  themselves.  To  weep  into  stones  are 
fables.  Afflictions  induce  callosities  ;  miseries  are  slip- 
pery, or  fall  like  snow  upon  us,  which  notwithstanding 
is  no  unhappy  stupidity.  To  be  ignorant  of  evils  to 
come,  and  forgetful  of  evils  past,  is  a  merciful  provision 
in  nature,  whereby  we  digest  the  mixture  of  our  few 
and  evil  days,  and,  our  delivered  senses  not  relapsing 
into  cutting  remembrances,  our  sorrows  are  not  kept 
raw  by  the  edge  of  repetitions.  A  great  part  of  antiquity 
contented  their  hopes  of  subsistency  with  a  transmigra- 
tion of  their  souls, — a  good  way  to  continue  their  me- 
mories, while  having  the  advantage  of  plural  successions, 
they  could  not  but  act  something  remarkable  in  such 
variety  of  beings,  and  enjoying  the  fame  of  their  passed 
selves,  make  accumulation  of  glory  unto  their  last  dura- 
tions. Others,  rather  than  be  lost  in  the  uncomfortable 
night  of  nothing,  were  content  to  recede  into  the  common 
being,  and  make  one  particle  of  the  public  soul  of  all 
things,  which  was  no  more  than  to  retui'n  into  their  un- 
known and  divine  original  again.  Egyptian  ingenuity 
was  more  imsatisfied,  contriving  their  bodies  in  sweet 
consistences,  to  attend  the  return  of  their  souls.  But 
all  is  vanity,  feeding  the  wind,  and  folly.  Egyptian 
miimmies,  which  Cambyses  or  time  hath  spared, 
avarice  now  consumeth.  Mummy  is  become  mer- 
chandise, Mizraim,  cures  wounds,  and  Pharaoh  is  sold 
for  balsams. 


H  YD  RIO  TAPHIA .  1 59 

In  vain  do  individuals  hojie  for  immortality,  or  any 
patent  from  oblivion,  in  preservations  below  the  moon  ; 
men  have  been  deceived  even  in  their  flatteries,  above 
the  sun,  and  studied  conceits  to  perpetuate  their  names 
in  heaven.  The  various  cosmography  of  that  part  hath 
alreaily  varied  the  names  of  contrived  constellations  ; 
Nimrod  is  lost  in  Orion,  and  Osyris  in  the  Dog-star. 
While  we  look  for  incorruption  in  the  heavens,  we  find 
that  they  are  but  like  the  earth  ; — durable  in  their  main 
bodies,  alterable  in  their  parts ;  whereof,  beside  comets 
and  new  stars,  perspectives  begin  to  tell  tales,  and  the 
spots  that  wander  about  the  sun,  with  Phaeton's  favour, 
would  make  clear  conviction. 

There  is  nothing  strictly  immortal,  but  immortality. 
Wliatever  hath  no  beginning,  may  be  confident  of  no 
end  ; — all  others  have  a  dependent  being  and  within 
the  reach  of  destruction  ; — which  is  the  peculiar  of 
that  necessary  essence  that  cannot  destroy  itself ; — and 
the  highest  strain  of  omnipotency,  to  be  so  powerfully 
constituted  as  not  to  suffer  even  from  the  power  of 
itself.  But  the  sufficiency  of  Christian  immortality 
frustrates  all  earthly  glory,  and  the  quality  of  either 
state  after  death,  makes  a  folly  of  posthumous  memory. 
God.  who  can  only  destroy  our  souls,  and  hath  assured 
our  resurrection,  either  of  our  bodies  or  names  hath 
directly  promised  no  duration.  Wlierein  there  is  so 
much  of  cliance,  that  the  boldest  expectants  have  found 
unhappy  frustration  ;  and  to  hold  long  subsistence, 
seems  but  a  scape  in  oblivion.  But  man  is  a  noble 
animal,  splendid  in  ashes,  and  pompous  in  the  grave, 
solemnizing  nativities  and  deaths  with  equal  lustre, 
nor  omitting  ceremonies  of  bravery  in  the  infamy  of 
his  natuH'. 

Life  is  a  pure  flame,  and  we  live  by  an  invisible  sun 


l6o  HYDRIOTAPHIA. 

within  us.  A  small  fire  sufficeth  for  life,  great  flames 
seemed  too  little  after  deatli,  wliile  men  vainly  afi'ected 
precious  pyres,  and  to  hum  like  Sardanapalus  ;  but 
the  wisdom  of  funeral  laws  found  the  folly  of  prodigal 
blazes  and  reduced  undoing  fires  unto  the  rule  of  sober 
obsequies,  wherein  few  could  be  so  mean  as  not  to  pro- 
vide wood,  pitch,  a  mourner,  and  an  urn. 

Five  languages  7  secured  not  the  epitaph  of  Gordianus. 
The  man  of  God  lives  longer  without  a  tomb  than  any 
by  one,  invisibly  interred  by  angels,  and  adjudged  to 
obscurity,  though  not  without  some  marks  directing 
human  discovery.  Enoch  and  Elias,  without  either 
tomb  or  burial,  in  an  anomalous  state  of  being,  are 
the  great  examples  of  perpetuity,  in  their  long  and 
living  memory,  in  strict  account  being  still  on  this 
side  death,  and  having  a  late  part  yet  to  act  upon  this 
stage  of  earth.  If  in  the  decretory  term  of  the  world 
we  shall  not  all  die  but  be  changed,  according  to  re- 
ceived translation,  the  last  day  will  make  but  few  graves ; 
at  least  quick  resurrections  will  anticipate  lasting 
sepultures.  Some  graves  will  be  opened  before  they 
be  quite  closed,  and  Lazarus  be  no  wonder.  When  many 
that  feared  to  die,  shall  groan  that  they  can  die  but  once, 
the  dismal  state  is  the  second  and  living  death,  when 
life  puts  despair  on  the  damned  ;  when  men  shall  wish 
the  coverings  of  mountains,  not  of  monuments,  and 
annihilations  shall  be  courted. 

While  some  have  studied  monuments,  others  have 
studiously  declined  them,  and  some  have  been  so  vainly 
boisterous,  that  they  durst  not  acknowledge  their  graves; 
wherein  Alaricus  seems  most  subtle,  who  had  a  river 
turned  to  hide  his  bones  at  the  bottom.  Even  Sylla, 
that  thought  himself  safe  in  his  urn,  could  not  prevent 
revenging  tongues,  and  stones  thrown  at  his  monument. 


HYDRIOTAPHIA.  i6i 

Happy  are  they  whom  privacy  makes  innocent,  who 
cK-al  so  with  men  in  this  world,  that  they  are  not 
afraid  to  meet  them  in  the  next  ;  who,  when  they  die, 
make  no  commotion  among  the  dead,  and  are  not 
touched  -with  that  poetical  taunt  of  Isaiah.* 

Pyramids,  arches,  obelisks,  were  but  the  irregularities 
of  vain-glor)-,  and  wild  enormities  of  ancient  magna- 
nimity. But  the  most  magnanimous  resolution  rests  in 
the  Christian  religion,  which  trampleth  upon  pride  and 
sits  on  the  neck  of  ambition,  humbly  pursuing  that 
infallible  perpetuity,  unto  which  all  others  must 
diminish  their  diameters,  and  be  poorly  seen  in  angles 
of  contingency. t 

Pious  spirits  who  passed  their  days  in  raptures  of 
futurity,  made  little  more  of  this  world,  than  the  world 
that  was  before  it,  while  they  lay  obscure  in  the  chaos 
of  pre-ordination,  and  night  of  their  fore-beings.  And 
if  any  have  been  so  happy  as  truly  to  understand 
Cliristian  annihilation,  ecstasies,  exolution,  liquefaction, 
transformation,  the  kiss  of  the  spouse,  gustation  of 
God,  and  ingression  into  the  divine  shadow,  they  have 
already  had  an  handsome  anticipation  of  heaven  ;  the 
glory  of  the  world  is  surely  over,  and  the  earth  in  ashes 
unto  them. 

To  subsist  in  lasting  monuments,  to  live  in  their  pro- 
ductions, to  exist  in  their  names  and  predicament  of 
chimera.«,  was  large  satisfaction  unto  old  expectations, 
and  made  one  part  of  their  Elysiums.  But  all  this 
is  nothing  in  the  metaphysicks  of  tnie  belief.  To  live 
indeed,  is  to  be  again  ourselves,  which  being  not  only  an 
hope,  but  an  evidence  in  noble  believers,  'tis  all  one  to 
lie  in  St  Innocent's  J  church-yard  as  in  the  sands  of 

•  Ika,  xiv.  10.  +  The  least  of  angles. 

X  In  Paris,  wliere  bodicH  soon  consume. 


1 52 


HYDRIOTAPHTA. 


Egypt.  Ready  to  be  anything,  in  the  ecstasy  of 
being  ever,  and  as  content  with  six  foot  as  the  inoh?, 
of  Adrianus.* 

Tabesne  cadavera  solvat. 


An  ro(jus,haud  refert.^' — Lucan.  viii  809. 


*  A  stately  mausoleum  or  sepulchral  pile,  built  by  Adrianus 
in  Rome,  where  now  standeth  the  castle  of  St  Angelo. 


A  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND, 


UroS    OCCASION    OF   THE   DEATH    OF    UIS    INTIMATE    FKIENP. 


1 

B 

^^^t^ 

r^^flPtjifc^^^S?^-  '^^^ '^^fj^r"  tfffty] 

n 

a 

1 

p 

?*^5 

1 

1 

^^ 

1^ 

^ 

1 

LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 


I VE  me  leave  to  wonder  that  news  of  this  nature 
should  have  such  hea\'y  wings  that  you  should 
hear  so  little  concerning  your  dearest  friend, 
and  that  I  must  make  that  imwiLling  repetition  to  tell 
you,  "  ad  portam  rigidos  calces  exteiidit,"  that  he  is  dead 
and  buried,  and  by  this  time  no  puny  among  the  mighty 
nations  of  the  dead  ;  for  though  he  left  this  world  not 
very  many  days  past,  yet  every  hour  you  know  largely 
addeth  imto  that  dark  society  ;  and  considering  the 
incessant  mortality  of  mankind,  you  cannot  conceive 
there  dieth  in  the  whole  earth  so  few  as  a  thousand  an 
hour. 

Although  at  this  distance  you  had  no  early  account 
or  particular  of  his  death,  yet  your  affection  may  cease 
to  wonder  that  you  had  not  some  secret  sense  or  intima- 
tion thereof  by  dreams,  thoughtful  whisperings,  mer- 
curLsms,  airy  nuncios  or  sympathetical  insinuations, 
■which  many  seem  to  have  had  at  the  death  of  their 
dearest  friends  :  for  since  we  find  in  tliat  famous  story, 
that  spirits  tliemselves  were  fain  to  tell  their  fellows 
at  a  distance  that  tlie  great  Antonio  was  dead,  we  have 
a  sufficient  excuse  for  our  ignorance  in  such  particulars. 


1 66  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

and  must  rest  content  with  tlie  common  road,  and  Ap- 
pian  way  of  knowledge  by  information.  Though  the 
imcertainty  of  the  end  of  this  world  hath  confounded 
all  human  predictions  ;  yet  they  who  shall  live  to  see 
the  sun  and  moon  darkened,  and  the  stars  to  fall  from 
heaven,  will  hardly  he  deceived  in  the  advent  of  the 
last  day  ;  and  therefore  strange  it  is,  that  the  common 
fallacy  of  consiunptive  persons  who  feel  not  themselves 
dying,  and  therefore  still  hope  to  live,  should  also  reach 
their  friends  in  perfect  health  and  judgment ; — that  you 
should  be  so  little  acquainted  with  Plautus's  sick  com- 
plexion, or  that  almost  an  Hippocratical  face  should 
not  alarum  you  to  higher  fears,  or  rather  despair,  of 
his  continuation  in  such  an  emaciated  state,  wherein 
medical  predictions  fail  not,  as  sometimes  in  acute  dis- 
eases, and  wherein  'tis  as  dangerous  to  be  sentenced  by 
a  physician  as  a  judge. 

Upon  my  first  visit  I  was  bold  to  tell  them  who  had 
not  let  fall  all  hopes  of  his  recovery,  that  in  my  sad 
opinion  he  was  not  like  to  behold  a  grasshopper,^  much 
less  to  pluck  another  fig  ;  and  in  no  long  time  after 
seemed  to  discover  that  odd  mortal  symptom  in  him 
not  mentioned  by  Hippocrates,  that  is,  to  lose  his  own 
face,  and  look  like  some  of  his  near  relations  ;  for  he 
maintained  not  his  proper  countenance,  but  looked  like 
his  uncle,  the  lines  of  whose  face  lay  deep  and  invisible 
in  his  healthful  visage  before  :  for  as  from  our  begin- 
ning we  run  through  variety  of  looks,  before  we  come 
to  consistent  and  settled  faces  ;  so  before  our  end,  by 
sick  and  languishing  alterations,  we  put  on  new  visages  : 
and  in  our  retreat  to  earth,  may  fall  upon  such  looks 
which  from  community  of  seminal  originals  were  before 
latent  in  us. 

He  was  fruitlessly  put  in  hope  of  advantage  by  change 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  167 

of  air,  and  inibibing  the  pure  aerial  nitre  of  these  parts  ; 
and  therefore,  being  so  far  spent,  he  quickly  found  Sar- 
dinia in  Tivoli,*  and  the  most  heiilthful  air  of  little 
effect,  where  death  had  set  her  broad  arrow  ;  f  for  he 
lived  not  unto  tlie  middle  of  May,  and  confirmed  the 
observation  of  Hippocrates  of  that  mortal  time  of  the 
year  when  the  leaves  of  the  fig-tree  resemble  a  daw's 
claw.  He  is  happily  seated  who  lives  in  places  whose 
air,  earth,  and  water,  promote  not  the  infirmities  of  his 
weaker  parts,  or  is  early  removed  into  regions  that 
correct  them.  He  that  is  tabidly  ^  inclined,  were  unwise 
to  pass  his  days  in  Portugal  :  cholical  persons  will  find 
little  comfort  in  Austria  or  Vienna  :  he  that  is  weak- 
legged  must  not  be  in  love  witli  Home,  nor  an  infirm 
head  with  Venice  or  Paris.  Death  hath  not  only  par- 
ticular stars  in  heaven,  but  malevolent  places  on  ejirth, 
which  single  out  our  infirmities,  and  strike  at  our 
weaker  parts  ;  in  which  concern,  passager  and  migrant 
birds  have  the  great  advantages,  who  are  naturally 
constituted  for  distant  habitations,  whom  no  seas  nor 
jilaces  limit,  but  in  their  appointed  seasons  will  visit 
U8  from  Greenland  and  Mount  Atlas,  and,  as  some  think, 
even  from  the  Antipodes.^ 

Though  we  could  not  have  his  life,  yet  we  missed  not 
our  desires  in  Jiis  soft  departure,  which  was  scarce  an 
expiration  ;  and  his  end  not  unlike  his  beginning,  when 
the  salient  point  scarce  affords  a  sensible  motion,  and 
his  departure  so  like  unto  sleep,  that  he  scarce  needed 
the  ci\'il  ceremony  of  closing  his  eyes  ;  contrary  imto  tbt^ 
common  way,  wlierein  death  draws  up,  sleep  lets  fall 

•  "Cum  mom  venerit,  in  medio  Tibure  Sardinia  est." 
t  In  the  king'H  forcstH  tliey  net  the  figure  of  a  broad  iirrow 
nfton  trees  that  are  to  be  cut  down. 
1  Bellonitit  dc  Avibtu. 


1 68  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

the  eyelids.  With  what  strife  and  pains  we  came  into 
the  world  we  know  not  ;  but  'tis  commonly  no  easy 
matter  to  get  out  of  it  :  yet  if  it  could  be  made  out, 
that  such  who  have  easy  nativities  have  commonly  hard 
deaths,  and  contrarily  ;  his  departure  was  so  easy,  that 
we  might  justly  suspect  his  birth  was  of  another  nature, 
and  that  some  Juno  sat  cross-legged  at  his  nativity. 

Besides  his  soft  death,  the  incurable  state  of  his 
disease  might  somewhat  extenuate  your  sorrow,  who 
know  that  monsters  but  seldom  happen,  miracles  more 
rarely  in  physick.*  Angelus  Vidorius  gives  a  serious 
account  of  a  consimiptive,  hectical,  phthisical  woman, 
who  was  suddenly  cured  by  the  intercession  of  Ignatius. 
We  read  not  of  any  in  Scripture  who  in  this  case  applied 
unto  our  Saviour,  though  some  may  be  contained  in 
that  large  expression,  that  he  went  about  GaUlee  healing 
all  manner  of  sickness  and  all  manner  of  diseases.f 
Amulets,  spells,  sigils,  and  incantations,  practised  in 
other  diseases,  are  seldom  pretended  in  this  ;  and  we 
find  no  sigil  in  the  Archidoxis  of  Paracelsus  to  cure 
an  extreme  consumption  or  marasmus,  which,  if  other 
diseases  fail,  will  put  a  period  unto  long  livers,  and  at 
last  makes  dust  of  all.  And  therefore  the  Stoics  could 
not  but  think  that  the  fiery  principle  would  wear  out 
all  the  rest,  and  at  last  make  an  end  of  the  world,  which 
notwithstanding  without  such  a  lingering  period  the 
Creator  may  eff'ect  at  his  pleasure  :  and  to  make  an  end 
of  all  things  on  earth,  and  our  planetical  system  of  the 
world,  he  need  but  put  out  the  sun. 

I  was  not  so  cuiious  to  entitle  the  stars  unto  any 
concern  of  his  death,  yet  could  not  but  take  notice  that 

*  "  Monstra  contingunt  in  medicina."    Hippoc. — "Strange 
and  rare  escapes  there  happen  sometimes  in  physick." 
t  Matt.  iv.  23. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  169 

he  died  when  the  moon  was  in  motion  from  the  meri- 
dian ;  at  which  time  an  old  Italian  long  ago  would  per- 
suade me  that  the  greatest  part  of  men  died  :  but  herein 
I  confess  I  could  never  satisfy  my  curiosity  ;  although 
from  the  time  of  tides  in  places  upon  or  near  the  sea, 
there  may  be  considerable  deductions  ;  and  Pliny  *  hath 
an  odd  and  remarkable  passage  concemLiig  the  death  of 
men  and  animals  upon  the  recess  or  ebb  of  the  sea. 
However,  certain  it  is,  he  died  in  the  dead  and  deep 
part  of  the  night,  when  Nox  might  be  most  apprehen- 
sibly said  to  be  the  daughter  of  Chaos,  the  mother  of 
sleep  and  death,  according  to  old  genealogy ;  and  so 
went  out  of  this  world  about  that  hour  when  our  blessed 
Saviour  entered  it,  and  about  what  time  many  conceive 
he  will  return  again  unto  it.  Cardan  3  hath  a  peculiar 
and  no  hard  observation  from  a  man's  hand  to  know 
whether  he  was  bom  in  the  day  or  night,  which  I  con- 
fess holdeth  in  my  own.  And  Scaliger*  to  that  purpose 
hath  another  from  the  tip  of  the  ear  :  t  most  men  are 
begotten  in  the  night,  animals  in  the  day  ;  but  whether 
more  persons  have  been  born  in  the  night  or  day,  were 
a  curiosity  xindecidable,  though  more  have  persislied  by 
violent  deaths  in  the  day  ;  yet  in  natural  dissolutions 
both  times  may  hold  an  indifferency,  at  least  but  con- 
tingent inequality.  The  whole  course  of  time  runs  out 
in  the  nativity  and  death  of  things  ;  which  whether 
they  happen  by  succession  or  coincidence,  are  best  com- 
puted by  the  natural,  not  artificial  day. 

•  "  Ariiitotelcs  nullum  animal  nisi  a'stu  reccilento  cxi)irare 
afCrmat ;  observatuin  iil  multum  in  Gallico  Oceanoetduntaxat 
in  bomine  cornpertuni,"  lib.  2,  cij).  101. 

f  "  Auria  pars  iiciululn  lubuii  dicitur,  non  omnibus  ea  para, 
eat  auribiu ;  non  enim  lis  qui  noctu  sunt,  scd  qui  inturdiu, 
maxima  ex  parte."— Cam.  in  Aristot.  dc  Animal,  lib.  1. 


I70  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

That  Charles  the  Fifth^  was  crowned  upon  the  day 
of  his  nativity,  it  being  in  his  own  power  so  to  order 
it,  makes  no  singular  animadversion :  but  that  he 
should  also  take  King  Francis^  prisoner  upon  that 
day,  was  an  unexpected  coincidence,  which  made  the 
same  remarkable.  Antipater,  who  had  an  anniversary 
feast  every  year  upon  his  birth-day,  needed  no  astro- 
logical revolution  to  know  what  day  he  should  die  on. 
When  the  fixed  stars  have  made  a  revolution  unto  the 
points  from  whence  they  first  set  out,  some  of  the 
ancients  thought  the  world  would  have  an  end  ;  which 
was  a  kind  of  dying  upon  the  day  of  its  nativity.  Now 
the  disease  prevailing  and  swiftly  advancing  about  the 
time  of  his  nativity,  some  were  of  opiriion  that  he 
would  leave  the  world  on  the  day  he  entered  into  it  ; 
but  this  being  a  lingering  disease,  and  creeping  softly 
on,  nothing  critical  was  found  or  expected,  and  he  died 
not  before  fifteen  days  after.  Nothing  is  more  common 
with  infants  than  to  die  on  the  day  of  their  nativity,  to 
behold  the  worldly  hours,  and  but  the  fractions  thereof ; 
and  even  to  perish  before  their  nativity  in  the  hidden 
world  of  the  womb,  and  before  their  good  angel  is  con- 
ceived to  undertake  them.  But  in  persons  who  out- 
live many  years,  and  when  there  are  no  less  than  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  days  to  determine  their  lives  in 
every  year ;  that  the  first  day  should  make  the  last, 
that  the  tail  of  the  snake  should  return  into  its  mouth 
precisely  at  that  time,  and  they  should  wind  up  upon 
the  day  of  their  nativity,  is  indeed  a  remarkable 
coLncidence,  which,  though  astrology  hath  taken  witty 
pains  to  salve,  yet  hath  it  been  very  wary  in  making 
predictions  of  it.* 

In  this  consumptive  condition  and  remarkable  exten- 
*  According  to  the  Egyptian  hieroglyphic. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  171 

uation,  he  came  to  be  almost  half  himself,  and  left  a 
^Teat  part  behind  him,  which  he  carried  not  to  the 
grave.  And  though  that  story  of  Duke  John  Emestus 
Mansfield^*  be  not  so  easUy  swallowed,  that  at  his  death 
his  heart  was  found  not  to  be  so  big  as  a  nut ;  yet  if 
the  bones  of  a  good  skeleton  weigh  little  more  than 
twenty  pounds,  his  inwards  and  ilesh  remaining  could 
make  no  boufl'age,8  but  a  light  bit  for  the  grave.  I 
never  more  lively  beheld  the  starved  characters  of 
Dante  t  in  any  li^'ing  face  ;  an  aruspcx  might  have  read 
a  lecture  upon  him  -without  exenteration,  his  flesh 
l)eing  so  consumed,  that  he  might,  in  a  manner,  have 
discerned  his  bowels  without  opening  of  him  ;  so  that 
to  be  carried,  sexta  cervices  to  the  grave,  was  but  a 
civil  imnecessity ;  and  the  complements  of  the  cofl&n 
might  outweigh  the  subject  of  it. 

Chnnibonus  Ferrarius  in  mortal  dysenteries  of  chil- 
dren looks  for  a  spot  behind  the  ear  ;  in  consumptive 
diseases  some  eye  the  complexion  of  moles ;  Cardan 
eagerly  views  the  nails,  some  the  lines  of  the  hand,  the 
thenar  or  muscle  of  the  thumb  ;  some  are  so  curious  as 
to  observe  the  depth  of  the  throat-pit,  how  the  pro- 
])ortion  varieth  of  the  small  of  the  legs  unto  the  calf, 
(»r  the  compass  of  the  neck  unto  the  circumference  of 
the  head  ;  but  all  these,  with  many  more,  were  so 
drowned  in  a  mortal  visage,  and  last  face  of  Hippocra- 
tes, that  a  weak  pliysiognomist  might  say  at  first  eye,  this 
was  a  face  of  earth,  and  that  Morta^  had  set  her  liard  seal 
upon  his  temples,  easily  perceiving  what  caricaturaW 

•Turkish  hiBtorj". 
t  In  the  poft  l^aute'a  description. 
JLe.  "  by  six  pereonB." 
§  Morta,  the  deity  of  death  or  fate. 

II  When  inen'B  faces  are  drawn  with  resemblance  to  Bome 
other  animalB,  the  Italianu  call  it,  to  be  drawn  in  caricatura. 


172  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

draughts  deatli  makes  upon  pined  faces,  and  unto  what 
an  unknown  degree  a  man  may  live  backward. 

Though  the  heard  be  only  made  a  distinction  of  sex, 
and  sign  of  masculine  heat  by  Ubnus,*  yet  the 
precocity  and  early  growth  thereof  in  liim,  was  not 
to  be  Uked  in  reference  unto  long  life.  Lewis, 
that  virtuous  but  unfortunate  king  of  Hungary, 
who  lost  his  life  at  the  battle  of  Mohacz,^  was 
said  to  be  born  without  a  skin,  to  have  bearded  at 
fifteen,  and  to  have  shown  some  grey  hairs  about 
twenty  ;  from  whence  the  diviners  conjectured  that  he 
would  be  spoiled  of  his  kingdom,  and  have  but  a  short 
life ;  but  hairs  make  fallible  predictions,  and  many 
temples  early  grey  have  outlived  the  psalmist's  period,  f 
Hairs  which  have  most  amused  me  have  not  been  in  the 
face  or  head,  but  on  the  back,  and  not  in  men  but 
children,  as  I  long  ago  observed  in  that  endemial 
distemper  of  children  in  Languedoc,  called  the  mor- 
gellons,t  wherein  they  critically  break  out  with  harsh 
hairs  on  their  backs,  which  takes  off  the  unquiet  symp- 
toms of  the  disease,  and  delivers  them  from  coughs  and 
convulsions. 

The  Egyptian  mummies  that  I  have  seen,  have  had 
their  mouths  open,  and  somewhat  gaping,  which  afiord- 
eth  a  good  opportunity  to  view  and  observe  their  teeth, 
wherein  'tis  not  easy  to  find  any  wanting  or  decayed  ; 
and  therefore  in  Egypt,  where  one  man  practised  but 
one  operation,  or  the  diseases  but  of  single  parts,  it 
m.ust  needs  be  a  barren  profession  to  confine  unto  that  of 
drawing  of  teeth,  and  to  have  been  little  better  than  tooth- 

*  Ulmus  de  usu  harbce  humance. 

t  The  life  of  man  is  threescore  and  ten. 

4  See  Picotus  de  Bheumatismo. 


LETTER  TO  A  ERIEND.  173 

drawer  unto  Kin?  Pvrrhus.*  "svbo  had  but  two  in  his  head. 
How  the  banyans  of  India  maintain  the  integrity  oi 
those  parts,  I  find  not  particularly  observed  ;  who  not- 
withstanding have  an  advantage  of  their  preservation  by 
abstaining  from  all  flesh,  and  employing  their  teeth  in 
such  food  unto  which  they  may  seem  at  first  framed, 
from  their  figure  and  conformation  ;  biit  sharp  and 
corroding  rheums  had  so  early  mouldered  those  rocks 
and  hardest  parts  of  his  fabric,  that  a  man  might  well 
conceive  that  his  years  were  never  like  to  double  or 
twice  tell  over  his  teeth.f  Corruption  had  dealt  more 
severely  with  them  than  sepulchral  fires  and  smart 
flames  M'ith  those  of  burnt  bodies  of  old  ;  for  in  the 
burnt  fragments  of  urns  which  I  have  inquired  into, 
although  I  seem  to  find  few  incisors  or  shearers,  yet  the 
dog  teeth  and  grinders  do  notably  resist  those  fires. 

In  the  years  of  his  childhood  he  had  languished 
under  tlie  disease  of  his  covmtry,  the  rickets  ;  after 
Avhich,  not^rithstanding  many  have  become  strong  and 
active  men  ;  but  whether  any  have  attained  unto  very 
great  years,  the  disease  is  scarce  so  old  as  to  afi'ord  good 
observation.  Wliether  the  children  of  the  Englisli 
plantations  be  subject  unto  the  same  infirmity,  may  be 
worth  the  observing.  Whether  lameness  and  halting  do 
still  increase  among  the  inhabitants  of  Rovigno  in  Istria, 
I  know  not  ;  yet  scarce  twenty  years  ago  Monsieiir  du 
Loyr  observed  that  a  third  part  of  that  people  halted  ; 
but  too  certain  it  is,  that  the  rickets  increaseth  among 
us ;  the  sniall-pox  grows  more  pernicious  than  the  great ; 
the  king's  purse  knows  that  the  king's  evil  grows  more 
common-     Quartan  agues  are  become  no  strangers  in 

•  Ilia  upper  jaw  being  Bolid,  and  without  distinct  rows  of 
teeth- 
t  Twice  tell  over  bis  teeth,  never  live  to  threescore  yeanu 


174  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

Ireland  ;  more  common  and  mortal  in  England  ;  and 
thougli  the  ancients  gave  that  disease*  very  good  •words, 
yet  now  that  beUt  makes  no  strange  sound  which  rings 
out  for  the  effects  thereof. 

Some  tliink  there  were  few  consumptions  in  the  old 
world,  when  men  lived  much  upon  milk  ;  and  that  the 
ancient  inhabitants  of  this  island  were  less  troubled 
with  coughs  when  they  went  naked  and  slept  in  caves 
and  woods,  than  men  now  in  chambers  and  feather-beds. 
Plato  will  tell  us,  that  there  was  no  such  disease  as  a 
catarrh  in  Homer's  time,  and  that  it  was  but  new  in 
Greece  in  his  age.  Polydore  Virgil  delivereth  that 
pleurisies  were  rare  in  England,  who  lived  but  in  the 
days  of  Henry  the  Eighth.  Some  will  allow  no  diseases 
to  be  new,  others  think  that  many  old  ones  are  ceased  : 
and  that  such  which  are  esteemed  new,  will  have  but 
their  time  :  however,  the  mercy  of  God  hath  scattered 
the  great  heap  of  diseases,  and  not  loaded  any  one 
country  with  all :  some  may  be  new  in  one  country 
which  have  been  old  in  another.  New  discoveries  of 
the  earth  discover  new  diseases :  for  besides  the  common 
swarm,  there  are  endemial  and  local  infirmities  proper 
unto  certain  regions,  which  in  the  whole  earth  make  no 
small  number :  and  if  Asia,  Africa,  and  America,  should 
bring  in  their  list.  Pandora's  box  would  swell,  and  there 
must  be  a  strange  pathology. 

Most  men  expected  to  find  a  consumed  keU,i»  empty 
and  bladder-like  guts,  livid  and  marbled  lungs,  and  a 
withered  pericardium  in  this  exsuccous  corpse :  but  some 
seemed  too  much  to  wonder  that  two  lobes  of  his  lungs 
adhered  unto  his  side  ;  for  the  like  I  have  often  found 

*  Aa-<p(x\i<7TaTOS  koL    prjl'crTos,    securissima    et    facillima.— 
Ilippoc. 
f  Pro  febre  quartana  raro  sonat  campana. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  175 

in  bodies  of  no  suspected  consumptions  or  difficulty  of 
respiration.  And  the  same  more  often  happenotli  in 
men  than  other  animals  :  and  some  think  in  women 
than  in  men  :  but  the  most  remarkable  I  have  met 
with,  was  in  a  man,  after  a  cough  of  almost  fifty  years, 
in  whom  all  the  lobes  adhered  unto  the  pleura,  and 
each  lobe  unto  another  ;  who  having  also  been  much 
troubled  with  the  gout,  brake  the  rule  of  Cardan,*  and 
died  of  the  stone  in  the  bladder.  Aristotle  makes  a 
query,  why  some  animals  cough,  as  man  ;  some  not,  as 
oxen.  If  coughing  be  taken  as  it  consisteth  of  a 
natural  and  voluntary  motion,  including  exi^ectoration 
and  spitting  out,  it  may  be  as  proper  unto  man  as 
bleeding  at  the  nose  ;  otherwise  we  find  that  Vegetius 
and  rural  ^Titers  have  not  left  so  many  medicines  in  vain 
against  the  coughs  of  cattle  ;  and  men  who  perish  by 
coughs  die  the  death  of  sheep,  cats,  and  lions  :  and 
though  buds  have  no  midrili",  yet  we  meet  with  divers 
remedies  in  Arrianus  against  the  coughs  of  hawks. 
And  though  it  might  be  thought  that  all  animals  who 
liave  lungs  do  cough  ;  yet  in  cataceous  fishes,  who  have 
large  and  strong  lungs,  the  same  is  not  observed  ;  nor 
yet  in  oviparous  quadrupeds :  and  in  the  greatest 
thereof,  the  crocodile,  although  we  read  much  of  their 
tears,  we  find  nothing  of  that  motion. 

From  the  thoughts  of  sleep,  when  the  soul  waa  con- 
ceived neare.st  unt(j  divinity,  the  ancients  erected  an 
art  of  divination,  wherein  while  they  too  widely  ex- 
patiated in  loose  and  in  consequent  conjectures,  Hippo- 
crates t   wiHely   considered  dreams   as    they  presaged 

•  Cardan  in  liiii  Encomium  Podagrae  reckoneth  this  among 
the  Duna  Podatp-a,  that  they  are  delivered  thereby  from  the 
I>)ithiiiiB  and  atone  in  the  bladder. 

+  Hil»I>oc,  de  Ituomnii* 


176  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

alterations  in  the  body,  and  so  afforded  Mnts  toward 
the  preservation  of  health,  and  prevention  of  diseases ; 
and  therein,  was  so  serious  as  to  advise  alteration  of 
diet,  exercise,  sweating,  bathing,  and  vomiting ;  and 
also  so  religious  as  to  order  prayers  and  supplications 
unto  respective  deities,  in  good  dreams  unto  Sol, 
Jupiter  ccelestis,  Jupiter  opulentus,  Minerva,  Mer- 
curius,  and  Apollo ;  in  bad,  unto  TeUus  and  the 
heroes. 

And  therefore  I  could  not  but  notice  how  his  female 
friends  were  irrationally  curious  so  strictly  to  examine 
his  dreams,  and  in  this  low  state  to  hope  for  the 
phantasms  of  health.  He  was  now  past  the  healthful 
dreams  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  in  their  clarity  and 
proper  courses.  'Twas  too  late  to  dream  of  flying,  of 
limped  fountains,  smooth  waters,  white  vestments,  and 
fruitful  green  trees,  which  are  the  visions  of  healthful 
sleeps,  and  at  good  distance  from  the  grave. 

And  they  were  also  too  deeply  dejected  that  he  should 
dream  of  his  dead  friends,  inconsequently  divining,  that 
he  would  not  be  long  from  them  ;  for  strange  it  was  not 
that  he  should  sometimes  dream  of  tlie  dead,  whose 
thoughts  run  always  upon  death  ;  beside,  to  dream  of 
the  dead,  so  they  appear  not  in  dark  habits,  and  take 
notliing  away  from  us,  in  Hippocrates'  sense  was  of  good 
signification  :  for  we  live  by  the  dead,  and  everything 
is  or  miist  be  so  before  it  becomes  our  nourishment. 
And  Cardan,  who  dreamed  that  he  discoursed  with  his 
dead  father  in  the  moon,  made  thereof  no  mortal  in- 
terpretation ;  and  even  to  dream  that  we  are  dead,  was 
no  condemnable  phantasm  in  old  onciro-criticism,  as 
having  a  signification  of  liberty,  vacuity  from  cares, 
exemption  and  freedom  from  troubles  unknown  imto 
the  dead. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  177 

Some  dreams  I  confess  may  admit  of  easy  and  femi- 
nine exposition ;  he  who  dreamed  that  he  could  not  see 
his  riglit  shoulder,  might  easily  fear  to  lose  the  sight  of 
his  right  eye  ;  he  that  before  a  journey  dreamed  that 
his  feet  were  cut  off,  had  a  plain  waming  not  to  under- 
take his  intended  journey.  But  why  to  dream  of  lettuce 
should  presage  some  ensuing  disease,  why  to  eat  figs 
should  signify  foolish  talk,  why  to  eat  eggs  great  trouble, 
and  to  dream  of  blindness  should  be  so  highly  com- 
mended, accoi-ding  to  the  oneirocritical  verses  of  As- 
tranipsychus  and  Nicephorus,  I  shall  leave  unto  your 
divination. 

He  was  willing  to  quit  the  world  alone  and  altogether, 
leaN-ing  no  earnest  beliind  him  for  corruption  or  after- 
grave,  ha'STng  small  content  in  that  common  satisfaction 
to  sun'ive  or  live  in  another,  but  amply  satisfied  that 
his  disease  should  die  with  himself,  nor  revive  in  a  pos- 
terity to  puzzle  physic,  and  make  sad  mementoes  of  their 
parent  hereditary.  Leprosy  awakes  not  sometimes  before 
forty,  tlie  gout  and  stone  often  later  ;  but  consumptive 
an<l  tabid*  roots  sprout  more  early,  and  at  the  fairest 
make  seventeen  years  of  our  life  doubtful  before  that 
age.  They  that  enter  the  world  with  original  diseases 
as  well  as  sin,  have  not  only  common  mortality  but  sick 
traductions  to  destroy  them,  make  commonly  short 
courses,  and  live  not  at  length  but  in  figures  ;  so  that  a 
sound  Ca»arean  nati\'ityt  may  outlast  a  natural  birth, 
and  a  knife  may  sfjmetimes  make  way  for  a  more  last- 
ing fruit  than  a  midwife  ;  which  makes  so  few  infants 
now  able  to  endure  the  old  test  of  the  river,t  and  many 

•  Tabes  maxime  contingunt  abanno  decimo  octavo  ad  trigesi 
mum  quintum.  — //i/^/>oc. 

t  A  Huund  cliild  cut  out  of  the  body  of  the  mother. 

X  NatoM  ad  tluuiiuu  priiuuui  deferimus  aa^voquo  gulu  dura 
Diu»  et  uiidit. 


178  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

to  have  feeble  cliildren  who  could  scarce  have  been  mar- 
ried at  Sparta,  and  those  provident  states  who  studied 
strong  and  healthful  generations  ;  which  happen  but 
contingently  in  mere  pecuniary  matches  or  marriages 
made  by  the  candle,  wherein  notwithstanding  there  is 
little  redress  to  be  hoped  from  an  astrologer  or  a  lawyer, 
and  a  good  discerning  physician  were  Like  to  prove  the 
most  successful  counsellor. 

Julius  Scaliger,  who  in  a  sleepless  fit  of  the  gout  could 
make  two  hundred  verses  in  a  night,  would  have  but 
five*  plain  words  upon  his  tomb.  And  this  serious  per- 
son, though  no  minor  wit,  left  the  poetry  of  his  epitaph 
unto  others  ;  either  unwilling  to  commend  liimself,  or 
to  be  judged  by  a  distich,  and  perhaps  considering  how 
unhappy  great  poets  have  been  in  versifying  their  own 
epitaphs  ;  wherein  Petrarch,  Dante,  and  Ariosto,  have 
so  unhappily  failed,  that  if  their  tombs  should  outlast 
their  works,  posterity  would  find  so  little  of  Apollo  on 
them  as  to  mistake  them  for  Ciceronian  poets. 

In  this  deliberate  and  creeping  progress  imto  the 
grave,  he  was  somewhat  too  young  and  of  too  noble  a 
mind,  to  fall  upon  that  stupid  symptom  observable  in 
divers  persons  near  their  journey's  end,  and  which  may 
be  reckoned  among  the  mortal  symptoms  of  their  last 
disease  ;  that  is,  to  become  more  narrow-minded,  miser- 
able, and  tenacious,  unready  to  part  with  anything, 
when  they  are  ready  to  part  with  all,  and  afraid  to  want 
when  they  have  no  time  to  spend  ;  meanwhile  physi- 
cians, who  know  that  many  are  mad  but  in  a  single 
depraved  imagination,  and  one  prevalent  decipiency ; 
and  that  beside  and  out  of  such  single  deliriums  a  man 
may  meet  with  sober  actions  and  good  sense  in  bedlam  ; 

*  Julii  Cajsaris  Scaligeri  quod  fxiit.— Joseph.  Scaliger  in  vita 
patris. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  179 

cannot  but  sniile  to  see  the  heirs  and  concerned  relations 
gratulating  themselves  on  the  sober  departure  of  their 
friends  ;  and  though  they  behold  such  mad  covetous 
passages,  content  to  think  they  die  in  good  undersUiml- 
ing,  and  in  their  sober  senses. 

Avarice,  which  is  not  only  infidelity,  but  idolatry, 
either  from  covetous  progeny  or  questuary"  education, 
had  no  root  in  his  breast,  who  made  good  works  the 
expression  of  his  faith,  and  was  big  with  desires  unto 
public  and  lasting  charities  ;  and  surely  where  good 
wishes  and  charitable  intentions  exceed  abilities,  theori- 
cal  beneficency  may  be  more  than  a  dream.  They  build 
not  castles  in  the  air  who  would  build  churches  on 
earth  ;  and  though  they  leave  no  such  structures  here, 
may  lay  good  foundations  in  heaven.  In  brief,  his  life 
and  death  were  such,  that  I  could  not  blame  them  who 
wished  the  like,  and  almost  to  have  been  himself ; 
almost,  I  say  ;  for  though  we  may  wish  the  prosperous 
aj)purtenances  of  others,  or  to  be  another  in  his  happy 
accidents,  yet  so  intrinsical  is  everj'  man  unto  himself, 
that  some  doubt  may  be  made,  whether  any  would 
exchange  his  being,  or  substantially  become  another 
man. 

He  had  wisely  seen  the  world  at  home  and  abroad, 
and  thereby  observed  under  what  variety  men  are  de- 
luded in  the  pursuit  of  that  which  is  not  here  to  be 
found.  And  although  he  had  no  ojiinion  of  reputed 
felicitieij  below,  and  apprehended  men  widely  out  in  the 
estimate  of  such  hajijiiness,  yet  his  sober  contempt  of  the 
world  wrought  nu  Democratism  or  Cynicism,  no  laugh- 
ing or  snarling  at  it,  as  well  understanding  there  are  not 
felicities  in  this  world  to  satisfy  a  serious  mind  ;  and 
therefore,  to  soften  tlie  stream  of  our  lives,  we  are  fain 
\n  take  in  the  reputed  couteutatious  of  this  world,  to 


i8o  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

unite  witli  the  crowd  in  their  beatitudes,  and  to  make 
ourselves  happy  by  consortion,  opinion,  and  co-existi- 
mation  ;  for  strictly  to  separate  from  received  and  cus- 
tomary felicities,  and  to  confine  unto  the  rigour  of 
realities,  were  to  contract  the  consolation  of  our  beings 
unto  too  uncomfortable  circumscriptions. 

Not  to  fear  death,*  nor  desire  it,  was  short  of  his  re- 
solution :  to  be  dissolved,  and  be  with  Christ,  was  his 
dying  ditty.  He  conceived  his  thread  long,  in  no  long 
course  of  years,  and  when  he  had  scarce  outlived  the 
second  life  of  Lazarus  ;+  esteeming  it  enough  to  approach 
the  years  of  his  Saviour,  who  so  ordered  his  own  human 
state,  as  not  to  be  old  upon  earth. 

But  to  be  content  with  death  may  be  better  than  to 
desire  it ;  a  miserable  life  may  make  us  wish  for  death, 
but  a  virtuous  one  to  rest  in  it ;  which  is  the  advantage 
of  those  resolved  Christians,  who  looking  on  death  not 
only  as  the  sting,  but  the  period  and  end  of  sin,  the 
horizon  and  isthmus  between  this  life  and  a  better,  and 
the  death  of  this  world  but  as  a  nativity  of  another, 
do  contentedly  submit  unto  the  common  necessity,  and 
envy  not  Enoch  or  Elias. 

Not  to  be  content  with  life  is  the  unsatisfactory  state 
of  those  who  destroy  themselves,!  who  being  afraid  to 
live  run  bUndly  upon  their  own  death,  which  no  man 
fears  by  experience  :  and  the  Stoics  had  a  notable  doc- 

*  Summum  nee  metuas  diem  nee  optes. 

t  Who  upon  some  accounts,  and  tradition,  is  said  to  have 
lived  thirty  years  after  he  was  raised  by  our  Saviour. — 
Baronius. 

X  In  the  speech  of  Vulteius  in  Lucan,  animating  his  soldiers 
in  a  great  struggle  to  kill  one  another. — "  Decernite  lethum, 
et  metus  omnis  abest,  cupias  quodcunqne  necesse  est."  "  All 
fear  is  over,  do  but  resolve  to  die,  and  make  your  desires  meet 
necessity." — Phars.  iv.  486. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  i8i 

trine  to  take  away  the  fear  thereof ;  that  is,  in  such  ex- 
tremities, to  desire  that  which  is  not  to  be  avoided,  and 
wish  what  might  be  feared ;  and  so  made  evils  voluntary, 
and  to  suit  ■with  their  own  desires,  which  took  off  tlie 
terror  of  them. 

But  the  ancient  martjTS  were  not  encouraged  by  such 
fallacies  ;  who,  though  they  feared  not  death,  were  afraid 
to  be  their  own  executioners  ;  and  therefore  thought  it 
more  wisdom  to  crucify  their  lusts  than  their  bodies,  to 
circumcise  than  stab  their  heai-ts,  and  to  mortify  than 
kill  themselves. 

His  willingness  to  leave  this  world  about  that  age, 
when  most  men  think  they  may  best  enjoy  it,  though 
paradoxical  unto  worldly  ears,  was  not  strange  unto 
mine,  who  have  so  often  observed,  that  many,  though 
old,  oft  stick  fast  unto  the  world,  and  seem  to  be  drawn 
like  Cacus's  oxen'^,  backward,  with  great  struggling  and 
reluctancy  unto  the  grave.  The  long  habit  of  living 
makes  mere  men  more  hardly  to  part  with  life,  and  all 
to  be  nothing,  but  what  is  to  come.  To  live  at  the  rate 
of  the  old  world,  when  some  could  scarce  remember 
themselves  young,  may  afford  no  better  digested  death 
tlian  a  more  moderate  period.  Many  would  have 
thought  it  an  happiness  to  have  had  their  lot  of  life 
in  some  notable  conjunctures  of  ages  past  ;  but  the 
uncertainty  of  future  times  have  tempted  few  to  make 
a  part  in  ages  to  come.  And  surely,  he  that  hath  taken 
the  true  altitude  of  things,  and  rightly  calculated  the 
degenerate  state  of  this  age,  is  not  like  to  en\'y  those 
that  shall  live  in  the  next,  much  less  three  or  four  hun- 
dred years  hence,  when  no  man  can  comfortably  imagine 
what  face  this  world  will  carry  :  and  tlierefore  since 
every  age  maken  a  step  unto  the  end  of  all  things,  and 
the  Scripture  alfords  so  hard  a  character  of  the  liust 


i82  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

times  ;  quiet  minds  will  be  content  "nath  their  genera- 
tions, and  rather  bless  ages  past,  than  be  ambitious  of 
those  to  come. 

Though  age  had  set  no  seal  upon  his  face,  yet  a  dim 
eye  might  clearly  discover  fifty  in  his  actions  ;  and 
therefore,  since  wisdom  is  the  grey  hair,  and  an  un- 
spotted life  old  age  ;  although  his  years  come  short,  he 
might  have  been  said  to  have  held  up  with  longer 
livers,  and  to  have  been  Solomon's*  old  man.  And 
surely  if  we  deduct  all  those  days  of  our  life  which 
we  might  wish  xinlived,  and  which  abate  the  comfort  of 
those  we  now  live  ;  if  we  reckon  up  only  those  days 
which  God  hath  accepted  of  our  Lives,  a  life  of  good 
years  will  hardly  be  a  span  long  :  the  son  in  this  sense 
may  outlive  the  father,  and  none  be  climacterically 
old.  He  that  early  arriveth  unto  the  parts  and  pru- 
dence of  age,  is  happily  old  without  the  uncomfortable 
attendants  of  it ;  and  'tis  superfluous  to  live  unto  grey 
hairs,  when  in  precocious  temper  we  anticipate  the 
virtues  of  them.  In  brief,  he  cannot  be  accounted 
young  who  outliveth  the  old  man.  He  that  hath  early 
arrived  unto  the  measure  of  a  perfect  stature  in  Christ, 
hath  already  fulfilled  the  prime  and  longest  inten- 
tion of  his  being ;  and  one  day  lived  after  the  perfect 
rule  of  piety,  is  to  be  preferred  before  sinning  immor- 
tality. 

Although  he  attained  not  imto  the  years  of  his  prede- 
cessors, yet  he  wanted  not  those  preserving  virtues 
which  confirm  the  thread  of  weaker  constitutions.  Gau- 
telous  chastity  and  crafty  sobriety  were  far  from  him  ; 
those  jewels  were  paragon,  without  flaw,  hair,  ice,  or 
cloud  in  him  ;  which  aftbrds  me  a  hint  to  proceed  in 
these  good  wishes,  and  few  mementoes  unto  you. 
*  Wisdom,  cap.  iv. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  1S3 

Tread  softly  and  circumspectly  in  this  funambulous  " 
track  and  narrow  path  of  goodness  ;  pursue  virtue 
\'irtuously,  be  sober  and  temperate,  not  to  preserve  your 
body  in  a  sufficiuncy  for  wanton  ends,  not  to  spare  your 
purse,  not  to  be  free  from  the  infamy  of  common  trans- 
gressors that  way,  and  thereby  to  balance  or  palliate 
obscure  and  closer  vices,  nor  simply  to  enjoy  health,  by 
all  of  which  you  may  leaven  good  actions,  and  render 
virtues  disputable,  but,  iu  one  word,  that  you  may  truly 
serve  God,  wliich  every  sickness  -will  tell  you  you  cannot 
well  do  without  health.  The  sick  man's  sacrifice  is  but 
a  lame  oblation-  Pious  treasures,  laid  up  in  healtliful 
days,exciU5e  the  defect  of  sick  non-performances ;  without 
which  we  must  needs  look  back  with  anxiety  upon  the 
last  opportunities  of  health  ;  and  may  have  cause  rather 
to  env)'  than  pity  the  ends  of  penitent  malefactors,  who 
go  with  clear  parts  unto  the  last  act  of  tlieir  lives,  and 
in  the  integrity  of  their  faculties  return  theii'  spiiit  unto 
God  that  gave  it. 

Consider  whereabouts  thou  art  in  Cebe's"  table,  or 
that  old  philosophical  pinax"  of  the  life  of  man  ; 
whether  thou  art  still  in  the  road  of  uncertainties  ; 
whether  thou  hast  yet  entered  the  narrow  gate,  got  up 
tlie  liill  and  asperous  way  which  leadeth  unto  the  house 
of  sanity  ;  or  taken  that  purifying  potion  from  the  hand 
of  sincere  erudition,  which  may  send  thee  clear  and  pure 
away  unto  a  virtuous  and  happy  lii'e. 

In  this  virtuous  voyage  let  no  disappointment  cause 
despondency,  nor  ditliculty  despair.  Think  not  thai 
you  are  sailing  from  Lima  to  Manilla,*  '"  wherein 
thou  mayeiit  tie  up  the  nidfler,  and  sleep  befcjre  tlie 
wind,  but  expect  rough  seas.  Haws  and  contrary  blasts  ; 

•  Through  the  Pacifick  Sea  with  a  constant  gale  from  the 
eaat. 


184  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

and  'tis  well  if  by  many  cross  tacks  and  veerings  thou 
arrivest  at  the  port.  Sit  not  down  in  the  popular 
seats  and  common  level  of  virtues,  hut  endeavour  to 
make  them  heroical.  Offer  not  only  peace-offerings  but 
holocausts  unto  God.  To  serve  him  singly  to  serve  our- 
selves were  too  partial  a  piece  of  piety,  not  like  to  place 
us  in  the  highest  mansions  of  glory. 

He  that  is  chaste  and  continent  not  to  impair  his 
strength  or  terrified  by  contagion  wUl  hardly  be  heroically 
virtuous.  Adjourn  not  that  virtue  untU  those  years 
when  Cato  could  lend  out  his  wife,  and  impotent  satyrs 
^vrite  satires  against  lust,  but  be  chaste  in  thy  flaming 
days  when  Alexander  dared  not  trust  his  eyes  upon  the 
fair  sisters  of  Darius,  and  when  so  many  think  that 
there  is  no  other  way  but  Origen's.* 

Be  charitable  before  wealth  make  thee  covetous,  and 
lose  not  the  glory  of  the  mitre.  If  riches  increase,  let 
thy  mind  hold  pace  with  them,  and  think  it  is  not 
enough  to  be  liberal  but  munificent.  Though  a  cup  of 
cold  water  from  some  hand  may  not  be  without  its 
reward,  yet  stick  not  thou  for  wine  and  oil  for  the 
wounds  of  the  distressed,  and  treat  the  poor  as  our 
Saviour  did  the  multitude  to  the  reliques  of  some 
baskets. 

Trust  not  unto  the  omnipotency  of  gold,  or  say  not 
unto  it,  thou  art  my  confidence.  Kiss  not  thy  hand 
when  thou  beholdest  that  terrestrial  sun,  nor  bore  thy 
ear  imto  its  servitude.  A  slave  unto  Mammon  makes 
no  servant  unto  God.  Covetousness  cracks  the  sinews 
of  faith,  numbs  the  apprehension  of  anything  above' 
sense ;  and  only  affected  with  the  certainty  of  things 
present,  makes  a  peradventure  of  things  to  come  ;  lives 
but  imto  one  world,  nor  hopes  but  fears  another  :  makes 
*  Who  is  said  to  have  castrated  liimself. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  1S5 

their  own  death  sweet  unto  others,  bitter  unto  them- 
selves, brings  formal  sadness,  scenical  mourning,  and 
no  wet  eves  at  the  grave. 

If  avarice  be  thy  vice,  yet  make  it  not  thy  punish- 
ment. Miserable  men  commiserate  not  themselves, 
bowelless  unto  themselves,  and  merciless  unto  their 
own  bowels.  Let  the  fruition  of  things  bless  the 
possession  of  them,  and  take  no  satisfaction  in  dying 
but  living  rich.  For  since  thy  good  works,  not  thy 
goods  will  follow  thee ;  since  riches  are  an  appurtenance 
of  life,  and  no  dead  man  is  rich,  to  famish  in  plenty, 
and  live  poorly  to  die  rich,  were  a  multiplying  im- 
provement in  madness  and  use  upon  use  in  folly. 

Persons  lightly  dipt,  not  grained,  in  generous  honesty 
are  but  pale  in  goodness  and  faint-hued  in  sincerity. 
But  be  thou  what  thou  virtuously  art,  and  let  not  the 
ocean  wash  away  thy  tincture.  Stand  majestically  upon 
that  axis  where  prudent  suiiplicity  hath  fixed  thee  ; 
and  at  no  temptation  invert  the  poles  of  thy  honesty 
that  vice  may  be  imeasy  and  even  monstrous  unto 
thee  ;  let  iterated  good  acts  and  long  confinned  habits 
make  virtue  natural  or  a  second  nature  in  thee ;  and  since 
few  or  none  prove  eminently  virtuous  but  from  some 
advantageous  foimdations  in  their  temper  and  natural 
inclinations,  study  thyself  betimes,  and  early  find  what 
nature  bids  thee  to  be  or  tells  thee  what  thou  mayest 
Ije.  Tliey  who  thus  timely  descend  into  themselves, 
cultivating  the  goo<I  seeds  which  nature  hath  set  in  them, 
and  improving  their  prevalent  inclinations  to  perfection, 
become  not  shrubs  but  cedars  in  their  generation.  And 
to  Ixj  in  the  fona  of  the  best  of  bad,  or  the  worst  of  tlie 
good,  will  be  no  satisfaction  unto  them. 

Let  not  the  law  of  thy  country  be  the  non  ultra  of 
thy  honesty,  nor  think  lliat  always  good  enougli  li;at 


186  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

the  law  will  make  good.  Narrow  not  the  law  of 
charity,  equity,  mercy.  Join  gospel  righteousness  with 
legal  right.  Be  not  a  mere  Gamaliel  in  the  faith,  but 
let  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  be  thy  Targum  unto  the 
law  of  Sinai, 

Make  not  the  consequences  of  virtue  the  ends 
thereof.  Be  not  beneficent  for  a  name  or  cymbal 
of  applause  ;  nor  exact  and  punctual  in  commerce  for 
the  advantages  of  trust  and  credit,  which  attend  the 
reputation  of  ju.st  and  true  dealing  :  for  such  rewards, 
though  unsought  for,  plain  virtue  will  bring  with  her, 
whom  all  men  honour,  though  they  pursue  not.  To 
have  other  by-ends  in  good  actions  sours  laudable 
performances,  which  must  have  deeper  roots,  motives, 
and  instigations,  to  give  them  the  stamp  of  virtues. 

Though  human  infirmity  may  betray  thy  heedless 
days  into  the  popular  ways  of  extravagancy,  yet,  let 
not  thine  own  depravity  or  the  torrent  of  vicious  times 
carry  thee  into  desperate  enormities  in  opinions,  manners, 
or  actions.  If  thou  hast  dipped  thy  foot  in  the  river, 
yet  venture  not  over  Rubicon  ;  run  not  into  extremities 
from  whence  there  is  no  regression,  nor  be  ever  so  closely 
shut  up  within  the  holds  of  vice  and  iniquity,  as  not 
to  find  some  escape  by  a  postern  of  recipiscency.-^'' 

Owe  not  thy  hiunility  unto  humiliation  by  adversity, 
but  look  humbly  down  in  that  state  when  others  look 
upward  upon  thea  Be  patient  in  the  age  of  pride, 
and  days  of  will,  and  impatiency,  when  men  live  but  by 
intervals  of  reason,  under  the  sovereignty  of  humour  and 
passion,  when  it  is  in  the  power  of  every  one  to  trans- 
form thee  out  of  thyself,  and  put  thee  into  short  mad- 
ness.* If  you  cannot  imitate  Job,  yet  come  not  short  of 
Socrates,^*  and  those  patient  Pagans,  who  tired  the 
*  Irae  furor  brevis  est. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  1S7 

tongues  of  their  enemies,  while  they  perceived  they 
spit  their  malice  at  brazen  walls  and  statues. 

Let  age,  not  envy,  draw  wrinkles  on  thy  cheeks  ;  be 
content  to  be  enAned,  but  envy  not.  Emulation  may  be 
plausible,  and  indignation  allowable,  but  admit  no  treaty 
with  that  passion  which  no  circumst;mce  can  make 
good.  A  displacency  at  the  good  of  others,  because 
they  enjoy  it  although  we  do  not  want  it,  is  an  absurd 
depravity  sticking  fast  unto  nature,  from  its  primitive 
comiption,  which  he  that  can  well  subdue  were  a 
Christian  of  the  tirst  magnitude,  and  for  ought  I  know 
may  have  one  foot  already  in  heaven. 

Wliile  thou  so  hotly  disclaimest  the  devil,  be  not 
guilty  of  Diabolism.  Fall  not  into  one  name  •with  that 
uncle^in  spirit,  nor  act  his  nature  whom  thou  so  much 
abhorrest,  that  is,  to  accuse,  calumniate,  backbite, 
whisper,  detract,  or  sinistrously  interpret  others.  Degen- 
t-rous  depravities  and  narrow-minded  vices !  not  only 
below  St  Paul's  noble  Christian,  but  Aristotle's  true  gen- 
tleman.* Trust  not  with  some  that  the  Epistle  of  St 
James  is  apocryyjhal,  and  so  read  wth  less  fear  that 
stabbing  truth  that  in  company  with  this  vice,  "thy 
religion  is  in  vain."  Moses  broke  the  tables  without 
breaking  the  law,  but  where  charity  is  broke  the  law 
itself  is  shattered,  which  cannot  be  whole  wthout  love 
that  is  "the  fultilling  of  it."  Look  humbly  upon  thy 
virtues,  and  th(jugh  thou  art  rich  in  some,  yet  think 
thyself  poor  and  naked  \vithout  that  crowning  grace 
which  "tliinketh  no  evil,  which  envieth  not,  which 
iK-areth,  l>elieveth,  hopcth,  endureth  all  things.' 
With  these  sure  graces  while  busy  tongues  are  crjing 
out  for  a  drop  of  cold  water,  mutes  maylHi  in  happi- 
ness, and  sing  the  "Trisagium,"t  in  heaven. 

•  Sec  Arintotle's  Ethics,  chapter  Magnaniinity. 
t  Holy,  holy,  holy. 


1 88  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

Let  not  the  sun  in  Capricorn  *  go  do-wn  'upon  tliy 
•wrrath,  "but  write  thy  wrongs  in  water,  draw  the  curtain 
of  night  upon  injuries,  shut  them  up  in  the  tower  of 
oblivion,t  and  let  them  be  as  though  they  had  not  been. 
Forgive  thine  enemies  totally,  without  any  reserve  of 
hope  that  however  God  will  revenge  thee 

Be  substantially  great  in  thyself,  and  more  than  thou 
appearest  unto  others  ;  and  let  the  world  be  deceived 
in  thee,  as  they  are  in  the  lights  of  heaven.  Hang  early 
plummets  upon  the  heels  of  pride,  and  let  ambition 
have  but  an  epicycleis  or  narrow  circuit  in  thee. 
Measure  not  thyseK  by  thy  morning  shadow,  but  by 
the  extent  of  thy  grave ;  and  reckon  thyself  above 
the  earth,  by  the  line  thou  must  be  contented  with 
under  it.  Spread  not  into  boundless  expansions  either 
to  designs  or  desires.  Think  not  that  mankind  liveth 
but  for  a  few  ;  and  that  the  rest  are  bom  but  to  serve 
the  ambition  of  those  who  make  but  flies  of  men,  and 
wildernesses  of  whole  nations.  Swell  not  into  vehement 
actions,  which  embroQ  and  confound  the  earth,  but  be 
one  of  those  violent  ones  that  force  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.+  If  thou  must  needs  rule,  be  Zeno's  king,  and 
enjoy  that  empire  which  every  man  gives  himself: 
certainly  the  iterated  injunctions  of  Christ  unto  humility, 
meekness,  patience,  and  that  despised  train  of  virtues, 
cannot  but  make  pathetical  impression  upon  those 
who  have  well  considered  the  aflfairs  of  all  ages  ; 
wherein    pride,   ambition,   and    vain-glory,  have    led 

*  Even  when  the  days  are  shortest. 

■{■Alluding  to  the  tower  of  oblivion  mentioned  by  Pro- 
copius,  which  was  the  name  of  a  tower  of  imprisonment  among 
the  Persians  ;  whoever  was  put  therein  was  as  it  were  buried 
alive,  and  it  was  death  for  any  but  to  name  him. 

+  St  Matt.  xi. 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND.  1S9 

up  to  the  worst  of  actions,  whereiinto  confusions, 
tragedies,  and  acts,  denying  all  religion,  do  owe  their 
originals. 

Rest  not  in  an  ovation,*  but  a  triumph  over  thy 
passions.  Chain  up  the  unruly  legion  of  thy  breast ; 
behold  thy  trophies  ^vithin  thee,  not  without  thee. 
Lead  thine  own  captivity  captive,  and  be  Caesar  unto 
thyselL 

Give  no  quarter  imto  those  vices  that  are  of  thine 
inward  family,  and,  having  a  root  in  thy  temper,  plead 
a  right  and  propriety  in  thee.  Examine  well  thy  com- 
plexional  inclinations.  Rain  early  batteries  against 
those  strongholds  built  upon  the  rock  of  nature,  and 
make  this  a  great  part  of  the  militia  of  thy  life.  The 
politic  natiire  of  vice  must  be  opposed  by  policy,  and 
therefore  wiser  honesties  project  and  plot  against  sin ; 
wherein  notwithstanding  we  are  not  to  rest  in  generals, 
or  the  trite  stratagems  of  art ;  that  may  succeed  with 
one  temper,  which  may  prove  successless  with  another. 
There  is  no  community  or  commonwealth  of  virtue, 
every  man  must  study  his  own  economy  and  erect 
these  rules  imto  the  figure  of  himself. 

Lastly,  if  length  of  days  be  thy  portion,  make  it  not 
thy  expectation.  Reckon  not  upon  long  life  ;  but  live 
always  beyond  thy  account.  He  that  so  often  sur- 
viveth  his  expectation  lives  many  Uves,  and  will  scarce 
complain  of  the  shortness  of  his  days.  Time  past  is 
gone  like  a  shadow  ;  make  times  to  come  present ;  con- 
ceive that  near  which  may  be  far  off.  Appro.vimate 
thy  latter  times  by  present  apprehensions  of  them  :  be 
like  a  neighbour  unto  death,  and  think  there  is  but 
little  to  come.  And  since  there  is  something  in  us  tliat 
must  still  live  on,  join  both  lives  together,  unite  them 
•  Ovation,  a  petty  and  minor  kind  of  triumph. 


igo 


LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 


in  thy  tliouglits  and  actions,  and  live  in.  one  but  for  the 
other.  He  who  thus  ordereth  the  purposes  of  this  life, 
will  never  be  far  from  the  next,  and  is  ia  some  manner 
already  in  it,  by  a  happy  conformity  and  close  appre- 
hension of  it. 


NOTES  TO  THE  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 


10. 

n. 

12. 

13. 

14. 
15. 
11, 


It  was  a  proTerb,  "  Ubi  tres  medici  duo  athei.'" 

A  LatinisL-d  word  meaning  a  taunt  (impropero.) 

The  synod  of  Dort  was  held  in  1619  to  discuss  the  doctrines  of 
Arminius.     It  ended  by  condemning  them. 

Uallam,  commenting  on  this  passage,  says — "  That  Jesuit  must  be  a 
disgrace  to  his  order  who  would  have  asked  more  than  such  a  con- 
cession to  secure  a  proselyte — the  right  of  interi)retiug  whatever 
was  written,  and  of  supplying  whatever  was  not." — Hiit.  Eno- 
land,  Tol.  ii.  p.  74. 

See  the  statute  of  the  Six  Articles  (31  Hen.  VIII.  c.  14),  which  de- 
clared that  transubstantiation,  communion  in  one  kind,  celibacy 
of  the  clergy,  vows  of  widowhood,  private  masses,  and  auricular 
confession,  were  nart  of  the  law  of  England. 

In  the  year  1606,  when  the  Jesuits  were  expelled  from  Venice,  Pope 
Paul  V.  threatened  to  excommunicate  that  republic.  A  most 
Tiolent  quarrel  ensued,  which  was  ultimately  settled  by  the  media- 
tion of  France. 

Alluding  to  the  story  of  CEdipus  solving  the  riddle  proposed  by  the 
Sphynx. 

The  nymph  Arethu.sa  was  changed  by  Diana  into  a  fountain,  and 
was  said  to  have  (lowed  under  the  sea  from  Elis  tu  the  fountain  of 
Arethusa  near  .Syracuse. — Ov.  Met.  lib.  v.  fab.  8. 

These  herctici  denied  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  but  held  that  it 
was  recalled  to  life  with  the  body.  Origen  came  from  Epyi)t  to 
confute  them,  and  Lt  said  to  have  succeeded.  See  Mosh.  Kixi. 
nut.,  lib.  I.  c.  6.  sec.  16.)  Pope  John  XXII.  afterwards 
a<lMpt4.'d  it. 

A  divLtion  from  the  Qreek  Sixoro/ua. 

The  brain. 

A  faint  resemblance,  flrom  the  Latin  ailtmtrro,  to  shade. 

Alluding  to  the  idea  t<ir  T.  Ilrowne  often  expresseti,  that  an  oracle 

was  the  utterance  of  the  devil. 
To  fathom,  (rom  Ijitin  jrrofundut. 
Ik-ginning  from  the  Latin  ejficiQ. 
(JaJeu'a  great  work. 


192        NOTES  TO  THE  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

17.  John  de  Monte  Regio  made  a  wooden  eagle  that,  when  the  emperor 

was  entering  Nuremburg,  flew  to  meet  him,  and  hovered  over  his 
head.  He  also  made  an  iron  fly  that,  when  at  dinner,  he  was 
able  to  make  start  from  under  his  hand,  and  fly  round  the  table, 
— See  De  Bartas,  6me  jour  Ime  semaine. 

18.  Hidden,  from  the  Greek  KpvirTW. 

19.  A  military  term  for  a  small  mine. 

20.  The  Armada. 

21.  The  practice  of  drawing  lots. 

22.  An  account. 

23.  See  II.  VIII.  18— 

"  Let  down  our  golden  everlasting  chain, 
Whose  strong  embrace  holds  heaven,  and  earth,  and  main." 

—Pope,  II.  viii.  26. 

24.  An  argument  where  one  proposition  is  accumulated  upon  another, 

from  the  Greek  awpeirris,  a  heap. 

25.  Alluding  to  the  second  triumvirate — that  of  Augustus,  Antony,  and 

Lepidus.  Florus  says  of  it,  "Respublica  convulsa  est  lacerata- 
que." 

26.  Ochinus.    He  was  first  a  monk,  then  a  doctor,  then  a  Capuchin  friar, 

then  a  Protestant :  in  1647  he  came  to  England,  and  was  very 
active  in  the  Reformation.  He  was  afterwards  made  Canon  of 
Canterbury.     The  Socinians  claim  him  as  one  of  their  sect. 

27.  The  father  of  Pantagruel.    His  adventures  are  given  in  the  first  book 

of  Rabelais,  Sir  Bevys  of  Hampton,  a  metrical  romance,  relating 
the  adventures  of  Sir  Bevys  with  the  Saracens. — Wright  and 
Halliwell's  Rdiquioe  Antiquce,  ii.  59. 

28.  Contradictions  between  two  laws. 

29.  On  his  arrival  at  Paris,  Pantagruel  visited  the  library  of  St  Victor : 

he  states  a  list  of  the  works  he  found  there,  among  which  was 
"  Tartaretus."  Pierre  Tartaret  was  a  French  doctor  who  disputed 
with  Duns  Scotus.    His  works  were  republished  at  Lyons,  1621. 

30.  Deucalion  was  king  of  Thessaly  at  the  time  of  the  deluge.     He  and 

his  wife  Pyrrha,  with  the  advice  of  the  oracle  of  Themis,  repeopled 
the  earth  by  throwing  behind  them  the  bones  of  their  grand- 
mother,—  i.e.,  stones  of  the  earth.  —  See  Ovid.  Met.  lib.  i. 
fab.  7. 

31.  St  Augustine  (De  Civ.  Dei,  xvi.  7). 

32.  airriy^aTO  (St  Matt,  xxvii.  5)  means  death  by  choking.     Erasmus 

translates  it,  "  abiens  laqueo  se  suspendit." 

33.  Burnt  by  order  of  the  Caliph  Omar,  A.D.  640.     It  contained  700,000 

volumes,  which  served  the  city  for  fuel  instead  of  wood  for  six 
months. 

34.  Enoch  being  informed  by  Adam  the  world  was  to  be  drowned  and 

burnt,  made  two  pillars,  one  of  stone  to  withstand  the  water,  and 
one  of  brick  to  withstand  the  fire,  and  inscribed  upon  them  all 
known  knowledge. — See  Josephus,  Ant.  Jud. 

35.  A  Franciscan  friar,  counsellor  to  the  Inquisition,  who  visited  tne 

principal  libraries  in  Spain  to  make  a  catalogue  of  the  books  op- 
posed to  the  Romish  religion.  His  "Index  novus  librorum  pro- 
hibitorum"  was  published  at  Seville  in  1631. 

36.  Printing,  gunpowder,  clocks. 

37.  The  Targums  and  the  various  Talmuds. 


NOT£S  TO  THE  RELIGJO  MEDICI.         193 

r'.S.  Pa^Ds,  Mahometans.  Jews,  Christians. 

39.  Talour.  and  death  in  battle. 
¥i.  }Ield  1414-141S. 

•41.  Verpilius.  bishop  of  Salzburg,  h.iTinp  asserted  the  existence  of 
Antipodes,  the  Ai-chbisliop  of  Metz  declared  him  to  be  a  heretic, 
and  caused  him  to  be  burnt. 

4-.  On  searching  on  Mount  Calvary  for  the  true  cross,  the  empress 
found  three.  As  she  was  uncertain  whicli  was  the  right  one,  she 
caused  them  to  be  applied  to  the  body  of  a  dead  man,  and  the 
one  that  restored  him  to  life  was  determined  to  be  the  true  cross. 

43.  The  critical  time  in  human  life. 

44.  Oracles  were  said  to  have  cea.sed  when  Christ  came,  the  reply  to 

Augustus  on  the  subject  being  the  last — 

"  Me  puer  Ilebraius  divos  Deus  ipse  gubernans 
Cedere  sede  jubet  tristemque  redire  sub  Orcum 
Aris  ergo  de  hinc  tacitus  discedito  nostris." 

40.  An  historian  who  wrote  "De  Rebus  Indicis."     lie  is  cited  by  Pliny, 

Strabo,  and  Josephus. 

46.  Alluding  to  the  popular  superstition  that  infant  children  were  carried 

off  by  fairies,  and  others  left  in  their  places. 

47.  Who  is  said  to  have  lived  without  meat,  on  the  smell  of  a  rose. 

48.  "Essentia;  rationalis  immortalis." 

49.  St  Augustine,  De  Civ.  Dei.  lib.  x.,  cc.  9,  19,  32. 

50.  That  which  includes  everything  is  opposed  to  nullity. 

61.  An  inversion  of  the  parts  of  an  antithesis. 

62.  St  Au,{ustine — "  Homily  on  (jenesis." 

53.  Sir  T.   Browne  wrote  a  dialogue  between  two  twins  in  the  womb 

respecting  the  world  into  which  they  were  going  1 
M.  Refinement. 
66.  Constitution  another  form  of  temperament. 

66.  The  Jewish  computation  for  fifty  years. 

67.  Saturn  revolves  once  in  thirty  years. 

68.  Christian  IV.  of  Denmark,  who  reigned  from  1588-1647. 

69.  S^on  wa.s  the  father  of  Jason.    Ey  Ijathing  in  a  bath  prepared  for  him 

by  .Me<la.-a  with  some  magic  spells,  hebecame  young  again.     Ovid 

describes  the  bath  and  its  ingredients,  Mtt.,  lib.  vii.  fab.  '1. 
60.  Alluding  to  the  rabbinical  tradition  that  the  world  would  last  for 

6000  years,  attributed  to  Ellas,  and  cited  in  the  Talmud. 
6'-.  Zeno  was  the  founder  of  the  Stoics. 
VI.  Referring  to  a  passage  in   Suetonlu.s,   Tit.   J     Cajsar,   sec    87  :— 

"  AspiTnatus  tam  lentum  mortis  grnus  subitam  sibi  celeremque 

optaverat." 

63.  In  holding 

"  .Mors  ultima  poena  est, 
Nee  metaenda  viris." 

64.  The  period  when  the  moon  is  in  conjunction  and  obscured  by  the 

■un. 
fl5.  One  of  the  Jiidgen  of  helL 
M.  To  Kclrct  Home  great  man  for  our  Ideal,  and  always  to  act  as  if  be 

was  present  with  ui.     See  Seneca,  lib.  1.  Ep.  11, 
C7.  Sir  T.    Browne  leeroa  to  have   made  v:irioiiH  experlmentH  In  this 


194         NOTES  TO  THE  RELIGIO  MEDICI. 

suhject.  D'Israeli  refers  to  it  in  his  "Curiosities  of  Literature." 
Kr  Power,  a  friend  of  Sir  T.  Browne,  with  whom  he  corresponded, 
gives  a  receipt  for  the  process. 

68.  The  celebrated  Greek  philosopher  who  taught  that  the  sun  was  a 

mass  of  heated  stone,  and  various  other  astronomical  doctrines. 
Some  critics  say  Anaxarchus  is  meant  here. 

69.  See  Milton's  "  Paradise  Lost,"  lib.  i.  254— 

"  The  mind  is  its  own  place,  and  in  itself 
Can  make  a  heaven  of  hell,  a  hell  of  heaven." 

And  also  Lucretius — 

"  Hie  Acherusia  fit  stultorum  denique  vita." — iii.  1023. 

70.  Keck  says  here — "So  did  they  all,  as  Lactantius  has  observed  at 

large.  Aristotle  is  said  to  have  been  guilty  of  great  vanity  in 
his  clothes,  of  iucontinency,  and  of  unfaithfulness  to  his  master, 
Alexander  II." 

71.  Phalaris,  king  of  Agrigentum,  who,  when  Perillus  made  a  brazen 

bull  in  which  to  kill  criminals,  placed  him  in  it  to  try  its  effects. 

72.  Their  maxim  was 

"  Nihil  sciri  siquis  putat  id  quoque  nescit, 
An  sciri  possit  quod  se  nil  scii'e  fatetur." 

73.  Pope  Alexander  III.,  in  his  declaration  to  the  Doge,  said,—"  Que 

la  mer  vous  soit  soumise  comme  I'epouse  Test  \  son  epoux 
puisque  vous  in  avez  acquis  I'empire  par  la  victorie."  In  com- 
memoration of  this  the  Doge  and  Senate  went  yearly  to  Lio,  and 
throwing  a  ring  into  the  water,  claimed  the  sea  as  their  bride. 

74.  Appolonius  Thyaneus,  who  threw  a  large  quantity  of  gold  into  the 

sea,  saying,  "  Pessundo  divitias  ne  pessundare  ab  illis." 

75.  Tbe  technical  term  in  fencing  for  a  hit — 

"  A  sweet  touch,  a  quick  venew  of  wit." 

Love's  Labour  Lost,  act  v.  sc.  1. 

76.  Strabo  compared  the  configuration  of  the  world,  as  then  known,  to 

a  cloak  or  mantle  (chalmys). 

77.  Atomistsorfamilists  were  a  Puritanical  sect  who  appeared  about  1576, 

founded  by  Henry  Nicholas,  a  Dutchman.  They  considered  that 
the  doctrine  of  revelation  was  an  allegory,  and  believed  that 
<hey  had  attained  to  spiritual  perftction. — Sjb  Neal's  Hist,  of 
Puritans,  i.  273. 

78.  From  the  126th  psalm   St   Augustine  contends   that   Solomon  is 

damned.     See  also  Lyra  in  2  Kings  vii. 

79.  From  the  Spanish  "Dorado,"  a  gilt  head. 

80.  Sir  T.  Browne  treats  of  chiromancy,  or  the  art  of  telling  fortunes  by 

means  of  lines  in  the  hands,  in  his  "Vulgar  Errors,"  lib.  v. 
cap.  23. 

81.  Gypsies. 

82.  S.  Wilkin  says  that  here  this  word  means  niggardly. 

!>3.  In  the  dialogue,  "judicium  vocalium,"  the  vowels  are  the  judges, 
and  S  complains  that  T  has  deprived  him  of  many  letters  that 
ought  to  begin  with  S. 

84.  If  Jovis  or  Jupitris. 

35.  The  celebrated  Roman  grammarian.  A  proverbial  phrase  for  the 
violation  of  grammar  was  "  Breaking  Priscian's  head." 


NOTES  TO  HVDRIOTAPHIA.  195 

H6.   Livj  saf3,  Actius  Nevius  cut  a  whetstone  through  \ritb  a  razor. 
ST.   A  kiad  of  lizard  that  was  supposed  to  kill  all  it  looked  at — 

"Whose  baneful  eye 
Wounds  at  a  glance,  so  that  the  soundest  dye." 

— Dt  Bartas,  6uie  jour  Imc  sem. 
M.  Epimenidea  (Titus  x.  12)— 

"  KpTJTes  del  ^edcFTai  KaKO.  Orjpid  yacrr^pes  apyal." 

89.  Nero  haring  heard  a  person  say,  "When  I  am  dead,  let  earth  be 

mingled  with  fire,"  replied,  "Yea,  while  I  live." — Suetonius, 
Vit.  Nero. 

90.  Alluding  to  the  story  of  the  Italian,  who,  having  been  provoked  by 

a  person  he  met,  put  a  poniurd  to  his  heart,  and  threatened  to 
kill  him  if  he  would  not  blaspheme  God;  and  the  stranger  doing 
so,  the  Italian  killed  him  at  once,  that  he  might  be  damned,  hav- 
ing no  time  to  repent. 

91.  A  rapier  or  small  sword. 

1*3.  The  battle  here  referred  to  was  the  one  between  Don  John  of 
Austria  and  the  Turkish  fleet,  near  Lepanto,  in  1571.  The  battle 
of  Lepanto  (that  is,  the  capture  of  the  town  by  the  Turks)  did  not 
take  place  till  ir.TS. 

93.  Several  authors  say  that  Aristotle  died  of  grief  because  he  could 
not  find  out  the  reason  for  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide  in  Epirus. 

M.  Who  deny  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  science. 

95.  A  motto  on  a  ring  or  cup  In  an  old  will,  1655,  there  is  this 
passage  :  "  I  give  a  cup  of  silver  gilt  to  have  this  posy  written  ia 
the  margin : — 

"  When  the  drink  is  out,  and  the  bottom  you  may  see, 
Remember  your  brother  I.  O." 

06.  The  opposition  of  a  contrary  quality,  by  which  the  quality  it  opposes 
becomes  heightened. 

97.  Adam  as  he  was  created  and  not  born. 

98.  Meaning  a  world,  as  Atlas  supported  the  world  on  his  shoulders. 
09.  Merriment.     Johnson  says  that  this  is  the  only  place  where  the 

word  is  found. 
100.  Said  to  be  a  cure  for  madness. 
1(>1.  Patched  garments. 
102.  A  game.     A  kind  of  capping  verses,  in  which,  if  any  one  repeated 

what  liad  been  said  before,  he  paid  a  forfeit. 


NOTES  TO  HYDKIOTAPHIA. 

1.  Just. 

'i.  Destruction. 

3  K  chemical  vessel  made  of  earth,  ashes,  or  burnt  bone.^,  and  in 
which  a»sav-masters  try  their  metals.  It  sufTers  all  baser  one.t 
when  fused  and  mixed  with  lead  to  pass  off,  and  retains  oaly 
gold  aod  silver. 


196        NOTES  TO  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

4.  This  substance  known  to  French  chemists  by  the  name  "  adipo-cire," 

was  first  discovered  by  Sir  Xhomas  Browne. 

5.  From  its  thickness. 

6.  Euripides. 

7.  Greek,  Latin,  Hebrew,  Egyptian,  Arabic  defaced  by  the  Emperor 

Licinius. 


NOTES  TO  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND. 

1.  Will  not  survive  until  next  spring, 

2.  Wasting. 

3.  An  eminent  Italian  Physician,  lecturer  in  the  University  of  Pavia, 

died  1576.     He  was  a  most  voluminous  medical  writer. 

4.  An  eminent  doctor  and  scholar  who  passed  his  time  at  Venice  and 
Padua  studying  and  practising  medicine,  died  1558. 

5.  Charles  V.  was  born  24th  Februaiy,  1500. 

6.  Francis  I.  of  France  was  taken  prisoner  at  the  battle  of  Pavia,  24th 

February,  1525. 

7.  One  of  the  greatest  Protestant  generals  of  the  seventeenth  centuiT. 

He  died  at  Zara,  1626. 

8.  An  inflation,  or  swelling,  from  the  French  bouff^e. 

9.  August  29th,  1526.     He  was  defeated  by  Solymanll.,  and  suffocated 

in  a  brook,  by  a  fall  from  his  horse,  during  the  retreat. 

10.  The  caul. 

11.  Money-seeking. 

12.  Cacus  stole  some  of  Hercules'  oxen,  and  drew  them  into  his  cave 

backward  to  prevent  any  traces  being  discovered.     Ovid  Fast,  1. 
554. 

13.  Narrow,  like  walking  on  a  rope. 

14.  A  Greek  philosophical  writer.     This  T\iva%  is  a  representation  of  a 

table  where  the  whole  human  life  with  its  dangers  and  temptations 
is  symbolically  represented, 

15.  Picture. 

16.  The  course  taken  by  the  Spanish  Treasure  ships.  See  Anson  Voyages. 

17.  A  recommencement. 

"  Dulcique  senex  vicinus  Hymetto 
Qui  partem  acceptas  sava  inter  vincla  cicutae 
Accusatori  nollet  dare," — Juv.  Sat.  xiii.  185. 

19.  A  small  revolution  made  by  one  planet  in  the  orbit  of  another. 


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short,  and  all  too  few,  which,  whether  for  thought  or  for  expression,  have 
rarely  been  excelled  by  any  writer  in  any  language." — Mary  Russell 
Mitford's  Recollections. 

ABDALLAH   AND   THE  FOUR-LEAVED   SHAMROCK. 

By  Edouard  Laboullaye,  of  the  French  Academy.    Translated  by  Mary 
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List  of  PuhUcations. 


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*,*  It  was  in  tcorking  on  this  volume  that  Mr.  Morlry  discovered  the 
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larged Edition. 

•■  Should  be  on  erery  library  table,  by  the  side  of '  Iloget's  Theaminis.' ' 
— Duily  News.  "  Almaxt  eviry  /(imiliiir  quotation  is  to  be  found  in  this 
uurk,  ichich  forms  a  book  of  reference  absolutely  indispensable  to  the  lite- 
rury  man,  and  of  interest  and  serx-tce  to  the p^tblic generally .  Mr.  Friswell 
has  our  best  thimks  for  his  painstaking,  laborious,  and  conscientious 
vcork." — City  Press. 

V. 

ESSAYS  BY  MONTAIGNE.  Edited, Compared,  Revised, and 
Annotated  by  the  Author  of  "  The  Gentle  Life."  With  Vignette  Portrait. 
Second  Edition. 

"  TO  should  be  glad  if  any  words  of  ours  could  help  to  bespeak  a  large 
circulation  for  this  handsome  attractive  book  ;  and  leho  cati  refuse  his 
homage  to  the  goixl -humoured  industry  of  the  editor." — Illustrated  Times. 
"  The  reader  really  gets  in  a  compact  form  all  of  the  charming,  chatty 
Montaigne  th/it  he  needs  to  know." — Observer.  "  I'his  edition  is  pure  of 
questiumihle  matter,  and  its  periusal  is  calculated  to  enrich  without  cor- 
rupting the  mind  of  t lie  reader." — Daily  News. 

VI. 
THE  COUNTESS  OF  PEMBROKE'S  ARCADIA.     Written 
by  Sir  Philip  Sidney.     Edited, with  .Notes. by  the  .Author  of'The  Gentle 
Life."     Dedicated,  by  permission,  to  the  Earl  of  Derby.     Ts.  6d. 

"  All  the  best  things  in  the  Arcadia  are  retained  intact  in  Mr.  Fri.<ncell's 
edition,  and  even  lirought  into preater  prominence  than  in  the  original,  by 
the  curtailment  of  some  of  its  inferior  portions,  and  the  omi.tsion  of  most  of 
its  eclogues  and  other  metrical  digressions  " — Examiner.  "  It  was  in  itself 
a  thing  so  interesting  as  a  derelopment  of  English  literature,  that  we  are 
th/inkfal  to  .Mr.  triswell  for  reproducing,  in  a  very  elegant  volume,  the 
chief  work  of  the  gallant  and  chivalrous,  the  gay  yet  learned  kniqht,  who 
patronized  the  muse  of  Spen.ier,  and  fell  upon  tke  bloody  field  of  iCutphen, 
tearing  behind  him  a  light  of  heroism  and  humane  compassion  which  uimld 
thed  an  eternal  glory  on  his  name,  tliough  all  lie  ever  wrote  liad  perished 
with  himself." — Loudon  Review. 

VII. 
THE  GENTLE  LIFE.     Second  Series.     Tliird  Edition. 

"  There  is   the   fame  mingled  power  and  simplicity  which  makes  the 

'author  so  emphiiticiilly  a  first-rate  essayist,  giving  a  fascination  in  each 

essay  which  will  malie  this  volume  at  least  as  po/mlar  as  its  elder  brother." 

— Ktar.     "  These  ettayi  are  amongst  the  best  in  our  language." — Public 

Opinion. 

VIII. 

VAUIA  :  Rp&din^s  from  Rare  Books.  Reprinted,  by  permis- 
sion, from  the  Saturday  ]{-Tieu\  Spectator,  &c. 

"  TTie  books  discussed  in  this  volume  are  no  less  valuable  than  they  are 
rare,  but  life  is  not  long  enough  to  allow  a  reader  to  leade  through  such 
thick  foliof,  and  therefore  the  cimipiler  is  entitled  to  the  gratitude  of  the 
puhlir  for  having  sfleii  their  contents,  and  thereby  rendered  their  treaturet 
avaU'Uile  to  the  general  reader." — Observer. 


8  Sampson  Low  and  Co^s. 

IX. 
A  CONCORDANCE  OR  VERBAL  INDEX  to  the  whole  of 

Milton's  Poetical  Works.     Comprising  upwards  of  20,000  References. 
By  Charles  D.  Cleveland,  LL.D.     With  Vignette  Portrait  of  Milton. 

•»*  This  work  affords  an  immediate  reference  to  any  passage  in  any 
edition  of  Milton's  Poems,  to  which  it  may  be  justly  termed  an  indis- 
pensable Appendix. 

"  Sy  the  admirers  of  Milton  the  book  tvill  be  highly  appreciated,  but  its 
chief  value  luill,  if  we  mistake  not,  befuund  in  the  fact  that  it  is  a  compact 
word-book  of  the  English  language." — Record.  "  An  invaluable  Index, 
which  the  publishers  have  done  a  public  service  in  reprinting." — Notes  and 
Queries. 

X. 

THE    SILENT  HOUR :  Essays,  Original  and   Selected.     By 

the  Author  of  "  The  Gentle  Life."     Second  Edition. 

"  Out  of  twenty  Essays  five  are  from  the  Editor's  pen,  and  he  has  se- 
lected the  rest  from  the  writings  of  £arrow,  Baxter,  Sherlock,  Massillon, 
Latimer,  Sandys,  Jeremy  Taylor,  Buskin,  and  Izaac  Walton.  The  se- 
lections  have  been  made  with  taste  and  judgment,  and  the  Editor's  own 
contributions  are  not  unworthy  in  themselves  of  a  place  in  such  dis- 
tinguished company.  The  volume  is  avowedly  ?neant  'for  Sunday  reading, 
and  those  loho  have  not  access  to  the  originals  of  great  authors  may  do 
worse  on  Sunday  or  any  other  afternoon,  than  fall  back  upon  the  '  Silent 
Hour'  and  the  golden  words  of  Jeremy  Taylor  and  Massillon.  All  ivho 
possess  the  '  Gentle  Life'  should  own  this  volume." — Standard. 

XI. 

ESSAYS  ON  ENGLISH   WRITERS,  for  the  Self-improve- 
ment of  Students  in  English  Literature. 

"  The  author  has  a  distinct  purpose  and  a  proper  and  noble  ambition  to 
w%n  the  young  to  the  pure  and  noble  study  of  our  glorious  English  literature. 
The  book  is  too  good  intrinsically  not  to  command  a  wide  and  increasing 
circulation,  and  its  style  is  so  pleasant  and  lively  that  it  will  find  many 
readers  among  the  educated  classes,  as  well  as  among  self-helpers.  To  all 
(both  men  and  women)  2cho  have  neglected  to  read  and  study  their  native 
literature  we  would  certainly  suggest  the  volume  before  us  as  a  fitting  in- 
troduction."— Examiner. 

XII. 

OTHER    PEOPLE'S    WINDOWS.      By   J.  Hain  FrisweU. 

Second  Edition. 

"  The  old  project  of  a  ivindow  in  the  bosom  to  render  the  soul  of  man 
visible,  is  what  every  honest  fellow  has  a  manifold  reason  to  wish 
/or."— Pope's  Letters,  Dec.  12,  1718. 

"  The  chapters  are  so  lively  in  themselves,  so  mingled  with  shretvd  views 
of  human  nature,  so  full  of  illustrative  anecdotes,  that  the  reader  cannot 
fail  to  be  am%ised.  Written  with  remarkable  power  and  effect.  '  Other 
People's  Windows '  is  distinguished  by  original  and  keen  observation  of 
life,  as  well  as  by  lively  and  versatile  power  of  narration." — Morning  Post. 
"  We  have  not  read  a  cleverer  or  more  entertaining  book  for  a.  long  time." 
Observer.  "  Some  of  the  little  stories  are  very  graceful  and  tender,  but 
Mr.  Frisivell's  style  is  always  bright  and  pleasant,  and  '  Other  People's 
Windows '  is  just  the  book  to  lie  upon  the  drawing-room  table,  and  be  read 
by  snatches  at  idle  moments." — Guardian. 


List  of  Publicatioiis. 


LITERATURE,  WORKS  OF   REFERENCE,  ETC. 

HE  Urij^in  and  History  of  the  English  Language,  and 

of  the  early  liti-nitiire  it  embrHlies.  by  the  IIou.  Ui-orge  P. 
Marsh,  U.  S.  Minister  at  Turin,  Author  of  "  Lectures  oa  the 
Kuglish  Language."    8vo.  cloth  extra,  Ids. 

Lectures  on  the  English  Language;  forming  the  Introductory 
Series  to  the  foregoing  Work.  By  the  same  Author.  8vo.  Cloth,  16i. 
This  is  the  only  author's  edition. 

Man  and  Nature ;  or.  Physical  Geography  as  Modified  by  Human 
Action.  By  tieorge  P.  Miii-sh,  Author  of  "  Lectures  on  the  English  Lan- 
guage," ic.     8vo.  cloth,  14s. 

"  .Ur.  Marsh,  n-elt  knoirn  nx  the  author  of  two  of  the  most  scholarly 
works  t/it  piMifhed  on  the  English  language,  sets  himself  in  excellent 
spirit,  and  with  immense  learning,  to  indirate  the  chiirncter,  and,  iipprori- 
mately,  tfie  extent  of  the  chiinges  produced  by  human  action  in  the  physical 
conilitton  of  the  globe  we  inhibit.  The  whole  of  Mr.  Marsh's  book  is  an 
eloquent  showini)  of  the  duly  of  care  in  the  establishment  of  harmony 
between  m/in's  life  aiul  the  forces  of  nature,  so  0.1  to  bring  to  their  highest 
points  the  fertility  of  the  soil,  the  vigour  of  the  animai  life,  and  the  salubrity 
of  the  climate,  on  iiliirh  we  have  to  depend  for  the  physical  well-being  of 
mankind." — Examiner. 

Her  Majesty's  Mails:  a  History  of  the  Post  Office,  and  an 
Industrial  Account  of  its  Present  Condition.  By  Wm.  Lewins,  of  the 
General  Post  Office.  '2nA  Edition,  revised  and  enlarged,  with  a  Photo- 
graphic Portrait  of  Sir  Ilowland  Hill.     Small  post  Svo.  6s. 

A  HisUiry  of  Banks  for  Savings  ;  including  a  full  account  of  the 

origin  and  progress  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  rei-ent  prudential  measures.  By 
William  Lewins,  Author  of"  Her  Majesty's  Mails."     Svo.  cloth.     12s. 

The  Engli.-»h  Catalogue  of  Bookd :  giving  the  date  of  publication 
of  every  book  published  from  18:5.5  to  186:?,  in  addition  to  tfie  title,  size, 
price,  and  publisher,  in  one  ulphahet.     An  entirely  new  wrak,  combining 
the  Copyrights  of  the  "  London  Catalogue"  and  the  "  British  Catalogue. 
One  thick  volume  of  9<J(i  pages,  half  morocco,  ihs. 

*,*  The  Annual  Catalogue  ot  Books  published  during  18CS  with  Index 
of  Subjects,     8vo.     5». 

Index  to  the  Subjects  of  BcMiks  published  in  the  United  Kingdom 

during  the  lant  'rwenty  Vears — ISIiT-lS.")?.  Coiituining  as  many  as  7-1,000 
referencen,  under  »ubje«'l«,  so  as  to  ensure  inimedinte  reference  to  the 
iKjoks  on  the  subject  required,  each  giving  title,  price,  jmblisher,  and 
date.  Two  valuable  Ap|>endice»  are  also  given — A,  containing  full  lists 
of  all  Libraries,  Collections,  Heries,  and  Miscellanies — and  li,  a  List  of 
Literary  HfH-jeties,  Printing  Societies,  and  their  Issues.  One  vol.  royal 
8vo.      Morocco,  1/.  ft». 

•,•  Volume  II.  from  18.17  in  Preparation, 

Outlines  of  Moral  Piiilosophy,  By  DiigaM  Stewart.  Professor 
rjf  .Moral  PbiloMiphy  in  the  I'niversity  of  Kiliiiburgli.  with  Memoir,  &c, 
\iy  James  McC'osh,  LL,U.     New  Edition,  Vimo.  'ia.  lid. 


10  Sampson  Low  and  Co.^s 

A  Dictionary  of  Photography,  on  the  Basis  of  Sutton's  Dictionary. 

Rewritten  by  Professor  Dawson,  of  King's  College,  Editor  of  the  "  Journal 
of  Photography;"  and  Thomas  Suttoa,  B.A.,  Editor  of  "  Photogi-aph 
Notes."     8vo.  with  numerous  Illustrations.     8s.  6d. 

Dr.  Worcester's  New  and  Greatly  Enlarged  Dictionary  of  the 
English  Language.  Adapted  for  Library  or  College  Reference,  compris- 
ing 40,000  Words  more  than  Johnson's  JJictionary.  4to.  cloth,  1,834  pp. 
price  31s.  6d.  well  bound. 

"  The  volumes  before  us  show  a  vast  amount  of  diligence;  but  with 
Webster  it  is  diligence  in  combination  with  fancifuluess, — with  Wor- 
cester in  combination  with  good  sense  and  judgment.  Worcester's  is  the 
soberer  and  safer  book, and  maybe  pronounced  the  best  existing  English 
Lexicon." — Athenceum. 

The  Publishers'  Circular,  and  General  Pecord  of  British  and 

Foreign  Literature;  giving  a  transcript  of  the  title-page  of  every  work 
published  in  Great  Britain,  and  every  work  of  interest  published  abroad, 
with  lists  of  all  the  publishing  houses. 

Published  regularly  on  the  1st  and  1.5th  of  every  Month,  and  forwarded 
post  free  to  all  parts  of  the  world  on  payment  of  8s.  per  annum. 

A  Handbook  to  the  Charities  of  London.      By  Sampson  Low, 

Jun.  Comprising  an  Account  of  upwards  of  800  Institutions  chiefly  in 
London  and  its  Vicinity.  A  Guide  to  the  Benevolent  and  to  the  Unfor- 
tunate.    Cloth  limp,  Is.  6rf. 

Prince  Albert's  Golden  Precepts.  Second  Edition,  with  Photo- 
graph. A  Memorial  of  the  Prince  Consort :  comprising  Maxims  and 
Extracts  from  Addresses  of  His  late  Royal  Highness.  Many  now  for 
the  first  time  collected  and  carefully  arranged.  With  an  Index.  Royal 
16mo.  beautifully  printed  on  toned  paper,  cloth,  gilt  edges,  2s.  6d. 

Our  Little  Ones  in  Heaven :  Thoughts  in  Prose  and  Verse,  se- 
lected from  the  Writings  of  favourite  Authors ;  with  Frontispiece  after 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.     Fcap.  8vo.  cloth  extra.     Second  Edition.     3s.  6af. 


BIOGRAPHY,    TRAVEL,    AND    ADVENTURE. 

HE  Life  of  John  James  Audubon,  the  Naturalist,  in- 
cluding his  Romantic  Adventures  in  the  back  woods  of 
America,  Correspondence  with  celebrated  Europeans,  &c. 
Edited,  from  materials  supplied  by  his  widow,  by  Robert  Bu- 
chanan.    8vo.     With  portraits,  price  15s. 

"  A  readable  book,  with  many  interesting  and  some  thrilling  pages  in 

it_" Athenaeum.    "  From  first  to  last,  the  biography  teems  with  interesting 

adventures,  with  amusing  or  perilous  incidents,  with  curious  gossip,  tcith 
picturesque  description." — Daily  News.  "  But,  as  ice  have  said,  Audubon 
could  write  as  well  as  draw  ;  and  while  his  portfolio  was  a  cause  of  wonder 
to  eveji  such  men  as  Cuvier,  Wilson,  and  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  hii  diary 
contained  a  number  of  spirited  sketches  of  the  places  he  hid  visited,  which 
cannot  fail  to  interest  and  even  to  delight  the  reader."— Examiner. 


List  of  Publications.  11 

Leopold  the  First,  Kin"  of  the  Belgfians;  from  Unpublished 
UooamenU,  by  Theodore  Juste.     Translated  by  Ivobert  Black,  M.A 

"  A  rfndabU  bicxjrnphy  of  the  tcise  and  t/cxid  King  I^opo/d  is  crrUiin  to 
bf  read  in  England." — Daily  News.  "  A  mure  important  cvntrUmtion  to 
historical  littrature  has  not  for  a  long  uhi/e  been  furnished." — Hell's 
Messenfrer.  "  Of  great  value  to  the  ptture  historian ,  and  xcill  interest 
politici/ins  ei-en  now." — Spectator.  "  J'he  subject  is  of  interest,  and  the 
story  is  narrated  without  ejrcess  of  e7ithu.<!iasm  or  depreciation.  The  trans- 
LilioH  by  Mr.  Btnck  is  executed  with  correctness,  yet  not  without  a  grace- 
ful ease.  This  end  is  not  often  attained  in  translations  so  nearly  verbal  at 
this;  the  book  itself  desen-es  to  become  popular  in  Englaiul." — Atbeua^Dm. 

Fredrika  Bremer's  Life,  Letters,  and  Poslhiimous  AVnrks. 
Kdited  by  her  sister,  Charlotte  Bremer;  translated  from  the  Swedish 
by  Fred.  Milow.     Post  8vo.  cloth.     lOs.  6d. 

The  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Emperor  Maximilian:  an  Authentic 
History  of  the  Mexican  Kmpire,  1S61-7.  Topether  with  the  Imperial 
Correspondence.     With  Portrait,  8vo.  price  10s.  6d. 

Madame  Recamier,  Memoirs  and  Correspondence  of.  Trans- 
lated from  the  French  and  edited  by  J.  M.  Luyster.  With  Portrait. 
Crown  »vo.  7*.  6rf. 

Plutarch's  Lives.  An  entirely  new  Library  Edition,  carefully 
revised  and  corrected,  with  some  Original  Translations  by  the  Kditor. 
Edited  by  A.  U.  Clongh,  Ksq.  sometime  Fellow  of  Uriel  College,  Oxford, 
and  late  Professor  of  English  Language  and  Literature  at  University 
College.     6  vols.  8vo.  cloth.     21.  lOs. 

Soc-ial  Life  of  the  Chinese:  a  Dnguerreotype  of  Dai))'  Life  in 
China.  Condensed  from  the  Work  of  the  Rev.  J.  Doolittle,  by  the  Rev. 
PaxtoQ  Hood.     With  above  100  Illustrations.       Post  Svo.  price  8s.  6(i. 

The  Open  Polar  Sea :  a  Narrative  of  a  Voyage  of  Discovery 
towards  the  North  Pole.  By  Ur.  Isaac  I.  Hayes.  An  entirely  new  and 
cheaper  edition.     With  Illustrations.     Small  post  8vo.     6s. 

The  Physical  Geography  of  the  Sea  and  its  Meteorology  ;  or,  the 

Economy  of  the  Sea  and  its  Adapt  at  ions,  its  Salts,  its  Waters,  its  Climates, 
itii  Inhabitants,  and  whatever  there  may  be  of  general  interest  in  its  Com- 
mercial U»e»or  Industrial  Pursuits.  Uy  Commander  M.  F.  Maury,  LL.D 
New  Edition.     With  Charts.      Post  8vo.  cloth  extra. 

Captain  Hall's  Life  with  the  Esquimaux.      New    and   cheaper 

Edition,  with  Coloured  Engravings  and  upwards  of  100  Woodcuts.  W  ith 
•  Map.  Price  7».  tW.  cloth  extra.  Forming  the  dieajiest  and  most  popu- 
lar Edition  of  a  work  on  Arctic  Life  and  Exploration  ever  published. 

Christian  Heroes  in  the  Army  and  Navy.  By  Charles  Rogers, 
LL.O.  Author  of"  Lyra  Bntiinnica."     Crown  8vo.  3*.  tW. 

The  Black  Country  and  iis  Green  liorder  Land  ;  or,  Expedi- 
li'>n»  and  Expl'irii'iions  round  Itinningliuni,  Wolverhampton,  &c.  By 
Elihu  llurritt.     Second  and  cheaper  edition,  [lOst  8vo.  (S». 

A  Walk  from  Ixndon  to  .lolm  O'Groats,  and  from  London  to 
the  I..and'ii  End  ond  Back  With  Notes  by  the  Way.  By  Elihu  Bnrritt. 
Two  volt,  price  «j.  each,  with  lUastrutiuua. 


12  Sampson  Low  and  Co.^s 

The  Voyage  Alone ;  a  Sail  in  the  "  Yawl,  Eob  Roy."    By  John 
M'Gregor.     With  Illustrations.     Price  bs. 

Also,  uniform,  by  the  same  Author,  with  Maps  and  rMmerous  Illus- 
trations, price  5s.  each. 

A  Thousand  Miles  in  the  Rob  Roy  Canoe,  on   Rivers   and   Lakes   of 
Europe.     Fifth  edition. 

The  Rob  Roy  on  the  Baltic.     A  Canoe  Voyage  in  Norway,  Sweden,  &c. 

NEW    BOOKS    FOR    YOUNG    PEOPLE. 

ILD  Life  under  the  Equator.  By  Paul  Du  Chaillu, 
Author  of  "  Discoveries  in  Equatorial  Africa."  With  40 
Original  Illustrations,  price  6s. 

31.  du  Chaillu's  name  will  be  a  sufficient  guarantee  for  the  interest  of 

Wild  Life  under  the  Equator,  uhich  he  has  narrated  for  young  people  in 

a  very  readable  volume." — Times.     "  M.  Du  Chaillu  proves  a  good  writer 

for  the  young,  and  he  has  skilfully  utilized  his  experience  for  their  benefit." 

Economist.     "  The  author  possesses  an  immense  advantage  over  other 

writers  of  Adventures  for  boys,  and  this  is  secure  for  a  popular  run :  it 
is  at  once  light,  racy,  and  ai^rarfiue."— Illustrated  Times. 

Also  by  the  same  Author,  uniform. 

Stories  of  the  Gorilla  Country,  36  Illustrations.     Price  6s. 

"  It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  more  interesting  book  for  boys  than  this." — 
Times.  "  Young  people  will  obtain  from  it  a  very  considerable  amount 
of  information  touching  the  manners  and  customs,  ways  and  means  of 
Africans,  and  of  course  great  amusement  in  the  accounts  of  the  Gorilla. 
The  book  is  really  a  meritorious  work,  and  is  elegantly  got  up." — Athenaeum. 

Cast  Away  in  the  Cold.  An  Old  Man's  Story  of  a  Young  Man's 
Adventures.  By  the  Author  of  "  The  Open  Polar  Sea."  With  Illus- 
trations.    Small  8vo.  cloth  extra,  price  6s. 

"  The  result  is  delightful.  A  story  of  adventure  of  the  most  telling 
local  colour  and  detail,  the  most  exciting  danger,  and  ending  icith  the  most 
natural  and  effective  escape.  There  is  an  air  of  veracity  and  reality 
about  the  tale  which  Capt.  Hayes  could  scarcely  help  giving  to  an  Arctic 
adventure  of  any  kind.  There  is  great  vivacity  and  picturesqucness  in 
the  style,  trie  illustrations  are  admirable,  atid  there  is  a  novelty  in  the 
'  denouement'  tchich  greatly  enhances  the  pleasure  with  ichich  we  lay  the 
book  down.  This  story  of  the  two  Arctic  Crusoes  will  long  remain  one  of 
the  most  powerful  of  children's  stories,  as  it  assuredly  deserves  to  be  one 
of  the  most  popular." — Spectator. 

The  Silver  Skates;  a  Story  of  Holland  Life.  By  Mrs.  M.  A. 
Dodge.    Edited  by  W.  H.  Q.  Kingston.     Illustrated,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6d. 

The  Voyao-e  of  the  Constance ;  a  tale  of  the  Polar  Seas.  By 
Mary  Gitlies.    With  8  Illustrations  by  Charles  Keene.     Fcap.  3s.  6d. 


List  of  Puhllcaiioiis.  13 


Life  amon^t  the  North   and   South  American    Indians.     By 

George  Catlin.  And  Last  Rambles  araoiipst  the  Iijiliiiiis  beyoud  the 
Rofky  Mountuins  and  the  Andes.  With  numerous  Illustrations  by  the 
Author.     2  vols,  small  post  8vo.  bs.  each,  cloth  extra. 

"  An  admirnble  book,  full  of  usrfitl  information,  u-rnpt  up  in  stories 
pecuiutrly  adiipteit  to  rouse  the  imayinatwn  and  stimulate  the  curiosity  of 
boys  mid  girls.     To  compare  a  book  icith  '  Hobinson  Crusoe,'  and  to  say 

that  it  sustains  such  comparison,  is  to  give  it  high  praise  indeed." 

Atbenicum. 

Oiir  Salt  and  Fre.sh  Wator  Tutors ;  a  Story  of  that  Good  Old 
Time— Our  School  Days  at  the  Cape.  Edited  by  \V.  H.  G.  Kingston. 
With  Illustrations,  jirice  3«.  6d. 

"  One  of  the  best  books  of  t/ie  kind  that  the  .reason  has  given  us.  This 
little  book  is  to  be  commended  warmly." — Illastrated  Times. 

The  Boy's  Own  Book  of  Boats.  A  Description  of  every  Craft 
that  sails  upon  the  waters  ;  and  how  to  JMuke,  Kip,  and  Sail  Model 
Boats,  by  W.  H.  O.  Kingston,  with  numerous  Illustrations  by  £.  Weedoo. 
Second  edition,  enlarged.     Fcup.  8vo.  \is.  6d. 

"  This  weU-uiitten,  well-wrought  book." — Athenieam. 

Also  by  the  same  Author, 
Ernest  Urarebridge  ;  or.  Boy's  Own  Book  of  Sports.     3.?.  6rf. 
The  Fire  Ships.     A  Ptory  of  the  Days  of  Lord  Cochrane.     6*. 
The  Cruise  of  the  Frolic.     5.?. 
Jack  Buntliue:  the  Life  of  a  Sailor  Boy.     2s. 

The  Autobiography  of  a  Small  Boy.  By  the  Author  of"  School 
Days  at  Saxonborst."     Fcap.  8vo.  cloth,  &s.  [Nearly  ready. 

Also  now  ready. 
Alwyn  Morton,  hia  School  and  his  Schoolfellows,     bs. 
Stanton  Grange;  or,  Life  at  a  Tutor's,     By  the  Rev.  C,  J,  Atkinson.  5s. 

Phcnumona  and  Laws  of  Ileat :  a  Volume  of  Marvels  of  Science. 
By  .\chille  C«zin.  Translated  and  Edited  by  Elihn  Rich.  With 
nameroiu  Illnntrations.     Fcup.  8vo.  price  bs. 

Also,  uniform,  same  price. 

Marvels  of  Optica.     By  F.  .Marion.     Edited  and  Translated  by  C.  W. 
Quin,     With  70  Ulu.strationg.     bs. 

Marvel*  of  Thundrr  and  Lightning.     By  De  Fonvielle.     Edited  by  Or. 
i'bipfton.     Full  of  Illustrations,     bs. 

Stories  of  the  Great  Prairie.  From  the  Novels  of  J.  F.  Cooper. 
IlloMrated.     Brice  5<. 

Also,  unifiirm,  same  price, 

8torie«  of  the  Wood»,  from  the  Adventures  of  Leather-Stocking. 

Btorieii  of  the  Sea,  from  Cooper's  Naviil  Novels. 

The  Voyage  of  the  Constance.      By  .Mary  Gilli.-s.     '.is.  M. 

The  Hwiu  Family  llobinson,  and  8e<|iiel.      In  1  vol.     :u.  6rf. 

The  Story  Without  an  End.    Translated  by  Sarah  Austin.     2s.  6>l. 


14  Sampson  Low  and  Co.*s 

Under  the  Waves ;  or  the  Hermit  Crab  in  Society.  By  Annie 
E.  Ridley.  Impl.  16mo.  cloth  extra,  -with  coloured  illustration  Cloth, 
is. ;  gilt  edges,  is.  6a!. 

Also  beautifully  Illustrated: — 

Little  Bird  Red  and  Little  Bird  Blue.     Coloured,  5s. 
Snow-Flakes,  and  what  they  told  the  Children.     Coloured,  6s. 
Child's  Book  of  the  Sagacity  of  Animals.     5s. ;  or  coloured,  7s.  6rf. 
Child's  Picture  Fable  Book.     5s.  ;  or  coloured,  7s.  6a!. 
Child's  Treasury  of  Story  Books.     5s. ;  or  coloured,  7s.  6rf. 
The  Nursery  Playmate.    200  Pictures.    5s. ;  or  coloured,  9s. 

Adventures  on  the  Great  Huntinnj-Grounds  of  the  World.  From 
the  Frence  of  Victor  Meunier.  With  additional  matter,  including  the 
Duke  of  Edinburgh's  Elephant  Hunt,  &c.  With  22  Engravings, 
price  5s. 

"  The  book  for  all  boys  in  whom  the  lore  of  travel  and  adventure  is 
strong.  The}/  will  find  here  plenty  to  amuse  them  and  much  to  instruct 
them  besides." — Times. 

Also,  lately  published. 

One  Thousand  Miles  in  the  Rob  Roy  Canoe.  By  John  Macgregor,  M.A.  5s. 

The  Rob  Roy  on  the  Baltic.     By  the  same  Author.    5s. 

Sailing  Alone;  or,  1,500  Miles  Voyage  in  the  Yawl  Rob  Roy.     By  the 

same  Author.     5s. 
Golden  Hair;  aTaleof  t'ne  Pilgrim  Fathers.  By  Sir  Lascelles  Wraxall.  5s. 
Black  Panther  ;  a  Boy's  Adventures  amongst  the  Red  Skins.     By  the 

same  Author.     5s. 

Anecdotes  of  the  Queen  and  Eoyal  Family  of  England.  Collected, 
arranged,  and  edited,  for  the  more  especial  use  of  Colonial  Readers,  by 
J.  George  Hodgins,  LL.B  ,  F.R.G.S.,  Deputy-Superintendent  of  Educa- 
tion for  the  Province  of  Ontario.     With  Illustrations.     Price  5s. 

Geo]^aphy  for  my  Children.  By  Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe. 
Author  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  &c.  Arranged  and  Edited  by  an  Eng- 
lish Lady,  under  the  Direction  of  the  Authoress.  With  upwards  of  Fifty 
Illusti'ations.     Cloth  extra,  4s.  6rf. 

Child's  Play.     Illustrated  with  Sixteen  Coloured  Drawings  by 

E.  V.  B.,  printed  in  fac-simile  by  W.  Dickes'  process,  and  ornamented 
with  Initial  Letters.  Kew  edition,  with  India  paper  tints,  royal  8vo. 
cloth  extra,  bevelled  cloth,  7s.  6c(.  The  Original  Edition  of  this  work 
was  published  at  One  Guinea. 

Little  Gerty  ;  or,  the  First  Prayer,  selected  and  abridged  from 
"  The  Lamplighter."  By  a  Lady.  Price  6d.  Particularly  adapted 
for  a  Sunday  School  Gift  Book. 

Great  Fun  and  More  Fun  for  our  Little  Friends.  By  Harriet 
Myrtle.     With  Edward  Wehnert's  Pictures.     2  vols,  each  5s. 


List  of  PuhUcations.  15 


BELLES    LETTRES,    FICTION,    &c. 
HE  LOG  OF  MV   LEISURE  HOURS:    a  Story  of 

Real  Life.     By  an  Old  i^ailor.     3  vols,  post  8vo.  24s. 

"  If  people  do  not  rend  '  The  Log  '  it  uill  have  failed  ns 
regards  them  ;  but  tt  is  a  success  m  eveiy  sense  of  the  xtord  as 
regards  its  author.     It  deserves  to  succeed." — Moruing  Post. 

David  Gray  ;  and  other  Essays,  chiefly  oa  Poetry.  By  Robert 
Bacbauan.     In  one  vol.  fcap.  8to.  price  6s. 

The  Book  of  the  Sonnet;  being  Selections,  with  an  Essay  on 
Sonnets  and  Souuetoers.  By  the  late  Leigh  Hunt.  Edited.  I'rom  the 
original  MS.  with  Additions,  by  S.  Adams  Lee.     2  vols,  price  18ji. 

"  Htading  a  book  of  this  sort  should  make  us  feel  proud  of  our  language 
and  of  our  ttt'Vature,  aiui  vroud  also  of  t hut  cultivated  common  nature 
urhich  can  rame  so  many  nolle  thoughts  and  images  out  of  this  hunt,  sullen 
world  into  a  thuu.ianJ  enduring  forms  of  beauty.  The  '  Hook  of  the  Son- 
net '  should  be  a  classic,  ami  the  professor  as  icell  as  the  student  of  English 
IL'UI  find  it  a  work  of  deep  uitcrat  and  completeness." — Loudon  Keview. 

Lyra  Sacra  Americana:  Gems  of  American  Poetry,  selecttd 
with  Notes  and  Uiugruphical  Skett-has  by  C.  U.  Cleveland,  U.O.,  Author 
of  the  "  Milton  Concordance."     Ismo.,  cloth,  gilt  edges.     Price  is.  6d. 

Poems  uf  the  Inner  Life.  Selected  chiefly  from  modern  Authors, 
by  permission.     Small  post  ijvo.  6.f. ;  gilt  edges,  6s.  6d. 

English  and  Scotch  Ballads,  &c.  An  extensive  Colleclion. 
with  Notices  of  the  kindred  Ballads  of  other  Nations.  Edited  by  h\  J. 
Child.     8  vols.  fcap.  cloth,  3s.  tx/  each 

The  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table.  By  Oliver  Windell 
Holmes,  LL.D  Popalar  Edition,  Is.  lilastruted  Edition,  choicely 
printed,  cloth  extra,  6s. 

The  Professor  at  the  Brcnkfa.st  Table.  By  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes, 
Author  of  "The  -\ut'jcrat  of  the  Breakfust-Table."  Cheap  Edition, 
fcap.  3s.  Hd. 

Bee-kteiiin;;.  By  "  The  Times  "  Bee-master.  Small  post  8vo. 
numerous  illustrations,  rlotli,  5s. 

"  Ourfrunulthf  lire-tiuister  htuthehnack  nf  erposition,  and  knows  hoio 
to  ttU  a  ftory  well ;  over  and  above  which,  he  t  •Us  a  story  so  t/uil  thousands 
am  take  a  practical,  aiuI  nut  merely  a  speculative  interest  m  it." — Times. 

Queer  Little  People.      By  the  Author  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin." 

Flap.      Is.      Also  by  the  mine  Author. 

The  Little  Foxei  (hat  Hpuil  the  lirapes.  Is. 

TlouMT  and  llurae  I'upiTK,  |i. 

The  I'l-url  ol  <)rr'»  Ii.l.iiid,  llliistrateil  by  Gilbert,  5s. 

The  Miuitter's  Wooing.     lUuslralvd  by  I'biz,  5s. 


16       Sampson  Loiv  and  CoJs  List  of  Publications. 

The  Story  of  Four  Little  Women :  Meg,  Joe,  Beth,  and  Am}'. 
By  Louisa  M.  Alcott.     With   Illustrations.      16mo,  cloth  3s.  (kl. 

"  A  bright,  cheerful,  healthy  story — icith  a  tinge  of  thoughtful  gravity 
about  it  which  reminds  one  of  John  Hunyan.  Meg  going  to  Vanity  Fair 
is  a  chapter  icritten  with  great  cleverness  and  a  pleasant  humour."— 
Guardian. 

Also,  Entertaining  Stories  for  Young  Ladies,  Zs.  dd.  each,  cloth,  gilt  edges. 

Helen  Felton's  Question  :  a  Book  for  Girls.     By  Agnes  Wylde. 

Faith  Gartney's  Girlhood.     By  Mrs.  D.  T.  Whitney.     Seventh  thousand. 

The  Gayworthys.     By  the  same  Author.     'Ihird  Edition. 

A  Summer  in  Leslie  Goldthwaite's  Life.     By  the  same  Author. 

The  Masque  at  Ludlow.     By  the  Author  of  "  Mary  Powell." 

Miss  Biddy  Frobisher:  a  Salt  Water  Story.     By  the  same  Author. 

Selvaggio;  a  Story  of  Italy.  By  the  same  Author.    New  Edition. 

The  Journal  of  a  Waiting  Gentlewoman.  By  a  new  Author.  New  Edition 

The  Shady  Side  and  the  Sunny  Side.     Two  Tales  of  New  England. 

Marian ;  or,  the  Light  of  Some  One's  Home.     By  Maud  Jeanne 
Fi'anc.     Small  post  8vo.,  5s. 

Also,  by  the  .■same  Author. 
Emily's  Choice  :  an  Australian  Tale.     5s. 
Vermont  Vale  :  or,  Home  Pictures  in  Australia.     5s. 

Tauchnitz's  English  Editions  of  German  Authors.    Each  volume 
cloth  flexible,  2s. ;  or  sewed,  Is.  6rf.     The  following  are  now  ready  : — 

1.  On  the  Heights.     By  B.  Auerbach.     3  vols. 

2.  In  the  Year  '13.     By  Fritz  Reuter.     1  vol. 

3.  Faust.     By  Goethe.     1  vol. 

4.  Undine,  and  other  Tales.     By  Fouque.     1  vol. 
5    L'Arrabiata.     By  Paul  Heyse.     1  vol. 

6.  The  Princess,  and  other  Tales.     By  Heinrieh  Zschokke.     1  vol. 

7.  Lessing's  Nathan  the  Wise. 

8.  Hacklander's  Behind  the  Counter,  translated  by  Mary  Howitt. 

Low's   Copyright  Cheap  Editions  of  American  Authors.      A 

thoroughly  good  and  cheap  series  of  editions,  which,  whilst  combining 
every  advantage  that  can  be  secured  by  the  best  workmanship  at  the 
lowest  possible  rate,  will  possess  an  additional  claim  on  the  reading 
public  by  providing  for  the  remuneration  of  the  American  author  and 
the  legal  protection  of  the  English  publisher.     Ready  : — 

1.  Haunted  Hearts.     By  the  Author  of  "  The  Lamplighter." 

2.  The  Guardian  Angel.     By  "  The  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table." 

3.  The  Minister's  Wooing.     By  the  Author  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin." 

To  be  followed  by  a  New  Volume  on  the  first  of  every  alternate  month. 
Each  complete  in  itself,  printed  from  new  type,  with  Initial  Letters  and  Orna- 
ments, and  published  at  the  low  price  of  Is.  Hd.  stiff  cover,  or  2s.  cloth. 


LONDON:    SAMPSON    LOW,   SON,    AND    MAKSTON, 

CROWN  BUILDINGS,  188,  FLEET  STREET. 
English,  American,  and  Colonial  Booksellers  and  Publishers. 

Chiswiek  Press: — Whittingham  and  Wilkins,  Tooks  Court,  Chancery  Lnne. 


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