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THE 

ESSAYS 

OF  ' 

FRANCIS       BACON, 

BARON     OF    VERULAM, 
VISCOUNT     St.     ALBAN, 

AND 

LORD    HIGH    CHANCELLOR  OF  ENGLAND; 

COT^  T  AI  NING 

THE  ADVANCEMENT  OF  LEARNING, 

NATURAL    AND    HUMAN     PHILOSOPHY, 

MORAL  KNOWLEDGE,  THEOLOGY,  &c. 

TO    WHICH     IS    ADDED 

HIS  CELEBRATED  HISTORY  OF 

LIFE     AND     DEATH. 

ANEW       EDITION. 
IN     TWO     VOLUMES. 

VOL.     II. 

L     O     N    D     O     N: 

^cinteti  at  tfie  Holographic  ^reC^, 

XY  J.  WALTER,   PRINTING-HOUSE-SQJJARE,   BLACKFRIARSt 
AND  SOLD   BY   J.   ROE30N,  NEW  BOND  STREET  :    T.  LONG- 
MAN,    AND     R.   BALDWIN,     PATERNOSTER-ROW  :    AND   W. 
ilCHARDSON,    UNDER    THE    ROYAL    EXCHANGE, 
V.BCC.LXXXVK. 


"^^ 


T  O 


The     king, 


'TPHERE  were  under  the  law,  excellent 
King,  both  daily  facrifices,  and  free- 
will offerings :  the  one  proceeding  upon  or- 
dinary obfervance,  the  other  upon  a  devout 
cheerfulnefs :  m  like  manner  there  belongeth 
to  kings  from  their  fervants,  both  tribute  of 
duty,  aiid  prefents  of  affe£lion.  In  the  former 
of  theie  I  hope  I  fhall  not  live  to  be  wanting, 
according  to  my  mofl:  humble  duty,  and  the 
good  pleafure  of  your  Majefty's  employ- 
ments: for  the  latter,  I  thought  it  more 
refpedive  to  make  choice  of  fome  oblation, 
which  might  rather  refer  to  the  propriety 
A  and 


fi.  DEDICATION. 

and  excellency  of  your  individual  perfon,  than 
to  the  bufinefs  of  your  crown  and  ftate. 

Wherefore  reprefenting  your  Majefty 
many  tunes  unto  my  mind,  and  beholding 
you  not  with  the  inquifitive  eye  of  perfump- 
tion,  to  difcover  that  which  the  fcripture 
tells  me  is  infcrutable,  but  with  the  obfervant 
eye  of  duty  and  admiration :  leaving  afide 
the  other  parts  of  your  virtue  and  fortune,  I 
have  been  touched,  and  poflefled  with 
an  extreme  wonder  at  thofe  your  virtues  and 
faculties,  which  the  philofophers  call  intel- 
ledual :  the  largenefs  of  your  capacity,  the 
faithfulnefs  of  your  memory,  the  fwiftnefs 
of  your  apprehenfion,  the  penetration  of  your 
judgment,  and  the  facility  and  order  of  your 
elocution:  and  I  have  often  thought,  that 
of  all  the  perfons  living  that  I  have  known, 
your  Majefty  were  the  beft  inftance  to  make 
a  man  of  F/<:?/(5's  opinion,  that  all  knowledge 
is  but  remembrance,  and  that  the  mind  of 
man  by  nature  knows  all  things,  and   has 

but 


DEDICATION.  HI. 

but  her  own  native  and  original  notions 
(whlcli  by  the  ftrangenefs  and  darknefs  of 
this  tabernacle  of  tlie  body  are  fequeflered) 
again  revived  and  reftored :  fuch  a  light  of 
nature  I  have  obferved  in  your  majefty,  and 
fuch  a  readinefs  to  take  flame,  and  blaze 
from  the  leaft  occafion  prefcnted,  or  the 
leaft  fpark  of  another's  knowledge  deliver- 
ed. And  as  the  Scripture  fays  of  the  wlfeft 
king,  that  his  heart  was  as-  the  fands  of  the 
fta  ;  which  though  it  be  one  of  thelargeft 
bodies,  yet  it  confiileth  of  the  fmalleft  and 
finefl  portions  :  fo  hath  God  given  your 
majefty  a  compofition  of  underftanding 
admirable,  being  able  to  compafs  and  com- 
prehend the  greatefl  matters,  and  never- 
thelefs  to  touch  and  apprehend  the  leafl ; 
whereas  it  fhould  feem  an  impolfibility  in 
nature,  for  the  fame  inftrument  to  make  it- 
felf  fit  for  great  and  fmall  works.  And  for 
your  gift  of  fpeech,  I  call  to  mind  what 
Cornelius  Tacitus  faith  of  Auguflus  Caefar  ; 
^ugujlo  frqflums  et  qua  principem  deceret,  elo- 
A  3  quentia 


IV.  DEDICATION. 

quent'iafult  :  For,  if  we  note  it  well,  fpeech 
that  is  uttered  with  labour  and  difficiUty,  or 
rpeech  that  favoureth  of  the  affedation  of  art 
and  precept?,  or  fpeech  that  is  framed  after 
the  imitation  of  fome  pattern  of  eloquence, 
though  never  fo  excellent  ;  all  this  hath 
fomewhat  fervile,  and  holding  of  the  rubje<fl. 
But  your  majefty's  manner  of  fpeech  is  in<^ 
deed  prince-like,  flowing  as  from  a  fountain, 
and  yet  ftreaming  and  branching  itfelf  into 
nature's  order,  full  of  facility  and  felicity, 
imitating  none,  and  inimitable  by  any.  And 
as  in  your  civil  eflate  there  appeareth  to  be 
an  emulation  and  contention  of  your  Majef- 
ty's  virtue  with  your  fortune ;  a  virtuous 
difpolition  with  a  fortunate  regiment  ;  a  vir- 
tuous expe£tation,  when  time  was,  of  your 
gi'eater  fortune,  with  a  profperous  poffeffion 
thereof  in  the  due  time  ;  a  virtuous  obferv- 
ation  of  the  laws  of  marriage,  with  moft 
blefled  and  happy  fruit  of  marriage  ;  a  vir- 
tuous and  mofl:  chriftian  defire  of  peace, 
with  a  fortunate  inclination  in  your  neigh - 
I  bour 


DEDICATION.  V« 

bour  princes  thereunto  :  fo  likewife  In  thefe 
intelleaual  matters,  there  feemeth  to  be  no 
lefs  contention    between    the  excellency  of 
your  Majefty's  gifts  of  nature,  andtheuni- 
verfality  and   perfedion    of  your  learning. 
For  I  am  well  affured,  that  this  which  I  Ihall 
{xy  is  no  ampUfication  at  all,  but  a  pofitive 
and  meafured  truth  ;  which  is,  that  there 
hath  not  been  fmce  Chrift's  time  any  king 
or  temporal  monarch,  which  hath   been   fo 
learned  in  all  literature  and  erudition,  di- 
vine and  human.     For  let  a   man  ferioufly 
and  diligently  revolve  and  perufe  the  fuccef- 
ibrs  of  the  Emperors  of  Rome,  of  which 
Citfar  the  didator,   who  lived  fome  years 
liefore  Chrifl,  and  Marcus  Antoninus,  were 
the  beft  learned  ;  and  fo  defcend  to  the  Em- 
perors of  Grsecia,  or  of  the  Weft ;  and  then 
to  the  lines  of  France,  Spain,  England,  Scot- 
land, and  the  reft,  and  he  ftiall  find  this  judg- 
ment is  truly  made.  For  it  feemeth  much  in 
a  king,  if,  by  the   compendious  extradions 
of  other  men's  wits    and   labours,    he  can 

take 


Vl.  DEDICATION. 

take  hold  of  any  fuperficial  ornaments  and 
fhews  of  learning,  or  if  he  countenance  and 
prefer  learning  and  learned  men  :  but  to 
drink  indeed  of  the  true  fountains  of  learn- 
ing, nay,  to  have  fach  a  fountain  of  learn- 
ing in  himfelf,  in  a  king,  and  in  a  king 
born,  is  almoft  a  miracle.  And  the  more, 
becaufe  there  is  met  in  your  majefty  a  rare 
conjun^lion,  as  well  of  divine  and  facred 
literature,  as  of  profane  and  human  ;  fo  as 
your  Majefty  flandeth  inverted  of  that  tri- 
plicity,  which  in  great  veneration  was  af- 
cribed  to  the  ancient  Hermes  ;  the  power 
and  fortune  of  a  king,  the  knowledge  and 
illumination  of  a  prieft,  and  the  learning 
and  univerfaHty  of  a  philofopher.  This 
propriety,  inherent  and  individual  attribute 
in  your  Majefty,  deferveth  to  be  exprefled, 
not  only  in  the  fame  and  admiration  of  the 
prefent  time,  nor  in  the  hiflory  or  tradition 
of  the  ages  fucceeding;  but  alfo  in  fome 
folid  work,  fixed  memorial,  and  immortal 
monumentj  bearing  a  character  or  fignature, 

both 


DEDICATION.  Vll. 

both  of  the  power  of  a  king,  and  the  dif- 
ference and  perfedlion  of  fuch  a  king. 

Therefore   I    did   conclude  with  myfelf, 
that  I  could  not  make   unto  your  Majefty  a 
better  oblation  than,  of  fome  treatife  tend- 
ing to  that  end,  whereof  the  fum  will  con- 
fifl  of  thefe    two   parts :  the  former,    con- 
cerning   the    excellency    of   learning    and 
knowledge,  and  the  excellency  of  the  me- 
rit and  true  glory  in  the  augmentation  and 
propagation  thereof:    the  latter,    what  the 
particular  ads  and  works  are,    which   have 
'  been  embraced  and  undertaken   for  the  ad- 
vancement of  learning;  and  again,  what  de- 
feds  and  undervalues   I   find  in  fuch  parti- 
cular ads,  to  the  end,   that  though  I  can- 
not pofitively  or  affirmatively  advife  your 
Majefty,  or  propound  unto  you  framed  par- 
ticulars ;  yet  I  may  excite  your  princely  co- 
gitations to  vifit  the  excellent  treafure    of 
your  own  mind,  and   thence  to  extrad  par- 
ticulars for  this  purpofe,  agreeable  to  your 

magnanimity  and  wifdom. 

THE 


CONTENT  S. 

OX  the  Difcredits  of  Learning,  Page  i 

Political  Objeclions  againft  Learning,  lO 

Of  the  Poverty  of  the  Learned,  24 

From  the  Studies  of  the  Learned,  40 

Delicate  Learning,  41 

Contentious  Learning,  46 

Fantaftic  Learning,  ^i 

Prejudices  of  the  Learned,  57 

On  the  Dignity  of  Learning,  69 

Of  Human  Proofs  and  Arguments,  80 

The  Intiuence  of  Learning  in  ^Military  Affairs  93 

on  Moral  Virtue,  108 

Of  the  Power  and  Sovereignty  of  Learning,  113 

Of  the  Afts  of  Merit  towards  Learning  122 

Defeats  of  Literary  Eilablifhments,  125 

On  the  Hiflory  of  Learning,  13^ 
On  the  Dignity  and  Difficulty  of  Civil  Hiftory,       140 

On  the  Partition  of  Civil  Hiftory,  142 

On  Ecclefiallical  Hiftory,  i^g 

On  the  Appendages  of  Hillory,  153 

On  Poetry,  i^^ 

On  the  Triumphs  of  Man,  163 

On  Divine,  Natural  and  Human  Philofophy,  168 

On  Memory,  201 

OnRhetorick,  206 

On  Critical  and  Pedantical  Knowledge,  217 

On  Moral  Knowledge,  227 

On  Civil  Converfation,  285 

On  the  Architeft  of  his  Fortune,  290 

On  Infpired  Divinity,  329 

On  the  Matter  of  Divinity,        /yj^  4^  £,,  346 

The  Hillory  of  Life  and  Death,  '  353 

Oa 


ii.  CONTENT    S. 

On  the  Durability  of  Nature,  Page.  357 

On  the  Longevity  of  Plants,  360 

Of  Drynefs,  363 

On  the  Duration  of  Life  in  Animals  37 1 

Of  Nourifliment,  384 

Of  the  Longevity  of  Man,  387 

Medicines  and  Rules  for  Long  Life  418 

To  continue  and  renew  the  vigour  of  the  Spirits,  424 

On  the  Exclufion  of  the  Air,  446 
The  Operation  on  the  Blood,  and  cooling  its  Heat,  453 

Operation  on  the  Moillure  of  the  Body,  455 

To  promote  Digeftion,  458 
To    prepare  the  Outward    Parts    for     attratling 

Nourifliment,  466 

On  Food  and  Diet,  468 

The  Operation  on  the  laft  Aft  of  Affimilation,  470 

On  making  the  Body  Tender  and  Young  47 

On  Renewing  the  Moifture  of  the  Body,  473 

Caufes  and  Symptoms  of  Death,  474 


ESS    A    Y  S,   &c. 


O   F 


FRANCIS,  LORD  BACON, 

VISCOUNT    St.  ALB  AN. 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

De  Jugmentls  Scientlarum.     Lib.  Prim. 

"^O  clear  the  way,  and  command  filence, 
in  order  to  have  the  teftimonies  con- 
cernhig  the  dignity  of  learning  better  heard, 
without  the  interruption  of  tacit  objeaions, 
I  have  determined  in  the  firft  place,  to  deli- 
ver learning  from  the  difgrace  and  difcredit, 
which  ignorance  has  caft  upon  it ;  igno- 
rance, under  feveral  forms,  appearing  and  dif. 
covering  itfelf  fometimes  in  the  zeal  of  di- 
vines, fometimes  in  the  arrogance  of  poli- 
VoL.  11.  B  ticians, 


2  ON  TIIF  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

ticians,  and  fometimes  in  the  errors  of  learn- 
ed men  themfelves. 


I  hear  the  firfl:  fay,  *'  That  knowledge  is 
*'  of  the  number  of  thofe  things,  which  are 
**  to  be  admitted  witli  liniiiation  and  cau- 
"  tion.'*  *'  That  an  over-great  appetite  of 
*'  knowledge  was  the  firft  fm,  whereupon 
*'  enfucd  the  fall  of  man  ;  and  that  even  to 
*'  this  day  it  hath  fomewhat  of  the  lerpent 
"  in  it ;  for  when  it  enters,  it  makes  a  man 
*'  fweU.'*  Scientia  infiat.  "  Tliat  Solomon 
*'  is  of  opinion  there  is  no  end  in  mak- 
*'  ing  books;  and  that  much  reading  is 
**  wearinefs  of  the  flefli."  And  in  an- 
other place.  *'  That  in  much  wifdom 
*'  there  is  much  grief!"  Allb  "  He  that 
**  encreafeth  knowledge,  encreafeth  ar^x- 
"  iety."  That  St.  Paul  puts  in  a  caveat, 
*'  That  we  be  not  fpoiled  through  vain 
•*  philolbphy.*'  Further,  *'  That  ex- 
*'  perience  demonftrates,  that  the  mod 
"  learned  men  have  been  arch-heretics ; 
*'  and  the  mofl  learned  times  inclined  to 
"  Atheifm."  Finally,  *'  That  the  con- 
"  templatlon  of  fecond  caufes  derogates 
"  from  the  authority  of  the  firft.*' 

To 


ON   THE  nrsCRF.DIT  OF  LEAKKIKG.          3 

To  dlfcover  then  tlie  fiilfity  of  this  opinion 
and  the  weakncfs  of  its  foundation,  nnv  man 
may  Ice  plainly  they  do  not  coniider,  that 
the  knowledge,  which  occafioned  the  fiill, 
was  not  that  pure  and  primitive  knowledge 
of  nature,  by  the  liglit  of  which  man  gave 
hamcs  toother  creatures  in  Paradife,  as  they 
were  brought  before  him,  according  to  their 
properties;  but  that  ^mbitious  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil,  by  which  he  affe^^led  to  Ihake 
otf  God,  and  give  law  to  himfclf.  Neither 
is  it  any  quantity  of  knowledge,  how  great 
foever,  that  can  fwell  the  mind,  fince  no- 
tl^.ingcan  fill  the  foul,  much  lefs  expand  it, 
but  God,  and  the  contemplation  of  him. 
And  therefore  Solomon,  fpeaking  of  the  two 
principal  lenfes  of  inquiiltlon,  (feeing  and 
hearing)  iaith,**  That  the  eye  is  never 
*'  fatistied  with  feeing,  nor  the  ear  with 
•'  hearing."  Ecclef.  i.  8.  And  if  there  be 
no  fulncfs,  it  follows,  that  the  objeds  of 
ienfe  are  not  adequate  to  their  capacity. 

In  like  manner,  knowledge  itfelf,  and  the 

mind  of  man  (to  which  the  fenfes  are  emif- 

faries)  he  defines  in  thefe  words,  which  he 

fubjoins  to  his  calendar,  or  regifter  of  times, 

B  2  »  con- 


4  ON   THE  DISCREDIT   OF  LEARNING. 

concluding  thus:  *'  God  hath  made  all  thingg 
*'  beautiful,  or  decent,  in  the  true  return  of 
*«  their  feafons."  Ecclef.  3.  ii.  Alfo  *'  He 
*'  hath  placed  the  world  in  man's  heart, 
**  yet  cannot  man  find  out  the  work  which 
*'  God  worketh  from  the  beginning  to  the 
*«  end."  By  which  wordsheplainly  intimates, 
that  God  has  framed  the  mind  like  a  mirror, 
capable  of  the  image  of  the  univerfal  world, 
and  as  delirous  of  receiving  it,  as  the  eye  is 
of  light;  and  delighted  to  behold  not  only 
the  varieties  and  viciflitudes  of  times,  but 
ambitious  likewife  to  fearch,  and  explore 
the  immoveable  and  inviolable  laws  and 
decrees  of  nature.  And  although  he  feems  to 
infniuate,  that  the  whole  of  that  oeconomy 
of  nature,  which  he  calls  the  work  which 
God  works  from  the  beginning  to  the  end, 
is  not  pofTible  to  be  found  out  by  man  ;  this 
does  not  derogate  from  the  capacity  of  men, 
but  fhould  be  cafl  upon  the  impediments  of 
knowledge;  fuch  as  the  fhortnefs  of  life; 
reparation  in  mens  fludies ;  a  depraved  and 
unfaithful  tradition  of  knowledge  ;  and  a 
number  of  other  inconveniencies,  to  which 
the  Condition  of  man  is  fubjed ;  for  that  no 
part  of  the   univerfe  is  improper  for  the  dif- 

quifitioa 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.  5 

quifition  of  man,  he  fhews  clearly  enough 
in  another  place;  where  he  lays,"  The  fpirit 
"  of  man  is  as  the  lamp  of  God,  where- 
*'  with  he  fearcheth  the  moft  hidden 
"  lecrets.'* 

If  then  fuch  be  the  capacity  of  the  mind 
of  man,  it  is  manifeft  that  there  is  no  dan- 
ger from  the  quantity  of  knowledge,  how 
large  foever,  left  it  (hould  make  it  fwell ;  but 
merely  in  the  quality  of  knowledge,  which 
though  ever  fo  fmall,  if  it  betaken  without 
its  proper  antidote,  hath  a  kind  of  malignity 
in  it,  full  of  flatulent  fymptoms.  This 
antidote,  the  mixture  of  which  tempers 
knowledge,  and  renders  it  exceeding  whole- 
fome,  is  charity  ;  which  alfo  the  Apoftle 
fubjoins  to  the  former  claufe,  faying, 
*'  Knowledge  puffeth  up,  but  charity  build- 
"  eth  up."  Not  unlike  that  which  he  delivers 
in  another  place,"  Though  I  fpake  with  the 
"  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have 
*'  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  a  founding 
"  brafs,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal,"  i  Cor.  13. 
Not  but  it  is  an  excellent  thing  to  fpeak  with 
the  tongues  of  men  and  angels ;  yet  if  it  be 
fevered  from  charity,  and  not  referred  to  the 
B  3  public 


6         ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

public  good  of  mankind,  it  will  rather  ex- 
hibit an  empty  glory,  than  any  folid  fruit. 

As  for  Sclomons  cenfure,  touching  the 
excels  of  writing  and  reading  books,  and  the 
anxiety  of  fpirit  redounding  from  knowledge 
with  that  admonition  of  St.  PW,  "  That 
*^  we  be  not  feduced  by  vain  philofophy,"  let 
thofc  paflages  be  rightly  explained,  and  they 
clearly  point  out  the  true  bounds  and  limits 
within  which  human  knowledge  is  confined 
and  circumfcribed,  yet  fo  as  Ihe  may  be  at 
liberty  to  comprehend  and  take  in  -he 
univerfal  nature  of  things.  The  limits  are 
three  :  firfl,  that  we  do  not  fo  place  our 
felicity  in  knowledge,  as  to  forget  our  mor- 
tality :  iecond,  that  we  do  not  fo  ufe  our 
knowledge,  as  to  be  the  occafion  of  anxiety, 
not  tranquillity  of  mind  :  the  third,  that  we 
do  not  think,  by  the  contemplation  of  nature, 
to  be  able  to  reach  the  divine  myfteries. 

The  firft,  Solomon  excellently  explains 
in  another  place  of  the  fame  book,  Ecclef.  2, 
13.  ^c.  "  I  faw  well,"  faith  he,  "  that 
*'  wifdom  recedeth  as  far  from  folly,  as 
^*  light  from  darknefs.     The  wife  man's 

•'  eyes 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.  7 

<'  eyes  keep  watch  i"  his  head,  whereas  the 
«'  fool  roveth  about  in  darkuefs ;  but  withal 
"  I  learned  that  the  fame  mortality  involves 
"  them  both." 

For    the    fecond,  certain  it  is,    that  no 
anxiety  or  perturbation  of  mind,  refultsfrom 
knowledge,  but  merely  by  accident ;  for  all 
knowledge,  and  wonder,    is  in  itfelf  plea- 
fant ;  but  when  conclufions  are  drawn  from 
it,  which  being  obliquely  applied  to  our  own 
particular  views,  beget    either   weak    fears, 
or  vafl  defires  ;  then,  and  not  till  then,  arifes 
that  vexation  and  trouble  of  mind  of  v^^hich 
we  are  fpeaking:  for  then  knowledge  is  no 
longer  a  dry  light,  as  Her^ciitus,  the  obfcure, 
would  have  it :    lumen  fccum    optima  amtna ; 
"  dry  light  is  the  heft  foul  ;* '  but  becomes 
lumen    madidum,     atqiie     himorihus     affedium 
maceratum  ;     ''  Light  fteeped  and  infufed  in 
*'  the  humours  of  the  affedtions." 

The  third  rule  requires  a  more  accurate 
difquifition,  and  is  not  to  be  lightly  paffed 
over.  For  if  any  man  thinks,  by  a  view 
and  enquiry  into  fenfible  and  material  things, 
to  attain  fo  much  light,  as  will  be  fufficient 
B  4  ^^ 


8  ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

to  difcover  the  nature  or  will  ofGod,  that  man 
indeed  is  fpoiled  through  vain  philofophy : 
for  the  contemplation  of  the  creatures,  with 
regard  to  themfelves  produces  knowledge ; 
but  with  regard  to  God,  wonder  only, 
which  is  a  kind  of  imperfedt  knowledge. 
And  therefore  it  was  mod  aptly  fald  by  one 
of  Plato's  fchool;  "  That  human  fenfes 
*'  refemble  the  fun,  which  reveals  indeed 
*'  the  terreftrial  globe,  but  feals  up  the 
*'  celeftial,  and  the  ftars."  So  the  fenfe 
difcovers  natural  things,  but  darkens  and 
fhuts  up  divine.  And  hence  it  is  that  fome 
of  the  learned  have  fallen  into  herefy, 
while  they  laboured  to  fly  up  to  the  fecrets 
of  the  Deity,  upon  the  wings  of  the  fenfes. 

As  to  thofe  who  are  of  opinion  that  too 
much  knowledge  inclines  the  mind  to 
atheifm,  and  that  the  ignorance  of  fecond 
caules  gives  birth  to  our  piety  towards  the 
firft  caufe,  I  would  willingly  ask  thefe  per- 
fons  Job^  queftion.  Job  13.  7.  "  Whether 
*«  it  be  fit  to  lie  for  God,  and  for  his  fake  to 
<«  fpeak  deceitfully,  that  we  may  gratify 
*'  him  ?"  For  it  is  plain,  that  God  worketh 
nothing  in  the  ordinary  courfe,  of  nature, 

but 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.  p 

but  by  fecond  caufes;  and  if  they  would 
have  it  otherwife  beheved,  it  would  be  mere 
impofture,  in  favour  to  God;  aiid  nothing 
elfe  but  to  offer  to  the  author  of  truth,  the 
unclean  facrifice  of  a  lie. 

But  further,  it  is  an  affured  truth,  and 
warranted  by  experience,  that  a  fmall,  or 
fuperficial  tafte  of  philofophy,  may  per- 
chance incline  a  man  to  atheifm,  but  that  a 
deeper  refearch  brings  him  back  agahi  to 
religion.  For,  in  the  entrance  to  philofophy, 
when  the  fecond  caufes,  which  are  neareft 
to  the  fenfes,  offer  themfelves  to  the  mind 
of  man,  and  its  attention  is  fixed  upon  them, 
an  oblivion  of  the  firft  caufe  may  poffibly 
creep  in;  but  if  a  man  proceeds  further, and 
views  the  dependance,  continuation,  and 
confederacy  of  caufes,  and  the  works  of 
providence,  then,  according  to  the  allegory 
of  the  poets,  he  will  eafily  believe  that  the 
higheft  link  of  Nature's  chain,  is  faflened  to 
the  foot  oi  Jupiter" s  throne. 

To  conclude,  let  no  man  in  purfuit  of 
ill-applied    moderation,     imagine    that    we 
can  go  too  far,  or  be  too  well-fludied  in  the 
book  of  God's  word,  or  in  his  works,  in  divi- 
nity, 


lO  ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

iilty,  or  philofophy;  but  rather  let  men 
awaken  themfelves,  and  vigoroufly  purfue 
an  endlefs  proficiency  in  both ;  only  let  them 
beware,  left  they  apply  knowledge  to  feif- 
admiration,  not  to  charity;  to  oftentation, 
not  to  ufe:  And  that  they  do  not  un(kilfully 
confound  thofe  diftin6l  doctrines,  of  theology 
and  philofophy,  together. 


POLITICAL    OBJECTIONS 

AGAINST 

LEARNING. 

"^TOW  let  us  come  to  the  difgrace  where- 
with the  politicians  afperfe  learning, 
which  is  of  this  nature:  "  That  the  Arts 
*'  foften  mens  minds,  and  render  them 
**  unapt  for  military  glory.  Then,  in 
*'  matter  of  politics,  that  they  fpoil  mens 
*'  difpofitions,  making  them  either  too 
•'  curious  in  refpedt  to  reading,  too  pe- 
*^  remptory  by  the  ftridnefs  of  rules,  or  too 
I  "  in  com- 


OK  THE  DISCREDIT  OF   LEARNING.  H 

*'  incompatible  with  the  times,  by  reafon 
''  of  the  diffimilitude  of  examples  ;  but  at 
*'  leaft,  that  they  divert  and  alienate  mens 
*'  minds  from  bufniefs  and  a6lion,  inftilling 
^'  into  them  a  love  of  leifure  and  privacy : 
"  Next,  that  they  bring  into  flates  a  relaxa. 
*'  tion  of  difcipline,  while  every  man  is 
*'  more  ready  to  argue,  than  to  obey.''  Up- 
on which  Cato,  firnamed  the  Cenfor^  one  of 
the  wift.il  men  that  ever  lived,  when  the 
young  men  of  Rome^  flocked  from  all 
quarters  about  Carneades  the  philofopher, 
who  was  come  Ambaffador  from  Rome,  ta- 
ken with  the  fweetnefs  and  majefty  of  his 
eloquence,  gave  counfel  in  full  fenate, 
*'  That  they  fhould  give  him  his  difmif- 
**  (ion  with  all  fpeed,  left  he  fhould  infe£t 
*'  and  enchant  the  mitids  of  the  citizens, 
•'  and  infenfibly  bring  in  an  alteration  of 
*'  the  manners  and  cufl:oms  of  the  ftate." 
The  fame  reafon  moved  Virgil  alfo,  prefer- 
ring the  honour  of  his  country,  before  his 
own  profefTion,  to  make  a  feparation  between 
the  arts  of  policy,  and  the  arts  of  literature; 
claiming  thofe  to  the  Romans,  ajid  leaving 

thefe 


12         ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

thefe   to  the   Grecians^    in   thofe    celebrated 
Verfes,  Mn.  6.  v.  847.  ^c, 

Excudent  alii.  Sec. 

**  Let  others  better  mould  the  running  mafi 

•'  Of  metal,  and  enforni  the  breathing  brafs, 

*'  And  foften  into  flefli  a  marble  face : 

"  Plead  better  at  the  bar  ;   defcribe  the  (kies, 

*'  And  when  the  ftars  defccnd,  and  when  they  rife. 

**  But  Rome,  'tis  thine  alone  with  awful  fway, 

*'  To  rule  mankind,  and  make  the  world  obey  ; 

**  Difpofing  peace  and  war  thy  own  majeflic  way." 

D  R  Y  D  E  N-. 

We  fee  likewife  that  j^nytas,  the  accufer 
o^  Socrates,  laid  it  as  an  article  of  accufation 
againfl:  him,  that  he  did  by  the  power  and 
variety  of  his  dlfcourfes  and  difputationsde- 
bafein  the  minds  of  young  men,  the  author- 
ity and  reverence  of  the  laws  and  cuftoms  of 
their  country ;  and  that  he  did  profefs  a 
dangerous  art,  with  which,  whoever  was 
furniflied,  might  make  the  worfe  caufe  the 
better,  and  fupprefs  truth  itfelf  by  the 
addrefs  and  fplendour  of  eloquence. 

But  thefe  imputations,  carry  rather 
an  effe£led  gravity,  than  any  fnicerity  of 
truth.     For  experience  witneffes,  that  both 

perfons 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.  J^ 

perfons  and  times  have  flourlfhed  at  once, 
in  the  glory  of  arms  and  education  :  as  for 
men,  we  have  inftances  in  that  noble  pair  of 
Emperors,  Alexander  the  great,  and  JuUuS 
Cccfar  the  dictator;  the  one,  Anjiotle's 
fcholar  in  philofoph v,  the  other,  Cicero  s  rival 
in  eloquence.  Or  if  any  man  lliould  rather 
call  for  learned  men,  who  have  proved  great 
generals,  than  generals  that  were  great 
fcholars,  there  is  ready  for  him  Epaminondas 
the  'Theban,  or  Xenophon  the  Athenian ;  the 
former  of  which  was  the  firft  that  paved  the 
way  to  the  overthrow  of  the  Perjian  mon- 
archy. x'\nd  this  union  of  arms  and  letters 
is  yet  more  vifible  in  times,  than  in  perfons, 
as  an  age  is  a  greater  objedl  than  a  man.  For 
the  very  fame  times  with  the  Egyptians, 
AJfyrians^  Perfans,  Grecians,  and  Remans, 
that  are  mod  renowned  for  military  virtue, 
were  like  wife  moil  admired  for  learning  too ; 
fo  that  the  graveft  authors  and  philofophers, 
and  the  moft  celebrated  captains  and  gover- 
nors, have  lived  in  the  fame  age.  Nor 
indeed  can  it  be  otherwife,  for  as  in  man  the 
vigour  of  body  and  mind  grow  to  maturity 
almoft  together,  except  that  the  former  is  a 
little  more  early  than  theotJier';  fo  in  flates, 

the 


14         ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

the  glory  of  arms  and  learning,  the  one 
whereof  correfponds  to  the  body,  the  other" 
to  the  foul,  are  either  coeval,  or  follow  one 
another  very  clofe. 

Now  In  matters  of  policy  and  government, 
that  learning  (hould  rather  be  an  impediment^ 
than  a  help  to  it,  is  a  thing  very  improbable  5 
we  all  confefs  it  an  unadvikd  a£l:,  to  commit 
a  natural  body,  and  the  cure  of  health  to 
empiric  phylicians,  who  boaft  of  a  few 
receipts,  which  feem  to  them  univerfal 
remedies,  in  confidence  of  which  they  ven- 
ture to  attempt  any  thing,  when  yet  they 
neither  know  the  caufes  of  difeafes,  the 
conftitutioDS  of  patients,  the  dangerof  fymp- 
toms,  nor  the  true  method  of  cures.  We 
fee  a  like  error  in  thofe,  who  for  the  dif- 
patch  of  their  caufes  and  fuits,  make  ufe  of 
little  lawyers,  verfed  in  pra<rtice,  rather 
than  in  the  law-books ;  who  are  eafily  im* 
pofed  upon,  if  there  fall  out  any  thing  new, 
or  out  of  the  common  road  of  their  experi- 
ence :  fo  it  is  a  matter  of  great  danger, 
whenever  affairs  is  intrufted  chiefly  to  em- 
piric flatefmen.  On  the  countrary,  there 
is  fcarce  one  inftance  brought  of  a  difaftrous 

govern- 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF    LEARNING.       I^ 

government,  where  learned  men  have  been 
feated  at  the  helm.  For  though  it  has  been 
ordhiary  with   politicians  to  vilify  learned 
men   by  the  name  of  Pedants^  yet  hiftory 
bears    record   in  abundance  of  particulars, 
that  the  government  of  princes  in  minoritv, 
notwithfianding    the  great  difadvantage  of 
that  kind  of  ftate,  have  neverthelefs  excelled 
the  government  of  princes  of  mature   age, 
even  for   tlie  realbn,  which  politicians   tra- 
duce, of  the  adminiiiration  of  affairs  being 
at  that  time  in  the  hands  of  Peda?2ts,     Who 
does  not  know,  that  during  thofe  five  years 
of  Ne7'o,  fo  much  magnified,  the  burden  of 
affairs  lay  upon  Seneca ^  a  Pedant?    So  again, 
Gordianus  the  younger,  owed  the  ten  years 
applauded  government  to  Miftheus^  a  Pe- 
dant.     Nor  did  Alexander  Sevcrus  govern  lefs 
happily  in  his    miniftry,    in   which  ipace 
women  took  care  of  all    things,  but,  with 
the  advice  of  Preceptors, 
>  ol  f[Tj: 
Let  us  look  into  the  government  of  the 
bifhops  of  Rome-,  that  of  Pius  ^uintus,  or 
Sextus   ^mtus,    in    our   times,    who  were 
efteemed    at   their    entrance    but    as   poor, 
ignorant,  and  unexperienced  friars ;  and  we 

fhall 


l6  ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

fhall  find  that  the  a«fl:s  of  fuch  popes  are  ge- 
nerally more  memorable,  than  of  thofe  who 
have  afcended  to  the  papacy  from  an  educa- 
tion and  breeding  in  affairs  of  ftate,  and  in 
the  courts   of  princes.     For  although  men 
that  have  fpent  mofl  of  their  life  in  letters, 
are  lefs  quick  in  apprehending  occafit)ns,  in 
points  of  convenience,  and  accommodating 
things   for   the  prefent,  which  the   Italians 
call  ragwnl  dl  Jlato,    *'  Reafons    of  ftate.'* 
(the  very  name  whereof  Fius  ^intus  could 
not  bear,  being  ufed  to  fay,  that  they  were 
the  mere  devices  of  wicked  men,  to  opprefs 
religion  and   the  moral  virtues)  yet  in  this 
there  is  made  ample  recompenfe,  that  they 
are  perfe<^  and  ready  in   the  fafe   and  plain 
way  of  religion,  juftice,  honefly,  and   the 
moral  virtues ;  and  they  that  conflantly  keep 
in  this  path,  will  no  more  need  thofe  other 
remedies,  than   a  found  body  does   phyfic. 
Moreover,  the  fpace  of  one  man's  life  can- 
not furnifh  precedents  enough  to  dire£t  the 
events  of  it,  for  as  it  fometimes  happens, 
that  the  grandfon,  or  great  grandfon,  re- 
fembles  the  grand-father,  or  great  grand- 
father more  than  the  father,  fo  it  frequently 
happens  that  the  occurrences  of  prefent  times 

fuit 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING  I  7 

fuit  better  with  antient  examples,  than 
with  thofe  of  latter  times.  Lailly,  the  wit 
of  one  riian  is  as  much  inferior  to  the  extent 
and  latitude  of  learning,  as  the  income  of 
a  private  man  to  a  public  treafury. 

And  though  it  were  granted,  that  thofe  de- 
pravations, indifpofitions,  and  impediments, 
which  are  imputed  to  learning  by  politicians, 
are  of  validity,  and  have  fome  truth  in  them  ; 
yet  it  muft  be  remembered  that  learning  in 
each  of  thefe  is  more  medicinal  than  it  is 
hurtful.  For  allowing,  that  learning  by  a 
fecret  influence  renders  the  mind  irrefolute 
and  perplexed,  yet  certainly  it  plainly 
teaches  how  to  unwind  the  thoughts,  how 
far  to  deliberate,  and  when  at  laft  to  refolve ; 
nay,  it  (hews  how  thingc  in  the  mean  time 
may  be  protradled  and  fafpended  without 
prejudice. 

Let  it  be  granted,  that  learning  makes 
mens  minds  too  pofitive  and  flitF;  yet 
it  teaches,  what  things  are  in  their  nature 
demonflrative,  and  what  conje6lural;  and 
has  for  its  objeft,  as  well  the  ufe  of  dif- 
tindions  and  exceptions,    as  the  liability  of 

Vol.  IL  C  ruks 


l8         ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

rules  and  principles :  again,  that  it  mifleads 
and  wrefts  mens  minds,  either  by  the  dii- 
proportion  or  diffimilitade  of  examples;  that 
may  be,  but  it  unfolds,  and  lays  open,  as 
well  the  force  of  circumflances,  as  the  errors 
of  compnrifons,  and  teaches  all  the  cautions 
of  application ;  fo  that  in  the  whole,  it 
reiftifies  mens  minds  more  than  it  perverts 
them.  And  thefe  remedies  learning  infmu- 
ates  every  where  with  great  force  and  vari- 
ety of  examples.  Let  a  man  weigh  well 
the  errors  of  Clement  the  Vllth,  fo  lively 
defcribed  by  Guicciard'me,  that  was  a  kind 
of  domeftic  to  him  ;  or  the  waverings  of 
Cicero^  painted  to  the  life  by  his  own  pencil, 
in  his  epiftles  to  Atticus',  and  he  will  of  all 
things  fhun  inconftancy,  and  frequent 
fhifting  of  refolutions.  Let  him  look  into 
the  errors  of  Phoc'wn^  and  he  will  dread 
obftinacy,  and  wilfulnefs.  Let  him  rea<l 
the  fable  oflxion,  and  it  will  difpel  exceilive 
hopes  ;  let  him  confider  Cato  the  fecond, 
and  he  will  never  infift  on  that  perfedlion 
in  a  ftate  which  human  nature  cannot  attain. 

Now  for  the  opinion  of  thofe  who  think 
learning  a  friend  to  floth,  and  that  it  over- 

fp  reads 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF   LEARNING.        I9 

fp reads     the    mind  with   a    fv/eet    flumber 
of  repofe  ;  they  will  do  a  miracle  if  they  can 
prove,     that     what     accuftoms    the    mind 
to  a  perpetual  motion,  is  the   patronefs   of 
floth  :  whereas,  on  the  contrary,  it  may  be 
truly  affirmed,   that  no  kind  of  men  love 
bufinefs.for  bulinefs-fake,  but   the  learned. 
For   other   perfons    love   bufniefs,    for   the 
profit,  as  hirelings  the  work  for  the  wages : 
others   for   honour;  for  while  they   are  in 
adlion,  they  live   in  the  eyes  of  men,  and 
refrefh     their     reputation,     which     would 
othervvife   decay  :      others   for  the  f^ike  of 
power,  and   the  privileges  of  fortune,  that 
they  maybe  able  to  reward  their  friends,  and 
be  revenged  on  their  enemies  :   others,  that 
they   may    exercife    fome   peculiar    faculty 
they   are  fond  of,  and  in  that  refpedl  often 
congratulate  and  pleafe  themfelves  :  others, 
laftly,   to   obtain  different   ends   lb  that  as 
it  is   faid  of  bravados,    their   valour   is   in 
the   eyes  of  the   fpedators ;  and  fuch  niens 
diligence  and  a6livity  feem  to  aim  at  this, 
either  that   others   may    applaud   them,    or 
that  they   may  be  delighted  inwardly  with 
felfconceit  and  their    own   dellgns.      Only 
learned   men   love   employment,  as  a6lions 
C  2  agreeable 


20        ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

agreeable  to  nature,  and  no  lefs  healthful 
to  the  mind,  than  exercife  is  to  the  body, 
having  an  eye  to  the  thing  only,  not  the 
profit :  fo  that  of  all  naen,  they  are  the 
mofl:  indefatigable,  provided  it  is  fiich 
bufniefs  that  can  fill  and  entertain  the  n^ind 
according  to  its  dignity. 

And  if  any  are  found  fometimes  adive  in 
reading,  but  idle  in  a6lion,  they  have  not 
this  from  learning,  but  from  fome  weaknefs 
and  foftnefs  of  body,  or  fpirit ;  fuch  as 
Seneca  touches:  "  fome,"  fays  he  "  are 
*'  fo  much  for  fhade  and  obfcurity,  that 
"  whatever  is  in  the  light,  they  take  to  be 
*'  in  a  florm."  It  may  happen,  that  men 
from  a  confcioufnefs  of  fuch  a  temper  devote 
themfelves  to  learning  ;  but  learning  itfelf 
implants  and  breeds  no  fuch  temper. 

But  if  any  man,  notwithflanding,  pe- 
remptorily maintains,  that  learning  fw^al- 
lows  up  too  much  time,  which  might  other- 
wife  be  better  employed  ;  I  anfwer,  that  no 
man  is  fo  ftraitenedand  oppreft  with  bufinefs, 
but  he  has  his  intermiffions  and  vacations  till 
the  returns  and   tides  of  bufmefs   flow  in 

again. 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.        21 

again,  unlefs  he  is  either  very  dull,  and  of 
no  difpatch  ;  or  ambitious  (little  to  his  credit 
and  reputation)  in  reaching  after  morp 
than  he  can  accomplifh. 

It  remains  then  to  be  enquired,  with 
what,  and  in  what  manner  it  may  be  con- 
venient to  fill  up  thofe  fpare  hours  ;  whether 
with  fludies  or  pleafures,  with  fenfuality, 
or  contemplation ;  as  was  anfwered  by 
Demojihenes  to  JEfchines^  a  man  given  to 
pleafure,  who  when  he  told  him  by  way 
of  reproach  ;  "  That  his  orations  fmelt 
"  of  the  lamp;"  *'  In  troth,"  fays  he, 
*^  there  is  great  difference  between  the  things 
"  that  I  and  you  do  by  lamp-light:"  where^ 
fore  there  is  no  fear  left  learning  fhould  expel 
bufinefs  ;  nay,  rather  it  refcues  and  defends 
the  mind  from  idlenefs  and  pleafure,  which 
otherwife  by  degrees  are  apt  to  fteal  in, 
to  the  prejudice  of  both  bufmefs  as  well  a? 
Jearning. 

As  to  the  objedion  that  letters   under- 
mine the  reverence  of  laws  and  government, 
it  is  mere  calumny,  and  has  not  the  proba- 
ble appearance  of  an  accufation.     For  to  fay, 
C  3  that 


22         ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF   LEARNING. 

that  a  blind  obedience  flioiild  be  a  ftronger 
obligation  than  a  rational  duty,  is  the  fame 
as  to  affirm,  that  a  blind  man  with  a  guide 
treads  lurer  than  he  that  has  the  ufe  of  light 
and  eyes.  Since  without  all  controverfy, 
the  arts  foften  the  manners,  make  them 
tender,  obfequious,  pliable,  and  du£llle  to 
the  commands  of  power ;  but  ignorance 
makes  them  contumacious,  refra6lory,  and 
mutinous:  and  this  appears  clearly  by 
hif{:ory,confideringthat  the  mofl  unlearned, 
rude,  and  barbarous  times,  have  been  mofl 
fubjecl  to  tumults,  feditions,  and  changes. 

With  refpeft  to  the  judgment  of  Caio 
the  Cenfor,  I  ihall  only  fay,  that  he  was 
juflly  punifhed  for  his  blafphemy  againft 
learning;  for  when  he  was  pail  threefcore 
years  of  age,  he  was  taken  with  an  extreme 
defire  to  go  to  fchool  again,  to  learn  the 
Greek  Tongue,  that  he  might  underftand 
the  Greek  authors  ;  which  demonftrates,  that 
his  form^er  cenfure  of  the  Grecian  learning, 
was  rather  an  aife6led  gravity,  than  the  in- 
ward fenfe  of  his  own  opinion. 

Though  VirgUm  the  above  cited  verfes  took 
51  fancy  to  infult  the  world,inafferting  to  the 

Romans 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.        73 

Romani  a  fuperlority  in  the  arts  of  empire  ; 
refignlng  to  Greece  thofe  of  genius  and  tafle, 
as  popular  and  fervile  ;  yet  it  is  manifeft, 
that  the  Rotnans  never  afcended  to  the  pin- 
nacle of  empire,  till  the  time  they  had  rifen 
to  the  height  of  arts.  For  in  the  time  of 
the  two  firfl  Ccefars,  men  of  the  greatefl 
perfe6lion  in  the  art  of  government,  there 
lived  contemporaries  ;  the  beil:  poet,  Firgilius 
Maro\  the  befl:  hiftorian,  'Thus  Lhius;  the 
befl  antiquary,  Marcus  Varro ;  and  the 
beft,  or  fecond  beft  orator,  Marcus  Cicero  y 
the  greatefl  men  each  in  their  faculties,  in 
the  memory  of  man. 

Lastly,  for  the  accufation  oi  Socrates^ 
I  fhall  only  fay,  the  time  muft  be  remem- 
bered, when  it  was  profecuted  ;  namely, 
under  the  thirty  tyrants,  of  all  mortals  the 
moft  bloody,  wicked,  and  unworthy  of 
government :  which  revolution  of  ftate 
and  times  was  no  fooner  over,  but  the  fame 
Socrates^  whom  they  had  made  a  crimi- 
nal, was  now  ranked  among  the  Heroes ; 
his  memory  illuftrated  and  crowned  with 
all  honours  divine  and  human;  and  thofe 
difcourfes  of  his,  before  adeemed  the 
C  4.  cor- 


24        ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

corrnption  of  morals,  were  celebrated  by 
all  pofterlty  for  moil: ,  fovereigii  medicines 
ormiiid  and  manners,  .  Let  this  ferve  for 
an'fwer  to  politicians  who  in  their  fuperclli- 
ous  fe verity,  or  in  their  counterfeit  gravity, 
huye  perfumed  to  throw  their  reproaches 
and  affronts  upon  learning. 


OF  THE  POVERTY  OF  THE  LEARNED,  $cc. 

TVrOW  wc  are  come  to  the  third  fort  of 
difcredit,  that  refults  to  learning  from 
learned  men  themfelves,  which  adheres  more 
clofely  than  the  reft,  and  derives  its  origin 
either  from  their  fortune,  their  manners,  or 
the  nature  of  their  ftudies.  The  firft  of 
which  is  out  of  their  power;  the  fecond 
accidental,  and  not  to  the  purpofe;  fothat 
the  third  only  feems  properly  to  fall  under 
inquiry.  Yet  becanfe  the  debate  in  hand  is 
not  fo  much  concerning  the  true  weight  of 
things,,  as  of  popular  opinion,  it  will  not  be 

amifs 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.  25 

amlfs  to  iniinuate  fomewhat  alfoofthe  two 
others. 

The  derogations  therefore,  and  dlmuiu- 
tions  which  learning  futfers  fi"om  the  for- 
tune of  learned  men,  are  taken  either  from 
their  poverty  of  living,  their  obfcure  courfc 
of  life,  or  from  the  meannefs  of  the  employ-r 
ments  wherein  they  are  converfant. 

As  to  poverty  which  happens  to  learned 
men,  w^ho  commonly  begin  wdth  little,  and 
do  i;iot  grow  rich  lb  faft  as  other  men,  who 
mind  nothing  but  intereft,  it  were  advifable 
to  leave  the  theme   in  praife   of  it,  to  the 
'  Mendicant  Friars  to  adorn  ;  to  whom  Machi" 
/7t;^/ attributed  much,  when  he  faid  ;  "  That 
"  the  kingdom  of  the  priefts  had  long  fince 
"  been  at  an  end,  if  reverence  towards  the 
*'  poverty  of  friars  and  monks,    had    not 
"  compenfated  for  the  luxury  and  excefs  of 
f '  prelates*'*    So  may  a  man   fay,  that  the 
felicity    and    magnificence  of  princes  and 
great  perfons  had  poflibly  long  ago  funk  into 
barbarifm,    if  they  had  not  been   obliged  to 
thofe  poor  learned  men,  for  the  civility  and 
honour  of  life.    But  without  any  fuch  hunt- 
ing after  encomiums,  it  is  worthy  obfervation 

what 


26  ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF   LEARNING. 

what  a  facred  and  venerable  thing  poverty  it- 
felf  was  efteemed,  for  fome  ages,  among 
the  Romans,  which  neverthelefs  was  a  ftate 
without  paradoxes.  For  thus  faith  ^itus 
Livms  in  his  introdu£lion  ;  "  Either  my 
*'  affedion  to  the  work  I  have  undertaken 
*'  deceives  me,  or  never  was  there  Common- 
."  wealth  either  more  mighty  than  the 
*'  Roma7i,  more  holy  and  devout,  more  rich- 
"  ly  furnifhed  with  good  precedents,  or 
'*  which  avarice  and  excefs  fo  late  invaded  ; 
**  and  w^herein  poverty  and  parfimony  were 
*'  fo  greatly  and  folong  honoured.  In  fhort, 
"  the  more  their  indigence,  the  lefs  they 
*«  defired." 

After  the  Rowan  flate  had  degenerated, 
we  read,  that  when  drfar  the  didator  pro- 
feiTeda  reftoration  of  the  ruined  ftate,  one  of 
his  confidents  told  him,  that  the  moft  com- 
pendious way  to  his  defign  would  be  to 
take  away  the  efleem  of  riches.  "  But,"  fiys 
he,  "  thefe,  and  all  other  evils  will  ceafe, 
"  together  with  the  reputation  of  money,  if 
"  neither  offices,  nor  any  other  things  that 
''•  commonly  appear  fo  defirable,  be  expofed 
''  to  fale." 

To 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.  27 

To  conclude,  as  it  was  truly  laid,  that  blufli- 
ing  was  the  colour  of  virtue,  though  fome 
times  it  comes  from  vice,  fo  you  may  truly 
fay,  that  poverty  is  the  fortune  of  virtue, 
though  fometimes  it  proceeds  from  luxury 
and  mifmanagement.  Surely  this  is  Solomon  s 
judgment ;  "  He  that  hafleth  to  be  rich, 
"  fliall  not  be  innocent ;"  and  his  precept, 
"  Buy  the  truth,  and  fell  it  not;  alfo 
*'  knowledge  and  prudence :"  judging  it 
right  and  good,  that  riches  fhould  be  em- 
ployed  to  get  learning,  not  learning  applied 
to  hoard  riches. 

To  what  purpofe  fhould  we  fpeak  of  the 
obfcurity  of  hfe,  which  is  objeded  to  learned 
men  ?  It  is  a  theme  fo  trite  to  extol  leifure 
and  retirement,  not  accompanied  with  (loth 
and  luxury,  before  a  civil  and  adllve  life, 
for  fecurity,  liberty,  fweetnefs,  dignity,  or 
at  leaft  freedom  from  indignities,  that  no 
man  handles  this  fubjedt,  but  handles  it 
well.  Ifhallonly  add,  that  learned  men 
lying  clofe  in  ftates,  and  not  living  in  the 
eyes  of  men,  are  like  the  images  of  Qijius 
and  Brutus^  of  which,  not  being  carried  as 
many  others  were  at  the  funeral  of  Julia, 

Tacitus 


25  ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF   LEARNING, 

I'acltus^  faith,  Eo  ipfo  frafulgebant^  quod  nan 
vifebantur ;  they  out-fhone  the  reft,  for  this 
very  reafon,  becaufe  they  did  not  appear. 

With  refped  to  the  meannefs  of  em- 
ployment afcribed  to  learned  men,  the 
chief  argument  to  prove  it  is,  that  the 
education  of  children  and  youth  is  allotted 
to  them;  thedifefleem  of  which  age,  becaufe 
it  is  that  of  leafl  authority,  is  caft  upon  the 
mafte'rs  themfelves.  But  how  unjufl:  this. 
difparagementis,if  it  be  weighed,  not  accord- 
ing to  popular  opinion  but  found  judgment ; 
we  may  form  an  idea  from  hence,  that  men 
are  more  careful  what  they  put  into  a  new 
veflel,  than  into  a  veflel  feafoned;  and  are 
more  curious  what  mould  they  lay  about  a 
young  plant,  than  one  in  maturity ;  from 
whence  it  is  evident  that  the  pri'ncipal  care  is 
about  the  firft  formation  of  things.  Obferve 
the  following  fentence  of  thePvabbies; "  Your 
•'  young  men  fhall  fee  vifions,  and  your 
^'  old  men  fhall  dream  dreams."  From  this 
text  they  gather,  that  youth  is  the  worthier 
age,  as  revelation  is  more  clear  by  viiions, 
than  by  dreams.  And  this  is  well  v/orth 
remarking,  that  however  pedagogues  have 

run 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.         29 

run  the  derifion  of  theatres,  as  the  apes  of 
tyranny,  and  that  the  modern  times  have 
been  negligent  and  afleep  in  the  choice  of 
fchool-mafters  and  tutors;  yet  it  has  been 
an  antient  complaint,  delivered  down  even 
fi-om  the  befl  and  wifefl:  ages,  that  flates  are 
too  diligent  as  to  their  laws,  and  too  neg- 
ligent in  point  of  education.  Which 
mofl  noted  part  of  antient  difcipllne,  has  in 
ibme  meafure  been  revived  in  the  colleges 
of  the  J^///j,  whofeinduftry  and  acutenefs, 
when  I  confider,  as  well  in  the  culture  of 
learning,  as  in  the  formation  of  manners, 
that  of  Agejilaus  touching  PharnabazuSy 
comes  into  my  mind,  'talis  cum  fis,  utinam 
nojier  eps\  "•  fmce  thou  art  fo  excellent,  I 
*'  wifh  thou  wert  one  of  us."  And  thus 
much  for  the  difcredit  drawn  from  the  for- 
•tunes,  and  condition  of  learned  men. 

As  to  the  manners  of  learned  men,  that 
is  a  thing  rather  perfonal,  than  belonging 
to  their  ftudies ;  and  no  doubt  there  arefouad 
amongfc  them,  as  in  all  orders  and  pro fef- 
fions  of  life,  bad  as  well  as  good  ;  but  yet  it 
is  neverthelefs  true  what  is  afferted;  Jbire 
Jlud'ia  in  }vhres^  that  fludies  have  an  influence 

upon 


30         ON   THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

upon  the  manners  ;  and  that  letters,  unlefs 
they  meet  with  very  depraved  difpofitions, 
reform  nature  mtirely,  and  change  it  for  the 
better. 

But  upon  an  attentive,  and  impartial 
review,  I  can't  find  any  difgrace  that  adheres 
to  learning,  from  the  manners  of  learned 
men,  unlefs  it  be  imputed  to  them  as  a 
fault,  which  Demojlhenes^  Cicero,  Cato  the 
fecond,  Seneca,  and  many  more  are  accufed 
of,  that  becaufe  the  times  they  read  of  are 
commonly  better  thanthofe  they  live  in;  and 
the  duties  taught  better  than  the  duties  prac- 
tifed,  they  contend  beyond  what  is  expedient, 
to  reduce  the  corruption  of  manners  to  moral 
reditude  and  the  recelvedopinions  of  the  fage ; 
orimpofe  the  laws  of  antient  feverity  upon 
diflblute  times,  the  bad  policy  of  which  they 
have  experienced  in  their  own  walks.  For 
Solon  when  he  was  asked,  whether  he  had 
given  his  citizens  the  beft  laws;  '*  The  beft," 
fays  he,  *'  of  fuch  as  they  were  difpofed  to 
«'  receive.**  So  Plato,  finding  that  the  man- 
ners of  his  country-men  were  too  corrupt 
for  him  to  bear,  abftained  from  all  public 
offices,  faying;  "  That  a  man's  country  is 

*'  to 


ON   THE.  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.         Ql 

"  to  be  dealt  with  as  his  parents ;   that  is, 
*'  by  perliiaiion,  not  violence;   by  humbly 
**  entreating,  not  contelHng."  And  Cafar's 
coiinfellor  puts   in   the  fame  plea,  faying, 
Non  ad  Vetera  InJIituta  revocans,  qu^  jam  pri- 
de in  corrupt  IS    Mo  rib  us   ludihrio  Junt:    "  Not 
*'  reducing  things   to  the   antient  cuftoms, 
*'  which  have  been  long fmce  laughed  at  from 
'*  the  degeneracy  of  our  manners."     Cicero 
to    Atticus:    "  Cato;'    fays  he,   "  has  mofl 
''  excellent  notions,  but  he  fometimes  hurts 
"  the  ftate;    for  he  fpeaks  as  in  the  com- 
"  mon-weaJth  of  Flato,  and  not  as  in  the 
"  dregs  of  Romulusr  The   fame  Cicero,  by 
a  loft   interpretation,  excufes   the  rigid  fay- 
ings   of    the   philofophers :    ''  Thofe  very 
"  preceptors  and  teachers,  fays  he,  feem  to 
"  have  ft  retched  out  the  line  and  limits  of 
"  duties  beyond  what  nature  required;  that 
"  when  we   had  ft  rained  our   foul  to  reach 
"   the  higheft  point  of  perfedion,  we  might 
'*  however  reft  and  make  a  ftand,  where  it 
"  is  meet."  And  yet  he himfelf might  have 
faid,  Monitisfum  minor  ipfe  meis;  '<  I  am  not 
"  able  to  follow  my  own   advice:"  for  he 
ftumbled  at  the  fame  ftone,  though  not  in  fo 
extreme  a  degree. 

Another 


3^         ON   THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

Another  fault  which  is  perhaps  deferv- 
edly  objeded  to  learned  men,  is  this,  that 
they  have  iacrificed  their  own  fortunes,  or 
fafeties  to  the  honour  and  intereft  of  their 
country ;  for  fo  fiiid  Demojlhenes  to  his 
Athcniam\  "  My  counfels,  fays  he,  if  ye 
"note  it  well,  are  nof  fuch  whereby' I 
"  may  grow  great  amongft  you,  and  your- 
''  felves  become  littlfe  amongft  the  Grecians ; 
"  but  of  that  nature  as  are  fometimes  not 
"fafe  for  me  to  give,  but  always  good  for 
*'  you  to  follow.'*  So  Seneca^  after  he  had 
confccrated  that  ^'mquenniiim  Neronis  (five 
years  of  A/Vo)  to  the  eternal  glory  of  learned 
preceptors,  held  on  his  courfe  of  free  and  bold 
counfelto  his  mafl:er,  now  grown  extremely 
corrupt  by  all  manner  of  vice,  to  his  own 
great  peril,  and  at  laft  ruin.  Neither  can  it 
beotherwife,  for  learning  feafons  mens  minds 
with  a  true  fenfe  of  their  own  frailty,  and 
inftability  of  fortune,  the  dignity  of  their 
foul,  and  of  their  own  duty;  which  things 
when  they  think  of,  they  can  by  no  means 
perfuade  themfelves,  that  any  advancement 
of  their  own  fortunes  can  be  fet  down  as  a  true 
and  worthy  end  of  their  being.  Wherefore 
they  live,  as  perfons  ready  to  give  up  their  ac- 
count toGod,andco  their  mafters  underGod, 

whether 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.         ^3 

whether  kings  or  ftates,  in  this  form  of 
words,  Ecce  tibl  lucrifec'r,  "  Behold  I  have 
'■*  gained  for  thee;  "  and  not  in  that,  Ecce 
mihi  lucrifeci,  "  Behold  I  have  gained  for 
myfelf."  But  the  herd  of  politicians,  that 
have  not  their  thoughts  trained  up  and 
eftablifhed  in  the  dddlrine  of  duties,  and  the 
contemplation  of  univerfal  good,  refer  all 
things  to  themfelves,  carrying  themfelves 
as  if  they  were  the  center  of  the  world,  and 
that  the  concurrence  of  all  interefls  ought  to 
center  in  them,  and  their  fortunes  ;  never 
troubling:  their  heads  what  becomes  of  the 
fhip  of  the  republick,  though  toft  by  tem- 
pefts,  provided  they  can  but  retreat  and  fave 
themfelves  and  their  own  fortune. 

On  the  contrary,  men  who  feel  the  weight 
of  duty,  and  underftand  the  limits  of  felf- 
love,  make  good  their  places  and  ftations, 
though  with  peril.  And  if  they  chance  to 
fland  m  feditions  and  alterations  of  govern- 
ment, it  is  not  to  be  attributed  to  any  atts, 
or  verfatile  temporifing  difpolitions  in  them, 
but  to  that  reverence,  which  probity  extorts 
even  from  enemies.  But  as  to  conftancy  of 
faith,  and  tender  fenfe  and  religious  obferv- 
VoL.   /I.  D  ation 


34        ON  THE  DISCREDIT  QF  LEARNING. 

ation  of  duty,  which  erudition  does  certain- 
ly plant  in  the  minds  of  men,  however  for- 
tune may  fometimes  tax  them,  or  politi- 
cians, from  corrupt  principles,  condemn 
them,  yet  they  will  certainly  carry  a  pub- 
lic commendation  from  all  men  ;  fo  that  in 
this  point,  there  needs  no  long  defence. 

Another  fault  is  common  with  learned 
men,  and  which    may    fooner  be   excufed 
than  denied,  that  they  do  not  eafily  apply 
and    accommodate    themfelves    to    perfons, 
with  whom  they  negotiate,  or  live  :  which 
defeat  arifes  from  two  caufes  :  the  firft  is  the 
greatnefs  of  their  foul,  upon  the  account  of 
which  they  can  hardly  ftoop  to  the  obferv- 
ance  of  any  one  man.  It  is  a  fpeech  for  a  lover, 
not  for  a  wife  man,  Satis  magnum  alter  alterl 
*Theatrumfimus,  ''  We  are  a  theatre  of  plea- 
"  fure  and   entertainment,    large  enough, 
*<  the  one  to  the  other.  "  Neverthelefs  I  fhall 
grant  that  he  who  cannot  contrail  the  fight 
of  the  mind,  like  that  of  the  eye,  as  well  as 
dilate  it,  is  deflitute  of  a  notable  faculty  for 
the  management  of  bufmefs.     But  the  fecond 
caufe  is  the  probity  and  fimplicity  of  their 
manners ;  which  argues   choice  and  judg- 
ment, 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT   OF  LEARNING         55 

meiit,  not  defeat  and  inability  in  them.  For 
the  true  and  juft  bounds  of  obiervance  to- 
wards any  perfon,  extends  no  further,  than 
fo  to  underftand  his  temper,  as  to  be  able  to 
convQrfe  with  him  without  offence  ;  and  to 
affifl:  him,  with  counfel,  and  in  the  mean 
time  to  take  care  of  ourfelves  in  all  points  : 
but  to  fpeculate  into  another  man's  affe6l- 
ions,  to  the  end  we  may  work  him,  wind 
him,  and  turn  him  about  at  pleafure;  is  not 
the  part  of  an  ingenuous  nature,  but  of  a 
crafty  man  ;  which,  as  in  friendfhip,  is 
w^ant  of  integrity,  fo  towards  princes  or 
fuperiors,  is  want  of  duty.  In  the  Leva?it,  it 
is  accounted  a  heinous  offence  to  gaze  and 
fix  their  eyes  upon  their  princes;  which  in  the 
outward  ceremony  indeed  is  barbarous, 
but  in  the  moral,  good :  for  it  becomes  not 
fubje6ls,  by  curious  obfervation,  to  pierce 
and  penetrate  into  the  hearts  of  Kings, 
which  the  fcripture  declares  to  be  hifcrutable. 

There  is  yet  another  fault  (with  which 
I  will  conclude  this  part)  often  imputed  to 
learned  men  ;  namely,  that  in  fmall  and  out- 
ward matters,  as  countenance,  gefture,  gait, 
ordinary  difcourfe,  &c.  they  fail  many  times 
D  2  in 


^6        ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

in  obferving  decency  ;  from  whence  ignorant 
men  make  a  judgment  from  thofe  minute 
and  trivial  mifcarriages,  that  their  errors 
mufl:  be  great  in  the  management  of  more; 
important  matters.  But  this  confequence 
generaHy  deceives  them  ;  therefore  let  them 
know,  that  l^hemiftocles  has  given  their  an- 
fwer,  who  being  asked  to  touch  a  lute, 
anfwered  arrogantly,  but  very  appofitely,  to 
the  purpofe  in  hand  ;  "  That  he  could  not 
*'  fiddle  indeed,  but  he  knew  well  enough, 
**  by  what  means  a  fmall  town  might  be- 
*'  come  a  great  ftate." 

And  there  are,  no  doubt,  many  Angular- 
ly fkilful  in  the  arts  of  policy,  who  not- 
withftanding  are  ftrangely  at  a  lofs  in  com- 
mon life  and  ordinary  matters  of  no  weight. 
Such  fcoffers  alfo  are  to  be  referred  to  Plato's 
eulogy  of  his  mafter  Socrates,,  whom  he  com- 
pared to  the  gally-pots  of  apothecaries  on 
the  out-fides  of  which  were  drawn  apes, 
owls,  and  grotefque  figures  ;  but  contained 
within,  precious  liquors,  and  noble  medi- 
cines ;  acknowledging,  that  to  vulgar  capa- 
city,  and  popular  report,  he  was  not  without 
fomefuperficial levities,  and  even  deformities; 

but 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.         37 

but  was  inwardly  replenllhed  with  moft 
excellent  faculties  and  virtues.  So  much 
for  the  manners  of  learned  men. 

In  the  mean  time,  I  think  it  neceffary  to 
notice,  that  I  intend  nothing  lefs  than  to 
patronize  certain  abje£l  and  bafe  pradioes  of 
profeffors  of  learning,  whereby  they  have 
dlfcredlted  both  themfelves  and  letters: 
fuch  as  were,  in  the  latter  age  of  the  Roman 
flate,  certain  trencher-philofophers,  in  the 
families  of  wealthy  perfons,  whom  you 
may  not  improperly  C2\\  folemn  Parafites: 
one  of  them  Luc'ian  makes  a  humourous 
defcription  of;  whom  a  noble  matron  would 
have  to  carry  her  lap-dog  in  the  coach 
with  her;  which  he  doing  officiouily,  but 
aukwardly,  the  page  fneeringly  faid,  "^  i 
"  am  afraid  our  philofopher,  ofaftoic,  will 
«'  turn  cynic." 

But  above  all  the  reft,  nothing  has  fo 
much  prejudiced  the  dignity  of  letters,  as 
the  grofs  and  fcandalous  flattery,  to  which 
many,  and  thofe  not  unlearned,  have  pro- 
flituted  their  wits  and  pens,  transforming 
D  ^  Hecuba 


38        ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

Hecuba  into  Helena,  and  Faufilnamto  Lucretia, 
as  Du -Bart as  lays. 

Neither,  do  I  much  commend  that  re- 
ceived cuftom  of  dedicating  books  to  pat- 
rons ;  for  books  (fuch  as  are  worthy  of  that 
name)  ought  to  have  no  patrons  but  truth  and 
reafon.  The  c uflomofthe  an  tients  was  better, 
who  were  ufed  to  dedicate  their  writings  to 
none  but  friends  and  equals;  or  to  title 
their  treatifes  with  the  names  of  fuch 
friends:  if  they  dedicated  to  kings,  or 
great  perfons,  it  was  then  only  done  when 
the  argument  of  the  book  was  fit  for  fuch  a 
perfon.  But  thefe  may  dcferve  rather 
reprehenfion  than  defence. 

Nor  do  I  fay  this,  as  if  I  condemned 
learned  men  for  applying  themfelves  fome- 
times  to  men  of  fortune  and  power :  for  to 
one  that  afked  in  mockery,  "  How  it  came 
*'  to  pafs  that  philofophers  were  the  fol- 
*'  lowers  of  rich  men,  and  not  rich  men  of 
*'  philolophers  ;  "  the  anfwer  that  Diogenes 
made  was  right  and  iliarp;  "  That  it  was, 
*'  becaufe  philofophers  knew  well  what 
<^  they  had  need  of,  but  rich  men  did  not." 

Like 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.         S9 

Like  this,  is  that  of  Arijlippus^  when  having 
a  petition  to  Dionyjtus,  and  no  ear  given  to 
him,  he  threw  himfelf  at  his  feet  in  the  man- 
ner of  an  adorer,  upon  which,  at  laft,  he 
gave  him  the  hearing,  and  granted  his  peti- 
tion :  but  a  httle  after,  fome  perfon,  tender 
of  the  honour  and  credit  of  philofophy, 
reproved  Arijiippus  for  offering  the  pre- 
feffion  of  philofophy  fo  great  an  indignity, 
as  to  fall  at  a  tyrant's  feet  for  fuch  an 
inconfiderable  matter :  to  whom  he  replied, 
*'  That  it  was  not  his  fault,  but  Dionyjius^s, 
"  that  had  his  ears  in  his  feet."  Neither 
was  it  accounted  weaknefs,  but  difcretion 
in  him,  that  fuffered  himfelf  to  be  worfled 
in  a  certain  difputation  with  Adr'ianus Cafar % 
excufing  the  fa<ft ;  "  That  it  was  but  reafoii 
*'  to  yield  to  one  that  commanded  thirty 
"  legion?."  Learned  men,  therefore,  mufl 
not  be  condemned,  when  upon  occafion, 
they  abate  fomewhat  of  their  gravity,  whe- 
ther in  point  of  neceffity,  or  convenience; 
for  though  it  may  feem  mean  and  fervile,  at 
,£rft  fight;  yet  in  a  judgment  truly  made, 
they  will  be  found  to  fubmit  to  the  occafion, 
and  not  to  the  perfon. 

D  4  FROM 


4©      ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 


FROM  THE  STUDIES  OF  THE  LEARNED. 

T  ET  us  now  proceed  to  thofe  errors  and 
vanities,  which  intervene  in  the  (Indies 
of  the  learned,  and  mix  with  them  ;  wherein 
my  defign  is  not  to  juftify  the  errors,  but 
by  a  cenfure  and  feparation  of  them,  to  fift 
out  that  which  is  found  and  folid,  and  to 
dehver  them  from  calumny.  For  we  fee 
it  is  the  cuflom,  efpecially  of  envious  men, 
on  account  of  what  is  corrupt  and  depraved, 
to  traduce  alfo  that  which  is  untainted,  and 
has  retained  its  flate ;  as  the  heathens  in  the 
primitive  church  ufed  to  blemifli  the  chrif- 
tians  with  the  faults  and  corruptions  of  the 
heretics.  Neverthelefs,  I  purpofe  not  to 
make  any  exa6l  animadverfion  upon  the  er- 
rors and  impediments  arifing  from  learning, 
which  are  more  fecret  and  remote  from 
vulgar  capacity ;  but  only  to  fpeak  to  fuch 
as  fall  under  common  and  popular  obferva- 
tion,  or  at  leafl  do  not  recede  far  from  it. 

I  find  there  are  chiefly  three  vanities  in 
learning,    which  have  principally  given  a 

handle 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.         4I 

handle  to  the  traducing  of  it ;  for  we  efteem 
thofe  things  vain  which  are  either  falfe  or 
frivolous,  in  which  there  is  neither  truth 
nor  ufe  :  thofe  perfons  alio  we  efteem  vain 
and  light  who  are  either  credulous  in  things 
falfe,  or  curious  in  thofe  of  little  ufe.  And 
curiofity  is  either  in  matter  or  w^ords ;  that 
is,  when  either  labour  is  fpent  in  vain  mat- 
ters, or  too  much  pains  taken  about  delicacy 
of  words  ;  wherefore  it  feems  agreeable  as 
w^ell  to  right  reafon,  as  to  approved  experi* 
ence,  to  fet  down  three  diflempers  of  learn- 
ing: the  firft  is  fantaftic  learning;  the 
fecond,  contentious  learning;  the  third,  or- 
namental and  delicate  learning.  Or  thus  • 
vain  imaginations,  vain  altercations,  vain 
afFedations;  and  with  the  laft  I  ihall  begin. 


DELICATE    LEARNING. 

The  diftemper  feated  in  fuperfiuity  and 
profufenefs  of  fpeech,  which  in  different 
periods  of  antiquity  was  held  in  fome  efteem, 
about  Luther  s  time  prevailed  wonderfully. 
The  principal  reafon  was,  the  heat  and  effi- 
cacy 


42      ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING, 

cacy  of  preaching,  to  footh  and  entice  the 
people,  which  about  that  time  flourifhed 
greatly;  and  this  required  a  popular  kind  of 
expreffion.  Another  reafon  was,  the  hatred 
and  contempt  which  grew  up  in  thofe  very 
times  towards  the  School-men,  who  ufcd  a 
very  different  ftile  and  form  of  exjpreffion, 
taking  an  exceflive  liberty  to  coin  new  and 
harfli  terms,  without  regard  to  the  ornament 
and  elegancies  of  fpeech,  to  avoid  circum- 
locution, and  deliver  their  fenfe  and  con- 
ceptions with  acutenefs ;  after  which  greater 
care  began  to  be  taken  of  words  than  matter ; 
mofl  affecting  rather  neatnefs  of  phrafe, 
Toundnefs  of  period,  the  mufical  cadence  of 
the  claufes,  and  the  fparkling  of  tropes  and 
figures,  than  the  weight  of  matter,  the 
foundnefs  of  argument,  the  life  of  invention, 
or  exadtnefs  of  judgment.  Then  firft  flou- 
rifhed  the  luxuriant  and  watery  vein  of 
Oforius,  the  Portugal  Bifhop.  Then  did 
Sturmius  fpend  fuch  infinite  and  anxious 
pains  upon  Cicero  the  Orator,  and  Hermo- 
genes  the  Rhetorician.  Thus  did  our  Car 
and  Afcham,  in  their  le£tures  and  writings, 
€Xtol  Cicero  zn^DemoJlhenes  even  to  the  ikies, 
and  invite  young   men  to  this  polite  and 

flourilh- 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF '"LEARNING.         43 

flourishing  kind  of  learning.  So  did 
Erafmus  take  occafion  to  bring  in  that  fcoff- 
ingeccho,  Decern  Annas,  cy.fumpfi  in  legendo 
Cicero?ie  :  *'  I  have  fpent  ten  years  in  reading 
"  Cicero:"  to  which  the  eccho  anfwered, 
"  One,  afs."  Then  the  learning  of  the 
School-men  began  to  be  utterly  defpifed,  as 
rough  and  barbarous.  In  fhort,  the  chief 
inclination  and  bent  of  thofe  times  was  ra- 
ther to  copioufnefs  than  weight. 

Here  then  we  fee  the  £rft  corruption  of 
learning,  when  men  fludy  words,  \nd  not 
matter;  of  which  though  I  have  brought 
late  examples  only,  ytt  fuch  falfe  tafle  pre- 
vailed more  or  lefs  in  times  pail,  and  will 
again  hereafter.  Now,  it  is  not  poffible, 
but  this  very  circumflance  fhould  tend  much 
to  the  difcredit  of  learning,  even  with  the 
ignorant  vulgar,  when  they  fee  learned 
mens  writings,  like  the  firfl:  letter  of  a  patent, 
which,  though  it  be  drawn  out  with  various 
turns  and  flouriflies  of  the  pen,  yet  is  but 
a  fingle  letter.  And  to  mc,  indeed,  Pig^ 
maHon's  frenzy  feems  a  very  appofite  repre- 
fentation  and  emblem  of  this  vanity;  for 
what  elfe  are  words  but  the  images  of  things : 

fo 


44        ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

fo  that  unlefs  they  be  animated  with  the 
fpirit  of  reafon,  to  fall  in  love  with  them, 
is  like  falling  in  love  with  a  picture. 

It  is  a  thina:  not  haftilv  to  be  condemned 
for  a  man  to  illuftrate  and  fmooth  the  ob- 
fcurities  and  roughnefs  of  philofophy,  with 
the  fplendor  of  words ;  of  which  we  have 
great  examples  in  Xenophon^  Cicero,  Seneca^ 
Plutarch,  and  even  Flato  himfelf;  for  the 
utility  of  it  is  great:  and  although  this 
may  be  fome  hindrance  to  a  fevere  inquifi- 
tion  of  truth,  and  a  deep  fludy  of  philofophy, 
becaufe  it  is  too  early  fatisfadory  to  the 
mind,  and  quenches  the  thirft  and  ardor  of 
further  fearch  ;  yet,  if  a  man  applies  his 
learning  to  civil  ufes,  as  conference,  coun- 
fel,  perfuaiion,  argument,  and  the  like,  he 
will  find  all  that  hedefires,  prepared  and  fet 
out  to  his  hand,  in  fuch  authors.  However 
the  excefs  of  this  is  fo  juflly  contemptible, 
that  as  Hercules,  when  he  faw  in  a  temple 
the  image  of  Adonh,  Fenus's  minion,  faid 
in  indignation,  Nil  facri  es:  "  Thou  art 
**  nothing  facred  :"  fo  all  Herculean  cham- 
pions in  learning,  that  is,  the  more  labo- 
rious 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.         45 

rious  QPxd  fleady  enquii'ers  into  truth,  will 
naturally  defpife  luch  delicacies  and  fop- 
peries, as  having  nothing  divine  in  them. 

There  is  fomething  more  found  in  another 
kindof  llile,  though  not  altogether  exempt 
from  vanity,  which  near  about  the  fame  time 
fucceeded  this  copioufnefs  and  fuperfluity  of 
fpeech.  It  confifts  altogether  in  this:  that 
the  words  be  pointed,  the  fentences  concife, 
the  contexture  of  the  fpeech,  rather  re- 
turning into  itfelf,  than  fpread  and  di- 
lated; fo  it  comes  to  pafs  by  this  artifice, 
that  every  paffage  feems  more  ingenious 
than  indeed  it  is.  Such  a  flile  as  this  w^e 
find  more  extenfively  in  Seneca,  more  mo- 
derately in  Tacitus  and  PUmus  Secimdus ;  and 
not  long  lince  it  began  to  be  pleafing  to  the 
ears  of  our  own  time.  But  this  very  ftile  is 
wont  to  find  acceptance  with  ordinary  ca- 
pacities, fo  as  to  be  a  kind  of  dignity  and 
ornament  to  learning :  neverthelefs,  by  the 
more  exacl  judgment  it  is  defervedly  de- 
fpifed,  and  may  be  fet  down  as  a  diftemper 
of  learning,  fince  it  is  nothing  elfe  but  a 
hunting    after  words,    and  the  finery  and 

quaint- 


46      ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

quaintnefs  of  them.    Thus  much  of  the  firfl 
diftemper  of  learning. 


CONTENTIOUS   LEARNING. 


Now  follows  the  diftemper  m  the  matter 
itfelf,  which  we  placed  fecond,  and  defigned 
by  the  name  of  contentious  fubtilty  :  and 
this  is  rather  worfe  than  that  juft  treated 
of;  for  as  fubflantial  matter  excels  every 
ornament  of  words,  fo,  on  the  contrary, 
vanity  of  matter  is  more  odious  than  vanity 
of  words.  Wherein  that  reprehenfion  of 
St.  Paul  m^iy  refer,  as  well  to  the  following 
times  as  to  his  own  age;  and  feems  to  re- 
fpe6l  not  only  divinity,  but  fciences  alfo : 
*'  Avoid  profane  novelties  of  words,  and 
'^  oppofition  of  fciences  falfely  fo  called." 
Tim.  i.  V.  20.  For  in  thefe  words  he  al- 
ledges  two  marks  and  badges  of  fufpeded 
fcience  ?  the  firft  is  the  novelty  and  ftrange- 
nefs  of  terms ;  the  other,  the  rigour  and 
ftri^lnefs  of  pofitions,  which  mufh  needs 
occafion  oppofition,  and  then  altercations 
and  queflions, 

Cer- 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.       47 

Certainly  many  natural  fubftances, 
which  are  folid  and  entire,  lb  long  as  they 
are  in  a  flate  of  perfect  ion,  do  frequently 
corrupt  and  pafs  into  worms;  after  the  fame 
manner,  found  and  folid  knowledge  often- 
times putrifies  and  diflblvcs  into  minute 
fubtilties,  like  worms  which,  feem  to  have 
a  kind  of  motion  and  quicknefs  in  them, 
but  are  infipid  and  of  no  ufe. 

This  kind  of  unfound  and  felf-corrupt- 
Ing  learning  prevailed  chiefly  among  the 
School-men,  who  having  abundance  of  lel- 
fure,  fharp  and  ftrong  wits,  but  fmall  vari- 
ety of  reading  (their  underftandings  being 
confined  to  the  waitings  of  a  few  authors^ 
efpecially  Anfiotle^  their  diftator,  as  their 
perfonswere  to  the  cells  of  monafteries)  and 
for  "the  mofl  part  ignorant  of  the  hiflory, 
as  well  of  nature,  as  time,  did,  out  of  no 
great  quantity  of  matter,  but  infinite  agi- 
tation of  wit  and  fpirit,  fpin  out  unto  us 
thofe  moft  laborious  webs  of  learning  which 
are  extant  in  their  books.  For  the  mind  of 
man,  if  it  works  upon  matter,  by  contem- 
plating the  nature  of  things,  and  the  works 
of  God,  is  limited  in  its  operations  by  the 

fubje£l ; 


4?       ON  THE  DISCREDIT   OF  LEARNING*" 

fubje6l;  but  if  it  turns  inward,  and  works 
upon  itfelf,  like  the  fpider  weaving  his  web, 
then  is  it  endlefs,  and  brings  forth  indeed 
cobwebs  of  learning,  admirable  for  finenefs 
of  thread  and  work,  but,  astoufe,  frivolous 
and  of  no  fubflance. 

This     unprofitable     fubtilty,     or    curi- 
ofity,    is    two-fold;    and  is   feen    either  in 
the  fubjedl  itfelf,  fuch  as  is  a  fruitlefs  fpe- 
culation,    or  controverfy,    of    which    kind 
there  are  no  fmall  number,  both  in  divinity 
and  philofophy,  or  in  the  manner  and  me- 
thod of  treating  it ;  which  among  the  School- 
men was  generally  this  :  upon  every  pofition 
or  aflertion    they   formed  objedions,    then 
fol u lions  of  thofe  objedtions;  which,  for  the 
moft  part,  were  only  diftindions :  whereas, 
indeed,  the  ftrength  of  all  fciences,  like  the 
old  man's  faggot,  coniifts  not  in  every  flick 
afunder,  but  in  all  together  united  in  the 
band;    for  the  harmony  of  a  fcience,   that 
is,  when  each  part   mutually  fupports   the 
other,  is,  and  ought  to  be,  the  true  concife 
way  of  confuting  all  the  fmaller  fort  of  ob- 
jections; but,  on  the  other  fide,  if  you  take 
out  every  axiom,  one  by  one  feverally,  you 

may 


OW  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.          4^ 

may  eafilj  diiprove    them,    and   bend   and 
break  rhem  at  pleafure.     So  that  what  was 
fald  o( Seneca^   "  He  breaks  the  weight  of 
*«  matter  bv  the  little  niceties   of  words," 
may   truly   be    faid    of  the    School-men  ; 
"  They  break  the  folidity  of  fclences  by  the 
**   little  niceties  of  queftions."  Would  It  not 
be  better  in  a  fpacious  hall  to  fet  up  one  great 
light,  or  to  hang  up  a  branch  furnifhed  with 
divers  lights,  whereby  all  may  be  feen  at 
once,  than  to  go  up  and  down  with  a  fmall 
watch  candle  into  every  corner?     And  fuch 
is  their  method,  who  do  not  fo  much  endea- 
vour to  llluflrate  truth  by  clear  arguments, 
authorities,  comparifons,  and  examples,  as 
labour  to  take   out   every  minute   fcruple, 
to     anfwer    captious  cavils,     and   to  folve 
doubts  ;    by  this   means   breeding  queftion 
out  of  queftlon,  even  as  in  the  comparlfon 
above  of  the  light,  when  you  carry  it  into 
one  place,  you   forfake  and  darken  all  the 
reft  :  fo  that  the  fable  of  Scylla  expreffes   to 
the  life  this  kind  of  phllofophy,  whofe  face 
and  breaft  refembled  a  beautiful  virgin,  but 
below  they  fay  fhe  was, 

Candida fuccindam  latrant'ihus  Ingu'na  monjh'is. 

Vol,  IL  E  *'  A  beau- 


50       ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING, 

"  A  beauteous  maid  above,  but  magic  arts, 

"  With  barking  4ogs  deform'd  her  nether  parts." 

Dryden-. 


So  you  will  find  certain  general  pofitions 
amongft  the  School-men,  that  are  hand- 
fomely  faid,  and  not  invented  amifs;  but 
when  you  defcend  to  their  diftin£lions  and 
decifions,  inftead  of  a  fruitful  womb,  for 
the  benefit  of  human  life,  they  end  in  mon- 
ftrous  and  barking  queflions. 

Therefore  it  is  no  wonder  if  this  kind 
of  learning  falls  under  even  the  contempt  of 
the  vulgar,  who  are  generally  ufed  to  de- 
fpife  truth  on  account  of  controverfies  raifed 
about  it,  and  think  they  are  all  out  of  the 
way  who  never  meet  :  and  when  they  fee 
the  altercations  of  learned  men  one  with 
another,  about  matters  of  no  moment,  they 
eafily  catch  up  that  faying  of  Dionyjius  of 
Syracufe^  Verba  ifta  funt  fenum  otloforum : 
•*  This  is  nothing  but  the  tattle  of  old  men 
*'  and  women  that  have  nothing  elfe  to 
*'  do."    Notwithflanding  it  is  moll  certain, 

that 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.        ff 

that  if  the  School-men,  to  their  unquench^ 
able  thirfl:  of  truth,  and  continual  working 
of  their  wit,  had  joined  variety  and  multi- 
plicity of  reading  with  contemplation,  they 
would  have  doubtlefs  proved  diflinguifhing 
lights,  to  the  wonderful  advancement  of 
all  arts  and  fciences.  And  fo  much  for 
the  fecond  difeafe  of  learning. 


FANTASTIC    LEARNING. 


For  the  third  difeafe,  which  relates  to 
fahhood  and  untruth,  this  is,  of  all  others, 
the  mofl  pernicious,  as  it  deflroys  the  very 
natufe  and  foul  of  knowledge,  which  is  no- 
thing elfe  but  the  image  of  truth.  For  the 
truth  of  being,  and  that  of  knowing, 
are  all  one  ;  nor  do  they  differ  more  from 
one  another,  than  the  dire6t  beam,  and  the 
beam  refle6led.  This  vice,  therefore,  branch-, 
es  itfelf  into  two  forts  ;  impofture,  and  cre- 
dulity :  this  is  deceived,  that  deceives  ; 
which  although  they  appear  to  be  of  a  dif- 
ferent nature,  the  one  feeming  to  proceed 
from  craft,  the  other  from*  fimplicity,  yet, 
£  2  for 


52      ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

for  the  moft  part,  they  concur.  For  as  the 
verfe  has  it, 

Poreontatorem  fitgltOy  nam  garrulus  idem  eft. 

Intimatnig,  that  an  inqulfitive  perfon  is  a 
pratler  alfo :  fo,  for  the  fame  reafon,  he 
that  is  apt  to  heheve,  is  apt  to  deceive.  As 
we  fee  it  alfo  in  fame  and  rumours,  that  he 
who  eafily  believes  them,  will  as  eafily  aug- 
ment and  add  to  them ;  which  Tacitus  wifely 
hints  in  thefe  words  :  "  They  invent,  and 
**  believe  at  once  :"  fo  great  an  affinity  is 
there  between  a  propenfity  to  deceive,  and 
a  facihty  to  believe. 

This  facility  of  believing,  and  admitting 
all  things,  though  weakly  authorized  or 
warranted,  is  of  two  kinds,  according  to  the 
nature  of  the  fubje6l-matter;  for  we  either 
believe  ftory,  or  matter  of  fa61:,  as  the  law- 
yers fpeak,  or  elfe  matter  of  opinion  and 
pofition.  As  to  the  former  kind,  we  fee 
how  much  this  error  has  difcredited,  and 
derogated  from  fome  ecclefiaftical  hlftories  ; 
which  have  been  too  eafy  in  regiflering  and 
tranfcribing  miracles  wrought  by  martyrs, 
hermits,  anchorites,    and  other  holy  men, 

and 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OFLEARNING.        ^^ 

and  by   their    relics,     fepulchres,    chapels, 
and  images. 

So  in   natural  hiflory  we  may  fee  many 
things  rafhly  and  with  little  choice  or  judg- 
ment, received  and  regiftered,  as  appears  by 
the  writings  of  Pliny,   Cardaftus,    AlhertuSy 
and  divers  of  the  Arabians,  which  are  every 
where  fraught    with    forged    and    fabulous 
ftories ;   and   thofe  not  only  uncertain   and 
untried,  but  notorioufly  falfe,  and  manifeflly. 
convided,    to  the  great   difcredit  of  natu- 
ral philofophy  with  grave  and  fober  men. 
In  which  the  wifdom  and  integrity  of  Arlf- 
totle  fhines  forth ;   who  having  wrote  a  dili- 
gent and  exquliite  hiftory  of  living  creatures, 
has    not   mingled    it    much    with   feigned 
or  fabulous  matter ;  but  rather  than  do  that, 
he  has  caft  all  the  prodigies  which  he  thought 
worthy   recording,    into   one   commentary; 
excellently  difcerning,  that  matter  of  mani- 
feft  truth,  which,   like  a  folld  experimental 
bafis,  might  ferve  as  a  foundation  for  philo- 
fophy and  fciences  to  be  built  upon,  was  not 
unadvifedly  to  be  mingled  with  matter  of 
doubtful  credit;  and  yet,   that  things  rare 
and  ftrange,  which  to  moil  people  feem  in- 
E  3  credible. 


'54      ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

credible,  are  not  wholly  to  be  fuppreffed, 
or  to  be  denied  to  the  records  of  poflerity. 

But  that  other  credulity,  which  is  yielded 
not  to  hiflory  or  reports,  but  to  arts  and 
opinions,  is  likewife  of  two  forts :  either 
when  we  give  too  much  credit  to  the  arts 
themfelves,  or  to  the  authors  in  any  art. 

The  arts  themfelves,    which   have  had 
more  intelligence  and  confederacy  with  ima- 
gination and  belief,    than  with  reafon  and 
demonftration,  arc  chiefly  three  ;  aftrology, 
natural  magic,   and  alchymy ;  the  ends  of 
which  are  noble :  for  aflrology  profefles  to 
difcover  that  correfpondence  which  is  be- 
tween the  fuperior  and  the  inferior  globe  : 
natural  magic  pretends  to  reduce  natural 
philofophy,  from  variety  of  fpeculations,  to 
the  magnitude  of  works :  alchymy  under- 
takes to  feparate  and  extra£l  the  heterogene- 
ous  parts  of  things,  which  are  hid  and  in- 
corporate in  natural  bodies,    and  to  refine 
bodies  themfelves  that  are  flained  and  foiled; 
to  fet  at  liberty  fuch  as  are  bound  and  im- 
prifoned,   and  to  bring  to  perfecftion  fuCh  as 
are  uaripe.     But  the  methods  which  are 

prefume^ 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING        SS 

prefumed  to  lead  to  thefe  ends,  both  In  the 
theory  and  pradice  of  thofe  arts,  are  full  of 
error  and  triflmg;  yet,  furcly,  to  alchymy 
this  right  is  due,  that  it  may  truly  be  com- 
pared to  the  huibandman  In  JEfop,  who, 
being  about  to  depart  this  life,  told  his  fons, 
*'  That  he  had  left  them  a  great  quantity 
*'  of  gold  buried  in  his  vineyard,  but  did 
*'  not  remember  the  particular  place :"  who 
when  they  had  with  fpades  diligently  turned 
up  all  the  vineyard,  gold  indeed  they  found 
none;  however,  by  ftirring  and  digging  the 
mould  about  the  roots  of  their  vines,  they 
had  a  very  great  vintage  the  year  following : 
fo  the  flrenuous  pains  of  chymifts,  about 
making  gold,  have  opened  the  way  to  a  great 
number  of  noble  inventions  and  experiments, 
fingularly  adapted,  as  well  to  the  difclofmg 
of  nature,  as  to  the  ufes  of  human  life. 

Now,  as  for  the  credulity  which  has  in- 
vefted  certain  authors  of  fciences  with  a  kind 
of  didatorial  power  to  give  law,  not  fenato- 
rial  to  give  advice  ;  this  has  been  of  infinite 
hurt  to  fciences,  as  the  principal  caufe  which 
has  depreffed  and  kept  them  fo  low,  that 
they  have  been  without  any  remarkable 
E  4  growth 


56      ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

growth  or  advancement.  In  mechanical 
arts,  the  firft  projectors  have  been  fhort  in 
their  inventions,  and  time  has  fuppHed  and 
perfected  the  reft ;  but  in  fciences,  the  firft 
authors  have  gone  fartheft,  and  time  has 
impaired  and  corrupted  them.  So  we  fee 
artillery,  faiUng,  printing,  were  in  their  be- 
ginnings imperfect,  in  a  manner  without 
form  and  badly  managed;  but,  inprogrefsof 
time,  accommodated  and  refined.  But,  on 
the  contrary,  the  philofophy  and  fciences 
of  Ariftotle,  Plato ^  Democritus,  Hippocrates, 
Euclid^  Arch'nnedeSy  were  of  moft  vigour 
tinder  thofe  very  authors;  and  in  procefs  of 
time  degenerated,  and  loft  much  of  their 
laftre;  for  this  reafon,  that  in  arts  mechani- 
cal, the  wits  of  many  have  contributed  and 
met  in  one,  but,  in  liberal  arts  and  fciences, 
the  wits  of  many  have  yielded  and  fub- 
mitted  to  one,  wliomyethis  followers  many 
times  have  rather  depraved  than  illuftrated  : 
for  as  water  will  not  afcend  higher  than  the 
fpring-head,  from  whence  it  flows,  fo  know- 
ledge derived  from  Anjiotle^  and  exempted 
from  liberty  of  examination,  will  never  rife 
higher  than  the  knowledge  oi  AriJiotle\  and, 
therefore,  though  I  do  not  diflike  the  rule, 

oportet 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT   OF   LEARNIN(j.       5^ 

oportet  difcentem  credere,  "  A  learner  ought 
"  to  believe,"  yet  it  mufl  be  coupled  with 
this:  oportet  jam  do^um  judkiofuo  utl:  *'  He 
*'  that  is  well  informed,  ought  to  make  ufe 
**  of  his  own  judgment."  For  difciples 
owe  their  maflers  only  a  temporary  belief, 
and  a  fufpenlion  of  their  judgment,  till  they 
have  thoroughly  learned  the  arts ;  and  not 
an  abfolute  reiignation  of  their  liberty,  and 
a  perpetual  bondage  of  their  underftanding. 
Therefore,  to  conclude  this  point,  I  will 
fay  no  more  than  this:  let  great  authors 
have  fuch  honour,  as  that  we  do  not  dero- 
gate from  time,  which  is  the  author  of  au-* 
thors,  and  parent  of  truth. 


PREJUDICES  OF  THE  LEARNED. 

TXTE  have  at  length  laid  open  three  dif- 
tempers  or  difeafes  of  learning ;  befides 
which  there  are  fome  other,  rather  peccant 
humours  than  confirmed  difeafes;  which, 
neverthelefs,  are  not  fo  fecret,  but  that  they 
fall  under  a  popular  obfervation  and  cenfure; 
and,  therefore,  are  by  no  means  to  be  pafled 
over.  The 


5^      O^J  rut  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING, 

The  firfl  of  thefe  is  an  afFedation  of  two 
extremes,  antiquity  and  novelty :  where- 
in the  daughters  of  time  take  after  the 
nature  and  malice  of  the  father ;  for  as 
time  devours  his  children,  fo  do  thefe  one 
another,  while  antiquity  envies  new  improve- 
ments, and  novelty  cannot  be  content  to  add 
things  recent,  unlefs  it  utterly  rejedls  the 
old:  furely  the  advice  of  the  Prophet  is  the 
true  direction  in  this  cafe:  *'  Stand  ye  upon 
*'  the  old  paths,  and  fee  where  is  the  good 
*'  and  the  right  way,  and  walk  therein.*' 
Jerem.  vi.  1 6.  Antiquity  deferves  fo  much 
reverence,  that  men  fhould  make  a  flop,  and 
look  about  them  on  every  fide,  to  difcover 
which  is  the  befl  way;  but  when  the  dif- 
covery  is  well  taken,  they  fhould  not  reft 
there,  but  advance  cheerfully ;  for  in  truth, 
antiquity  of  time  is  the  world's  youth.  Cer- 
tainly ours  are  the  ancient  times,  the  world 
being  now  grown  old  ;  and  not  thofe  which 
are  computed,  orpine  retrogadoy  reckoning 
backward  from  our  own  age. 

Another  error,  fpringing  from  the  form- 
er, is  a  fufpicion  and  diffidence,  which  thinks 
that  it  is  not  poffible  to  find  out  any  thing 

now 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.       S9 

now,  which  the  world  could  have  been  fo 
long  without ;  as  if  the  fame  obje6lion  might 
be  made  to  time,  with  which  Luclan  attacks 
yupiter^  and  the  reft  of  the  heathen  Gods ; 
for  he  wonders  they  fhould  beget  fo  many 
children  in  old  time,  and  none  in  his  ;  and 
afks  merrily,  "  Whether  they  were  fuperan- 
"  nuated,    or  retrained  by  the  Papian  law 
*'  made  againfl  old  mens  marriages.'*  So  men 
feem  to  be  apprehenfive,  that  time  is  become 
efete,  and  paft  bearing  children:  whereas, 
on  the  other  hand,  we  may  here  eafily  dif- 
cover  the  levity  and  inconftancy  of  men, 
who,  till  a  thing  is  done,  think  it  impoffible ; 
but,  at  foon  as  it  is  done,  wonder  it  had  not 
been  done  long  before.     Thus  Alexander  s 
expedition  into  AJta  was  judged,  at  firfl,  as 
a  vafl  and  exceeding   difficult  enterprize; 
which,  neverthelefs,  after  it  fucceeded,  Livy 
made  fo  flight  of,  as  to  fay  of  Alexander^ 
^'  He  did  but  bravely  venture  to  defpife  idle 
"  opinions :"    and  the  fame  happened   to 
ColumbuSy  in  the  weftern  navigation :  but,  in 
intelledlual  matters,  this  is  much  more  com- 
mon, as  may  be  feen  in  moft  of  the  propoli- 
tions  in  Euclid,  which,  before  they  are  de- 
paonflrated,  feem  flrange,  and  not  eafily  to 

be 


6a       ON  THE   DISCREDIT   OF   LEARNING 

be  afTentedto;  but,  after  demon ftration,  the 
inind  embraces  them  by  a  kind  of  recogni- 
zance, as  the  lawyers  terrti  it,  as  if  it  had 
underflood  and  known  them  before. 

Another  error,  of  affinity  with  the  form- 
er, is  a  fancy  of  thofe  who  think  that  of  all 
fe6ls  and  ancient  opinions,  after  they  had 
been  examined  and  fifted,  the  bed  were  eflab- 
liftied,and  the  reft  fupprefled;  therefore  they 
conceive,  if  a  man  ihould  begin  his  fearch 
and  examination  a-new,  he  mull  of  courfe 
light  upon  fome  opinions  which  had  been 
rejeded,  and,  after  rejedion,  lofl  and  obli- 
terated; as  if  the  multitude,  or  even  wife 
men,  to  gratify  the  multitude,  did  not  of- 
tener  approve  that  which  is  popular,  than 
that  which  is  more  folid.  For  time  is  of 
the  nature  of  a  river,  which  carries  down 
to  us  things  light  and  buoyant,  but  fmks 
and  drowns  that  which  is  folid  and  weighty* 

Another  error,  different  from  the  reft, 
is,  an  over-early  and  peremptory  redu(5lion 
of  knowledge  into  fyftems,  which,  when- 
ever it  happens,  fciences  receive  little  or  no 
augmentation  :  even  as  young  men,  when 

they 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.        6l 

tliey  are  knit  and  perfectly  fliaped,  fcarce 
grow  any  more  :  fo  knowledge,  as  long  as 
it  is  difperfed  into  aphorifms  and  obferva- 
tions,  may  grow  and  fhoot  up ;  but,  when 
once  it  is  circumfcribed  by  fyftems,  it  may 
by  chance  be  polifhed  and  illuflrated,  or 
accommodated  to  human  ufe ;  but  it  will 
increafe  no  more  in  bulk  and  fubftance. 

Another  error  is,  that  after  the  diftri- 
bution  of  particular  arts  and  fciences  into 
their  feveral  clalies,  moil  men  bave  aban- 
doned univerfality  of  knowledge,  philofophia 
■prima,  which  is  a  deadly  enemy  to  the  pro- 
greflion  of  fciences  ;  for  profpe(£ls  are  made 
fi;om  turrets,  or  very  high  places ;  and  it  is 
impoffible  for  a  man  to  explore  the  more 
remote  and  deeper  parts  of  any  fcience,  if  he 
fl:and  but  upon  the  flat  and  level  of  it, 
and  afcend  not  the  watch-tower  of  a  fu- 
perior  fcience. 

Another  error  flows  from  too  great  a 
reverence  and  adoration  of  the  mind  and  un- 
derftanding  of  man  ;  by  w^hich  means  men 
have  withdrawn  themfelves  from  the  con- 
templatipn   of  nature,   and  the  obfervations 

of 


62      ON  THE  DISCREDIT.  OF  LEARNING# 

of  experience,  bewildered  in  their  own  fpe- 
culations  and  fancies;  but  of  thefe  noble 
fpeculators,  and,  if  I  may  fo  fpeak,  intellec- 
tualifts,  who  are,  notwithflanding.  common- 
ly taken  for  the  moft  fublime  and  divine 
philofophers,  Heraclitus  has  fpoken  thus  : 
"  Men,"  fays  he,  "  feek  truth  in  their 
*'  own  little  worlds,  but  not  in  the  great 
"  world."  For  did  they  not  difdain  the 
alphabet  of  nature,  and  the  primer  of  the 
divine  works,  they  might,  perhaps,  by  fteps 
and  degrees,  after  the  knowledge  of  fimple 
letters,  and  then  fy llables,  come  at  laft  to 
read  perfedlly  the  text  and  volume  of  the 
creatures  itfelf.  But  they,  on  the  con- 
trary, by  continual  meditation,  and  work- 
ing of  their  wit,  urge  and  invocate  their 
own  fpirits  to  divine,  and  give  out  fanatical 
predi6lions,  by  which  they  are  defervedly, 
though  pleafmgly  deluded. 

Another  error  that  has  fome  conne6lioii 
with  the  latter  is,  that  men  often  feafon  and 
infed  their  meditations  and  dodrines  with 
certain  opinions  and  fancies  of  their  own, 
which  they  hold  mofl  in  admiration ;  or 
with  fome  fciences,  to  which  they  are  mofl 

addicted 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF   LEARNING.         63 

addii^ed  and  devoted ;  tinduring  all  other 
things  with  their  favourite  fludies,  though 
a  paint  very  illufive  and  deceiving.  So 
Plato  intermingled  theology  in  his  philofo- 
phy ;  Arijlotk^  logic  ;  the  fecond  fchool  of 
Plato^  Proclus  and  the  refl,  mathematics. 
The  chymifls  forged  a  new  philofophy  out 
of  a  few  experiments,  the  fire,  and  furnace; 
and  Gilhertiis,  our  countryman,  has  drawn  a 
new  philofophy  out  of  the  load-flone.  So 
Cicero^  when  reciting  the  feveral  opinions 
concerning  the  natureof  the  foul,  at  lall:  met 
with  a  mufician,  w^ho  held  the  foul  to  be 
harmony,  and  faid  pleafantly,  *'  This  mail 
"  was  not  for  going  out  of  his  own  profef- 
"  fion."  But  of  thefe  fort  of  errors,  Aif- 
totle  aptly  and  wifely  fays,  "  They  that  con- 
*'  fider  but  few  things  are  apt  to  pronounce, 
*'  and  be  dogmatical." 

Another  error  is,  an  impatience  of  doubt- 
ing, and  a  blind  hafle  to  aflent,  without 
mature  fufpenfion  of  judgment;  for  the 
two  ways  of  contemplation  are  not  unlike 
the  two  ways  of  a6lion  often  mentioned  by 
the  ancients :  the  one,  plain  and  fmooth  in 
the  beginning,  but  in  the  end  impaffable ; 

the 


64        ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

the  Other,  rough  and  craggy  in  the  entrance, 
but,  when  you  have  gone  on  a  little,  fair 
and  even;  fo,  in  contemplation,  if  a  man  be- 
gins with  certainties,  he  fhall  end  in  doubts ; 
but,  if  he  begins  with  doubts,  and  has  the 
patience  to  bear  them,  he  fhall  foon  end 
in  certainties. 

A  LIKE  error  difcovers  itfelf  in  the  manner 
of  delivering  knowledge,  which,  for  the  mofl 
part,  is  imperious  and  magifterial,  not  in- 
genuous and  liberal;  fo  contrived  as  to 
command  affent,  rather  than  fubmit  to  ex- 
amination. I  will  not  deny,  but  that  in 
compendious  treatifes,  defigned  for  pradice, 
that  form  of  writing  is  to  be  retained ;  but, 
in  juil:  and  complete  treatifes  of  fcience,  both 
extremes,  in  my  judgment,  are  to  be  avoided, 
as  well  that  of  Felleius,  the  Epicurean,  Nil 
tarn  jnetuentis,  quam  ne  duhitare  de  re  aliqua 
videretur^  *'  Who  fears  nothing  fo  much,  as 
"  left  he  fhould  feem  to  doubt  about  any 
<'  thing,"  as  that  of  Socrates,  and  the  Aca- 
demy, who  leave  all  things  in  doubt  and 
uncertainty.  Men  fhould  rather  afFe6l  can- 
dour and  fuicerity,  and  propound  things  with 
more  or  lefs  affeveration,   according  as  they 

are 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF    LEARNING.        05 

nre  more  weakly  or  fully  proved,  by  the 
weight  of  argument  and  reafon. 

Other  errors  there  are  in  the  fcope  that 
men  propound  to  themfelves,  and  to  which 
they  dire6t  their  endeavours  and  labours; 
for,  as  the  more  diligent  leaders,  and  noted 
profefibrs  of  learning,  ought  chiefly  to  keep 
in  view  the  making  fome  confiderable 
addition  to  the  art  they  profefs;  thefe  men, 
on  the  other  fide,  content  themfelves  to  be 
feconds  only ;  courting  the  name  either  of 
a  fubtle  interpreter,  an  able  antagonifl, 
or  of  a  methodical  abrldtrer:    from  whence 

o 

the  revenues  and  tributes  of  fciences  come 
to  be  augmented,  but  not  the  patrimony 
and  ground  of  knowledge  itfelf. 

But  the  greatefl  error  of  all  the  reft  con- 
lifts  in  deviating  from  the  ultimate  end  of 
knowledge.  For  men  defire  and  feek  after 
knowledge,  fome  from  a  natural  and  reftlefs 
curiofity ;  others  for  entertainment  and  de- 
light; others  for  reputation;  others  for  the 
fake  of  contention  and  victory  in  difpute; 
mofl  for  lucre  and  livelihood;  very  few  to 
employ  the  gift  of  reafon  given  by  God  for 

Vol.  II.  F  the 


66        ON  THE  DISCREDIT  05  LEARNING. 

the  benefit  and  ufe  of  mankind  :  juft  as   if 
they  fought  in  learning  a  couch,   on  which 
they  might   repofe   a  troubled   and   reftlefs 
fpirit;  or  a  terrace  for  a  wandering  and  va- 
riable mind  to  walk  up  and  down  upon  at 
liberty,  with  a  fair  profpe6l ;  or  fome  high 
and  eminent  tower,   for  a  proud,  ambitious 
mind  to  raife  itfelf  on ;  a  citadel  and  fort  for 
contention  and  battle,  or  a  fhlp  for  trade  and 
merchandife,  rather  than  a  rich  armory,  and 
flore-houfe,   for  the  glory  of  the  Creator  of 
all  things,    and   the  relief  of  human   life. 
This  is  that  which  would  indeed  dignify 
and  exalt  learning  and  the  arts,  if  contem- 
plation and  a£lion  were  more  nearly  joined 
and  united  than  they  have  hitherto  been: 
which  combination  would  be  like  the  con- 
jun6lion   of  the  two  higheil:  planets,  when 
Saturn,  the  planet  of  quiet  and  contempla- 
tion, confpires  with  Jupiter,   the   planet  of 
fociety  and  a<Stion.    However,  when  I  fpeak 
of  practice  and  adion,  I  do  not  in  the  leaft 
mean  profeflbrial  and  lucrative  learning;  for 
1  am  not  ignorant  how  much  that  diverts 
and  interrupts  the  progreffion  and  advance- 
ment of  real  knowledge ;  like,  indeed,  the 

Golden 


ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING.      6^ 

Golden  Apple  thrown  before  Atalanfa,  which, 
while  fhe  ftoops  to  take  up,  the  race  in  the 
mean  time  is  hindered. 

Dt'Cilnas  curfus  aurumque,  voUnhil  toll'it. 

Nor  again  is  it  my  meaning,  as  was  faid 
of  Socrates,  to  call  down  philofophy  from 
heaven  to  converfe  upon  earth  only;  that 
natural  philofophy  fhould  belaid  afide,  to  the 
end  that  moral  and  political  philofophy  only 
might  be  in  vogue :  but  as  heaven  and  earth 
confpire  together  for  the  fupport  and  delight 
of  the  life  of  man,  fo  indeed  fhould  this  be 
the  end  of  both  philofophies,  that  vain  fpe- 
culations,  and  whatever  is  empty  and  barren, 
being  rejected,  all  that  is  folid  and  fruitful 
may  be  preferved ;  and  knowledge  not  con- 
fidered  a  courtezan  for  pkafure,  or  a  hand- 
maid to  profit,  but  as  a  fpoufe  for  generation 
and  honed  comfort. 

And  now,  having  explained,  by  a  kind 

of  difledion,  thofe   peccant   humours   (the 

principal  of  them  at  leaft)  which  have  not 

only  been  an  impediment  to  the  proficience 

F  2  of 


^8       ON  THE  DISCREDIT  OF  LEARNING. 

of  learning,  but  have  alfo  given  occafion  to 
the  traducing  of  it;  if  I  have  done  it  to  the 
quick,  it  muil:  be  remembered,  '«  Faithful 
*«  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend ;  but  the  kifles 
"  of  an  enemy  are  deceitful."  Prov.  xxvii. 
6.  However,  this,  at  leaft,  I  feem  to  have 
gained,  to  deferve  belief  in  the  following 
encomium,  fnice  I  have  proceeded  fo  freely 
in  the  preceding  cenfure :  and  yet  I  have  no 
purpofe  to  write  a  panegyric  on  learning,  or 
-iing  a  hymn  to  the  Mufes,  though  per- 
haps it  is  long  fuice  their  rites  were  duly 
celebrated;  but  my  intent  is,  without  var- 
nilh  or  amplification,  to  take  the  juft  weight 
of  knowledge,  to  balance  it  with  other  things, 
and  to  fearch  out  the  true  value  thereof 
from  teflimonies,  both  divine  and  human. 


ON? 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         69 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 


PIRST  let  us  feek  the  dignity  of  know- 
ledge in  the  archetype,  that  is,  in  the 
attributes  and  a6ls  of  God,  as  far  as  they  are 
revealed  to  man,  and  may  be  fearched  into 
with  fobriety  ;  in  which  the  name  of  learn* 
ing  is  improper,  fnice  all  learning  is  know- 
ledge acquired ;  and  no  knowledge  in  God  is 
acquired,  but  original  ;  therefore  we  muft 
look  out  for  fome  other  name,  that  of 
wifdom,  as  the  holy  fcriptures  term  it. 

In  the  works  of  creation,  we  fee  a  double 
emanation  of  divine  virtue ;  the  one  referring 
to  power,  the  other  to  wifdom :  the  former 
is  chiefly  feen  in  creating  the  mafs  of  mat- 
ter, the  latter,  in  difpofing  the  beauty  of  the 
form.  This  being  laid  down,  it  is  to  be  ob- 
ferved,  that  for  any  thing  which  appears  in 
the  hiflory  of  the  creation  to  the  contrary, 
the  confufed  mafs  of  heaven  and  earth  was 
made  in  a  moment ;  yet,  the  difpofition  and 
F  3  digeft- 


70        ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING, 

dlgefting  of  the  fame  was  the  work  of  fix 
days  :  fo  remarkable  a  difference  did  it  pleafe 
God  to  put  between  the  works  of  power,  and 
the  works  of  wifdom.  As  to  the  creation  of 
matter,  it  is  not  recorded  that  God  faid, 
"  Let  there  be  heaven  and  earth,"  as  was  faid 
of  the  works  following  ;  but  fimply  and  ac- 
tually, "  God  made  heaven  and  earth  :"  fo 
that  the  matter  feems  to  be  as  a  manufac- 
ture, but  the  introdudlion  of  form  carries 
the  flyle  of  a  law  or  decree. 

Let  us  proceed  from  God  to  Angels, 
whofe  nature,  in  order  of  dignity,  is  next  to 
God.  We  fee  in  the  order  of  Angels,  fo-far 
as  credit  is  to  be  given  to  that  cekftial  hie- 
rarchy, fet  forth  under  the  name  o^DioftyJius 
the  Areopagite,  that  the  Seraphim,  that  is, 
the  angels  of  love,  have  the  firft  place  ;  the 
fecond,  the  Cherubim,  angels  of  illumina- 
tion ;  and  that  the  third  and  following  places 
are  given  to  thrones,  principalities,  and  the 
reft  of  the  angels  of  power  and  mimftry :  fb 
that  from  this  very  order  and  diftribution  it 
appears,  that  the  angels  of  knowledge  and 
illumination  are  placed  before  the  angels  of 
office  and  dominion. 

To 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OE  LEARNING.  ^l 

To  defcend  from  fpirits  and  intelle£lual 
natures,  to  fenfible  and  material  forms,  we 
read,  that  the  firfl  of  created  forms  was  light ; 
which,  in  natural  and  corporeal  things,  has 
a  relation  and  correfpondence  to  things  fpi- 
ritual  and  incorporeal. 

So  in  the  diflribution  of  days  we  fee  the 
day  wherein  God  refted,  and  contemplated 
his  own  works,  was  bleffed  above  all  the 
days  in  which  the  fabric  of  the  univerfe  was 
created  and  difpofed. 

After  the  creation  was  finifhed,  we  read 
that  man  was  placed  in  Paradife,  to  work 
there  :  which  work  could  be  no  other  than 
what  relates  to  contemplation ;  that  is,  the 
end  of  it  could  not  refer  to  necefTity,  but  to 
delight  and  exercife,  without  vexation  or 
trouble;  for  there  being  then  no  poffible re- 
luctance of  the  creature,  no  "  fweatofthe 
<'  brow,'*  man's  employment  mufl  of  con- 
fequence  have  been  matter  of  pleafure  and 
contemplation,  not  of  labour  or  work.  The 
firft  ads  which  man  performed  in  Paradife 
confifted  of  the  two  fummary  parts  of  know- 
ledge, the  view  of  creatures,  and  the  impo- 
F  4  fition 


*12      ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

fition  of  names.  As  for  the  knowledge  which 
introduced  the  fall,  it  was  not  the  natural 
knowledge  of  creatures,  but  the  moral  know- 
ledge of  good  and  evil,  wherein  the  fuppo- 
ikion  was,  that  God's  commandments  or 
prohibitions  were  not  the  origin  of  good  and 
evil,  but  that  they  had  other  fources  which 
man  afpired  to  know,  to  make  a  total  de- 
fe6tion  from  God,  and  to  depend  wholly 
upon  himfelf. 

Let  us  pafs  to  the  things  that  happened 
immediately  after  the  fall.  We  fee  (as  the 
facred  fcriptures  have  infinite  myfteries, 
without  ever  violating  the  hilTorical  and  li- 
teral truth)  an  image  of  the  two  eflates,  the 
contemplative  ^nd  active,  delineated  in  the 
perfons  of  Abel  and  Cain,  and  in  their  pro- 
fefTions  and  primitive  ways  of  life.  The  one 
was  a  fhepherd,  who,  by  reafoii  of  his  lei- 
fure,  his  quiet,  and  free  view  of  heaven,  is 
a  type  of  the  contemplative  life :  the  other, 
a  hufbandman,  that  is,  a  man  fatigued  with 
labour,  and  his  countenance  fixed  down 
■Upon  the  earth  :  where  we  may  fee  that  the 
favour  and  eledion  of  God  went  to  the  fhep- 
herd, and  not  to  the  tiller  of  the  ground. 

Sq 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         y^ 

So  before  the  flood,  the  holy  records, 
among  the  very  few  occurrences  regiftered  of 
that  age,  have  delivered  down  to  pofterity 
the  mventors  of  mufic,  and  works  in  metal. 

In  the  next  age  after  the  flood,  the  great 
judgment  of  God  upon  the  pride  of  man  was 
the  confufion  of  tongues,  whereby  the  free 
commerce  of  learning,  and  intercourfe  of  let^ 
ters,  was  chiefly  cut  off. 

Let  us  defcend  to  Mofes,  the  law-giver, 
and  God's  firft  notary,  whom  the  fcriptures 
adorn  with  this  eulogy,  ''  That  he  was  feen 
*'  in  all  the  learning  of  the  Egyptians;'* 
which  nation  was  reckoned  one  of  the  mofl 
antient  fchools  of  the  world :  for  fo  Piato 
brings  in  the  Egyptian  priefl  faying  to  Solon  ^ 
*'  You  Grecians  are  ever  children,  having 
**  no  knowledge  of  antiquity,  nor  antiquity 
"  of  knowledge."  Take  a  view  of  the 
ceremonial  law  of  Mofes,  and  you  fhall  find, 
befides  the  prefiguration  of  Chrift,  the  dif- 
tinftion  of  the  people  of  God  from  the  Gen- 
tiles, the  exercife  and  impreffion  of  obedi- 
ence, and  other  holy  ufes  of  the  fame  law, 
that  fome  of  the  mofl  learned  Rabbles  have 

tra- 


74        ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

travalled,proiitably  and  profoundly  to  difcover 
a  phy ileal  and  moral  fenfe  in  many  of  the 
ceremonies  and  ordinances  :  as  in  the  law  of 
the  leprofy,  where  it  is  faid,   "  If  the  white- 
*'  nefshave  overfpread  the  flefh,  the  patient 
*'  may  pafs  abroad  for  clean ;   but  if  there  be 
*«  any  whole  flefh  remaining,  he  is  to    be 
"  fhut   up   for  unclean."      From  this   law 
one  of  them   collects  a  principle  of  nature, 
'*  That  piitrefadlion  is  more  contagious  be- 
*'  fore  maturity  than  after."    Another  notes 
apofition  of  moral  philofophy,  "  That  men 
•'  abandoned  to  vice  do  not  fo  much  corrupt 
*'  manners,   as  thofe  that  are  half  good  and 
"  half  evil :"  fo  in  this,  and  in  many  other 
places  in  that  law,  there  is  to  be  found,  be- 
lides  the  theological  fenfe,  a  great  mixture 
of  philofophy. 

So  likewife  If  a  man  turn  over  with  dili- 
gence that  excellent  book  of  Job,  he  will  find 
it  full  of  the  mylleries  of  natural  philofophy. 
As  for  example,  cofmography,  and  the  round- 
nefs  of  the.  world  :  "  He  ftretcheth  out  the 
"  north  over  the  empty  place,  and  hangeth 
<'  the  earth  upon  nothing."  Job  xxvi.  7. 
Wherein  the  penfilenefs  of  the  earth,  the 

pole 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OFLEARNING  1$ 

pole  of  the  north,  and  the  finitenefs  or  con- 
vexity of  heaven,    are  manifefHy  touched. 
So  in  matters  of  aflronomy:    '*  By  his  fpirit 
«'  he  hath  garniihed  the  heavens;  his  hand 
"  hath  formed  the  crooked  ferpent."  Ibid.  13. 
And  in  another  place,    "  Canft  thou  bind 
"  the  fweet  influences  of  Pleiades?  or  loofe 
«'  the  bands  of  Orion  r'*  xxxviii.  31.  Where 
the  immoveable  configuration  of  the  fixed 
ftars,    ever   {landing   at  equal  difbance  one 
from  the  other,  is  with  great  elegancy  de- 
fer ibed.      So   in   another   place,    "  Which 
"  maketh  Ardurus,  Orion,    and   Pleiades, 
"  and   the    fecrets    of  the   fouth."     ix.  9. 
Where  he  points   at   the  depi'eliion   of  the 
Southern  pole,  calling  it  the  fecrets  of  the 
fouth,    becaufe  the  fouthern  flars  are  not 
feen   upon   our  hemiiphere.      Likewife    in 
matter    of  generation  :     "  Haft    thou    not 
"  poured  me  out  like  milk,  and  condenfed 
•'  me  like  curds?"   x.  10.     In  matters  of 
minerals :  "  Surely  there  is  a  vein  for  filver, 
*'  and  a  place  wherein  gold  is  fined;  iron  is 
**  digged  up  out  of  compacted  duft,   and 
"  brafs  extradled  from  ftone  diffolved  in  the 
«'  furnace."    See  chap,  xxviii.  i.  &c. 

In 


^6         ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

In  like  manner  alfo,  in  the  perfon  of  Kiiig 
Solomon^  we  fee  the  gift  of  wifdom,  both  in 
his  own  petition,  and  in  the  divine  grant, 
preferred  before  all  earthly  and  temporal  fe- 
licity ;  by   virtue  of  which   grant,  Solomon^ 
being  fingularly  furnifhed,  wrote  not  only 
thofe   excellent   parables  concerning  divine 
and  moral  philofophy,  but  alfo  compiled  a 
natural   hiftory  of  all  vegetables,    *'  from 
*'  the  cedar  upon  the  mountain,  to  the  mofs 
*'  upon  the  wall,"   (which  is  but  the  rudi- 
ment of  a  plant,  between  putrefaction  and 
an  herb ;)  and  of  all  things  that  breathe  or 
move.    Nay,  the  fame  King  Solomon^  though 
he  excelled  in  wealth,  in   magnificence  of 
buildings,  in  fliipping,    in  fervice   and  at- 
tendance, in  fame  and   renown,  and  other 
things   relating  to  glory;    yet   he   reaps  or 
aflumes  to  himfelf  nothing  at  all,  out  of  that 
train   of  glories,  befides   that   of  enquiring 
into,  and  finding  out  the  truth  :    for  fo  he 
fays  exprefsly  :    "  It  is  the  glory  of  God  to 
"  conceal  a  thing;  but  the  honour  of  kings 
*'  is  to  fearch  out  a  matter."     Prov.  xxv.  2. 
As  if,  according  to  the  innocent  and  fweet 
play   of  children,  the  divine  Majefly  took 
delight  to  hide  his  works,  that  he  might 

have 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         77 

hav^e  them  found  out ;  and  as  if  kings  could 
not  obtain  a  greater  honour  than  to  be  af- 
figned  the  province  of  difcovering  them  ; 
efpeciallj  confidering  the  great  command 
they  have  of  wits  and  means,  whereby  no- 
thing needeth  to  be  hidden  from  them. 

Nor  was  the  difpenfation  of  God  other- 
wife,  after  our  Saviour  w^as  come  into  the 
world  :  for  he  fhewed  his  power,  in  putting 
ignorance  to  flight,  by  his  conference  with 
the  do£lors  and  priefls  in  the  temple,  before 
he  fhewed  it,  in  fubduing  nature,  by  his 
great  and  numerous  miracles  :  and  the  com- 
ing of  the  holy  Spirit  was  chiefly  figured 
and  expreflTed  in  the  fimilitude  and  gift  of 
tongues,  which  are  but  the  vehicles  of  know- 
ledge. 

So  in  the  choice  of  thofe  inftruments 
which  God  made  ufe  of  for  the  plantation 
of  the  faith,  at  firft  he  called  forth  perfons 
wholly  unlearned  and  ignorant,  otherwife 
than  by  mfpiration  of  the  Holy  Ghoft;  to 
the  end  he  might  more  evidently  declare  his 
own  immediate  working  and  divine  power 
to  be  above  human  wifdom.     Neverthelefs, 

his 


yS         ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

his  coimfel  in  this  refpeft  was  no  fooner  ful- 
filled, but  in  the  next  fucceflion  of  time  he 
fent  his  divine  truth  into  the  world.  Ac- 
cordingly the  pen  of  St.  Paul,  the  only 
learned  man  of  the  apoftles,  was  chiefly  em- 
ployed by  God,  in  the  fcriptures  of  the  New 
Teflament. 

We  know  that  feveral  of  the  ancient  Bl- 
fhops  and  fathers  were  excellently  read  in 
all  the  learnuig  of  the  heathens.  Infomuch, 
that  the  edi6l  of  Julian,  which  forbad  Chrif- 
tians  to  be  admitted  into  fchools  and  acade- 
mies, was  efteemed  a  more  pernicious  engine 
for  the  demolishing  of  the  Chriftlan  faith, 
than  the  fanguinary  perfecutions  of  the  pre- 
ceding emperors.  Neither  was  the  emula- 
tion and  invidloufnefs  of  Gregory  the  firfl, 
Bifliop  of  Rome,  (otherwife  an  excellent 
man)  who  zealoufly  endeavoured  to  oblite- 
rate the  memory  of  heathen  authors  and  an- 
tiquities, taken  in  good  part,  even  among 
pious  men.  Nay,  it  was  rhe  Chriftian  church 
alone,  which,  among  the  inundations  of  the 
Scythians  from  the  north,  and  of  the  Saracens 
from  the  eaft,  preferved  in  her  facred  bofom 
the  precious  relics  of  heathen  learning,  which 
I  was 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNINCJ.         *]() 

was  now  upon  the  point  of  being  utterly 
extinguifhed. 

There  are  two  principal  offices  and  fer- 
vices,  befides  ornament  and  illuftration, 
which  philolophy  and  human  learning  per- 
form to  faith  and  reUgion.  The  one,  that 
thev  are  effectual  incitements  to  the  exalta- 
tion  and  celebration  of  the  glory  of  God ; 
(for  as  the  Pfalms,  and  other  fcriptures, 
often  invite  us  to  contemplate  and  magnify 
the  great  and  wonderful  works  of  God ;  fo, 
if  we  fhould  reft  only  in  the  exterior  part  of 
them,  as  they  firft  offer  themfelves  to  our 
fenfes,  we  fliould  do  the  fame  injury  to  the 
majefty  of  God,  as  if  we  fhould  judge  of  the 
wealth  and  ftore  of  a  moft  noted  jeweller,  by 
what  is  expofed  to  view  in  the  out-part  of 
the  fhop  towards  the  ftreet:)  the  other, 
that  they  minifter  a  fmgular  help  and  pre- 
fervative  againft  unbelief  and  error  ;  for  our 
Saviour  faith,  "  Ye  err,  not  knowing  the 
"  fcriptures,  nor  the  power  of  God.'*  Where 
he  lays  before  us  two  books  toftudy,  to  pre- 
vent our  falling  into  error:  firft,  the  volume 
of  the  fcriptures,  which  reveal  the  will  of 
God;    then,    the  volume  of  the  creatures 

that 


8o         ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING* 

that  exprefs  his  power :  the  latter  of  which 
is  a  key  to  the  former,  opening  not  only  our 
intelleds,  to  conceive  the  genuine  fenfe  of" 
the  fcriptures,  which  is  to  be  drawn  out 
by  the  general  rules  of  reafon,  and  laws  of 
fpeech ;  but,  befides  that,  unfolding  our 
faith  alfo,  to  enter  into  a  ferious  meditation 
of  the  omnipotence  of  God,  the  chara£lers 
whereof  are  chiefly  engraven  upon  his  works* 
Thus  much  for  divine  teflimonies  and  judg- 
ments, concerning  the  true  dignity  and  value 
of  learning* 


OF  HUMAN  PROOFS  AND  ARGUMENTS. 

AS  for  human  proofs  and  arguments,  fa 
"^  large  a  field  opens,  that  it  is  convenient 
to  ufe  choice  rather  than  abundance. 

First,  therefore,  the  highefl  degree  of 
honour  among  the  heathens  was,  to  obtain 
divine  veneration  and  worfhip  ;  which  to 
Chriflians  is  blafphemy ;  but  we  fpeak  now 

fepa- 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         8r 

feparately  concerning  human  judgments : 
therefore  among  the  heathens,  that  which 
the  Greeks  call  apotheojis^  and  the  Latins^  re- 
iai'io  inter  DeDs,  "  canonizing,'*  was  the  high- 
ell:  honour  that  man  could  poffibly  attribute 
to  man;  elpecially  when  it  was  given,  not 
by  any  degree  or  acl  of  ftate,  as  to  the  Ro' 
jimn  Emperors,, but  freely  and  frankly  from 
the  judgment  and  inward  belief  of  men  :  of 
which  exalted  honour  there  were  two  de- 
grees, honours  heroic,  and  divine;  in  the 
diftribution  of  which,  antiquity  obferved  this 
order. 

Founders  of  flates,  legiflators,  fathers  of 
their  country,  and  other  perfons  of  great 
merit  in  civil  affairs,  were  diflinguifhed  by 
the  title  of  Heroes ;  fuch  as  Thefeus,  M'mos^ 
Romulus^  &c.  On  the  other  fide,  the  in- 
ventors and  authors  of  new  arts,  and  fuch 
as  endowed  human  life  with  new  conveni- 
ences and  acceffions,  were  ever  confecrated 
iamong  the  gfeater  Gods  themfelves  ;  fuch  as 
Ceres,  Bacchus,  Mercury,  Apollo,  and  others ; 
w^hich,  doubtlefs,  was  done  juflly,  and  upon 
found  judgment.  For  the  merits  of  the 
former  are  commonly  confined  within  the 

Vol.  IL  G  circle 


8Z         ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

circle  of  one  age,  or  nation ;  and  are  not 
unlike  feafonable  and  favourable  fhowers, 
which,  though  they  be  profitable  and  de- 
firable,  yet  ferve  only  for  that  feafon  wherein 
they  fall,  and  for  that  latitude  of  ground 
which  they  water  :  but  the  benefits  of  the 
latter,  like  the  bleflings  of  the  fun,  and  of 
the  heavenly  bodies,  are  for  time  perpetual, 
for  place,  univerfal.  Again  :  thofe  are  ufu- 
ally  accompanied  with  ftrife  and  perturba- 
tion; but  thefe  have  the  true  charadler  of 
the  divine  prefence,  and  come,  in  a  gentle 
gale,  without  tumult  or  noife.  . 

Nor  indeed  is  the  merit  of  learning  in 
civil  affairs,  and  in  reprefling  the  inconve- 
niences which  one  man  brings  upon  another, 
much  inferior  to  that  other,  in  relieving 
human  neceffities,  which  aiife  from  nature 
herfelf;  and  this  kind  of  merit  was  excel- 
lently fhadowed  under  that  feigned  relation, 
concerning  Orpheus' s  theatre,  where  all  beafts 
and  birds  affembled,  and,  forgetful  of  their 
natural  appetites  of  prey,  of  game,  of  flight ; 
flood  fociably  and  lovingly  together,  taken 
with  the  melodious  fweetnefs  of  his  harp; 
the  found  whereof  no  fooner  ceafed,  or  was 

drowned 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         83 

drowned  by  feme  louder  nolfe,  but  every 
bead  returned  to  his  own  nature.  In  which 
fhble  the  natures  and  manners  of  men  are 
elegantly  dcfcribed,  who  are  toffed  with 
fundry  untamed  defires  of  gain,  of  luft,  of 
revenge  ;  yet  as  long  as  they  give  ear  to  the 
precepts  and  perfuafions  of  religion,  of  laws, 
of  inftruclors,  eloquently  and  fweetly  warb- 
ling, in  books,  in  fermons,  and  harangues; 
fo  long  is  peace  and  fociety  maintained  :  but 
if  thole  are  filent,  or  feditions  and  tuTnults 
difturb  them  with  their  clamour,  all  things 
diflblvej  and  relapfe  into  anarchy  and  con- 
fufion. 

But  this  appears  more  manifeflly,  when 
kings  themlelves,  or  perfons  of  great  autho- 
rity under  them,  or  other  governors  of  flates, 
are  endued  w4th  learning:  for  however  par- 
tial to  his  own  profefTion  he  may  be  thought 
who  faid,  "  Then  would  flates  be  happy, 
**  when  either  philofophers  were  kings,  or 
*'  kings  philofophers  ;'*  yet  fo  much  is  ve- 
rified by  experience,  that,  under  learned 
princes  and  governors  of  ftate,  there  have 
been  ever  the  happiefl:  times.  For  though 
kings  may  have  their  errors  and  imperfec- 
G  2  tions. 


84        ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING, 

tions  ;  being  liable  to  paffions,  and  depraved 
cufloms,  like  other  men  ;  yet,  if  they  have 
the  illumination  of  learning,  certain  antici- 
pated notions  of  religion,  policy,  and  mo- 
rality, hold  them  back,  and  reftrain  them 
from  all  ruinous  and  incurable  excefs  and 
error;  whifpering  in  their  ear,  even  when 
counfellors  and  fervants  are  filent.  Senators 
and  counfellors,  that  are  accompllihed  with 
learning,  proceed  upon  more  folid  principles 
than  thofe  that  are  only  men  of  experience ; 
the  former  feeing  dangers  afar  off,  and  ward- 
ing them  in  time ;  whereas  thefe  are  wife 
only  near  at  hand,  feeing  nothing  but  what 
is  imminent ;  and  then  at  laft  truiling  to  the 
agility  of  their  wit  to  difentangle  and  refcue 
thcmfelves,  in  the  very  inftant  of  danger. 

The  happieft  times  were  under  learned 
princes,  which  beft  appear  in  that  age,  from 
the  death  of  Domk/'an,  the  emperor,  until 
the  reign  of  Commodus,  comprehending  a  fuc- 
ceffionoffix  princes,  who,  learned  themfelves, 
or  at  leaft  were  fmgular  patrons  of  learning; 
and  of  all  ages,  if  we  regard  temporal  happi- 
nefs,  the.mofl  flourifliing  that  Rome,  then  the 
epitome  of  the  world,  ever  faw ;  a  matter  re- 
I  vealed 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.        S^ 

vealed  and  prefigured  to  Domltian  in  a  dream, 
the  night  before  he  was  ilain ;  for  he  thought 
he  faw  a  golden  head  grown  out  of  the 
nape  of  his  neck  :  which  divination  was  in- 
deed fulfilled  in  thofe  golden  times  that 
fucceeded :  of  which  princes  we  will  make 
fome  commemoration ;  wherein  although  the 
matter  is  vulgar,  and  may  be  thought  fitter 
for  a  declamation,  than  agreeable  to  a  treatife 
infolded  as  this ;  yet,  becaufe  it  is  pertinent 
to  the  point  in  hand,  neque  fetnper  arcum  ten- 
dit  Apollo,  and  to  name  them  only  were  too 
naked  and  curfory,  I  will  not  omit  it  alto- 
gether. 

The  firft  was  Nerva;  the  excellent  temper 
of  whofe  government,  is  by  a  glance  of  C<?r« 
nelius  Tacitus, touched  to  the  life,"  afterwards 
*'  Nerva  united  two  things  before  incompati-* 
"  ble,  empire  and  liberty;'*  and  in  proof  of 
his  learning  he  was  a  difciple  of  j^polloniusy 
the  f^imous  Pythagorean:  the  lafl  a£l  of  his 
fhort  reign  left  to  memory  was,  a  miffive  to 
his  adopted  {onTrajan,  proceeding  from  fome 
inward  difcontent  at  the  ingratitude  of  the 
times,  comprehended  in  averfe  of  Homer  ^ 

*'  Revenge  my  tears,  O  Phaebus,  with  thy  (hafts.'* 

G  3  'Jrajan 


86        ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

'Trajan^  who  fucceeded,  was   not  learned 
indeed  in  himfelf ;  but  if  we  hearken  to  the 
fpeech  of  our  Saviour  that  faith,  <*  He  that 
<*  recelveth    a   prophet,  in   the  name  of  a 
"  prophet,   {hall  have  a  prophet's  reward," 
he  deferves  to  be  placed  amongft  the  moft 
learned  princes;  for  he  was  an  admirer  of 
learning,    a  benefactor  to  learned  men,    a 
founder  of  libraries;  and  in  whofe  court, 
though  a  warlike  prince,  preceptors  and  pro- 
feffors  are  recorded  to  have  been  in  the  high- 
eft  requeft.     On  the  other  fide,  how  much 
Tt/^Ws  virtue  and  government  w^as  admired 
and  renowned,  furely  no  teftimony  of  grave 
and    faithful    hiftory  doth    more  lively  fet 
forth,  than  that  legendary  tale  of  Gregorius 
MagnuSy  Bifliop  of  Kome^  who  was  noted  for 
the  extreme  envy  he  bore  towards  all  heathen 
excellency;  and  yet  he   is  reported,  out  of 
the   love  and  efteem  of  fr^jans  moral  vir- 
tues, to  have  made  unto  God  paflionate  and 
fervent  prayers,  for  the  delivery  of  his  foul 
out  of  hell ;   and  to  have  obtained  it  with  a 
caveat  that  he  fliould  make  no  more  petitions. 
In  this  prince's  time,  alfo,  the  perfecutions 
againft  the  Chriftians  received  intermiflion, 
upon  the  certificate   of  Plinius  Secundus^  a 

man 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         87 

man  of  excellent  learning,  and  advanced  by 

Trajan. 

Adrian,  his  fucceffor,  was  the  moft  cu- 
rious man  that  lived,  and  themoft  univerfal 
enquirer;  infomuch,  it  was  noted  for  an 
error  in  his  mind,  that  he  defired  to  compre- 
hend all  things,  and  not  to  referve  himfelf 
for  things  more  worthy ;  falling  into  the  like 
humour  that  was  long  before  noted  in  Fhilip 
of  Macedon^  who,  when  he  wifhed  to  over- 
rule and  convince  an  excellent  mufician  in 
an  argument  touching  mufic,  was  anfwered 
by  him  again,  *'  God  forbid,  fir,"  faith  he, 
*'  that  your  fortune  fhould  be  fo  bad  as  to 
*'  know  thofe  things  better  than  me."  It 
pleafed  God  likewife  to  ufe  the  curiofity  of 
.£his  emperor,  as  an  inducement  to  the  peace 
of  his  church  in  thofe  days  ;  for  having 
Chrift  in  veneration,  not  as  a  God  or  Savi- 
our, but  as  a  wonder  or  novelty ;  and  having 
his  picture  in  his  gallery,  matched  with 
AprAlonius^  with  whom,  in  his  vain  imagina- 
tion, he  thought  he  had  fome  conformity  ; 
yet  it  ferved  to  allay  the  bitter  hatred  of  thofe 
times  againftthe  Chriftian  name;  fo  that  the 
church  had  peace  during  his  time.  And  for 
G4  his 


8S        ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

his  civil  government,  although  he  did  not 
attain  to  that  of  'Trajan  %^  in  glory  of  arms, 
or  perfection  of  juflice ;  yet,  in  deferving  the 
good  will  of  the  fubje6l,  he  did  exceed  him ; 
for  Trujan  creeled  many  famous  monuments 
and  buildings,  infomuch  that  Conjiantke  the 
Great,  in  emulation,  was  wont  to  call  him 
Parietaria,  "Wall-flower,"  becaufehis  namQ 
was  upon  fo  many  walls  :  but  his  buildings 
and  works  were  more  of  glory  and  triumph, 
than  ufe  and  neceffity.  But  Adrian  fpent 
his  whole  reign,  which  v^as  peaceable,  in  a 
furvey  of  the  Roman  empire  ;  giving  orders, 
wherever  he  went,  for  re-edifying  of  cities, 
towns,  and  decayed  forts;  for  cutting  of 
rivers  and  ftreams  ;  for  making  bridges  and 
paffes;  for  improving  the  police  of  cities 
and  commonalties  with  new  ordinances  and 
conftitutions,  and  granting  new  franchifes 
and  incorporations  :  fo  that  his  whole  reign 
was  a  perfect  reftoration  of  all  the  decays  of 
former  times. 

Antoninus  Pius,  who  fucceeded  him, 
was  a  learned  prince,  and  had  the  patient  and 
fubtle  wit  of  a  fchool-man  ;  infomuch  as  in 
common  fpeech,  which  leaves  no  virtue  un- 

tsixeda 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING,         89 

taxed,  he  was  cd.lhd  CumimSe^or,  "  a  diffecler 
*«  of  a  cumin  feed  :"  fuch  patience  he  had, 
and  fettled  fpirit,  to  enter  into  the  leaft  and 
mofl  preclfe  differences  of  caufes ;  a  fruit,  no 
doubt,  of  the  exceeding  tranquillity  and  fere- 
nityofhismind;  which  (being  no  ways  charg- 
ed or  incumbered  either  with  fear,  remorfe, 
or  fcruple,  but  having  been  noted  for  a  man 
of  the  pureft  goodnefs,  without  all  affecla- 
tion,  that  has  reigned)  made  his  underfland- 
ing  continually  prefent  and  colle6led:  he  like- 
wife  approached  a  degree  nearer  unto  Chrifli- 
anity,  and  became,  as  Jgrippa  fald  unto  St. 
Paul,  *'  half  a  Chriftian;"  holding  their 
religion  and  law  in  good  opinion ;  and  not 
only  ceafmg  perfecution,  but  giving  way  to 
the  advancement  of  Chriflians. 

There  fucceeded  him  the  firfl  divifratres^ 
the  two  adoptive  brethren,  Lucius  Commodus 
Verus,  fon  to  'ETius  Verus^  who  delighted 
much  in  the  fofter  kind  of  learning,  and  was 
wont  to  call  the  poet  Martial  his  Virgil,  and 
Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus,  who  long  furviv- 
ed  and  obfcured  his  colleague,  was  named 
the  Phllofopher ;  and  as  he  excelled  all  the 
xefl  in  learning,  fo  he  excelled  them  likewlfe 

in 


pO         ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

in  perfedion  of  all  royal  virtues ;  fo  that 
'Julian  the  emperor,  in  his  book  intitled, 
*'  Casfares,'*  which  was  a  kind  of  fatire,  to 
deride  all  his  predeceflbrs,  feigned  that  they 
were  all  invited  to  a  banquet  of  the  Gods  ; 
and  S'lkniiSy  the  Jefter,  fat  at  the  lower  end  of 
the  table,  and  beftowed  a  fcofF  upon  every 
one  as  they  came  in;  but  \Y\\^n  Marcus  Phi- 
hfophus  came  in,  Silenus  was  troubled  and 
out  of  countenance,  having  nothing  to  ob- 
ject, except  his  patience  towards  the  hu- 
mours of  his  wife.  And  the  virtue  of  this 
prince  continuing  with  that  of  his  predecef- 
for,  made  the  name  of  Antoninus  fo  facred  in 
the  world,  that  though  it  was  extremely 
diflionoured  in  Comjnodus,  Caracalla  and  He- 
Uogabalus,  who  all  bore  that  name,  yet  when 
Alexander  Severus  refufed  the  name,  becaufe 
he  was  a  ftranger  to  the  family,  the  Senate 
with  one  acclamation  faid,  Sluotnodo  Augujius 
Jic  et  Antoninus.  In  fuch  renown  and  venera- 
tion was  the  name  of  thefe  two  princes  in 
thofe  days,  that  they  would  have  had  it  as 
a  perpetual  addition  hi  all  the  emperor's 
titles.  In  this  emperor's  time,  alfo,  the 
church,  for  the  mofl  part,  was  in  peace  :  fo 
that  in  this  feries  of  fix  princes,  we  fee  the 

blefTed 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.        9I 

blefled    efFe£ls  of  learning   in    fovereignty, 
painted  forth  in  the  great  table  of  the  world. 

But  for  a  tablet  or  pi  dure  of  fmaller  vo- 
lume, in  my  judgment  the  mofl:  excellent 
is  that  of  Queen  Elizabeth ;  a  princefs  that, 
hzdiPlutarch  been  alive  to  write  lives  by  paral- 
lels, would  have  troubled  him,  I  think,  to 
find  out  for  her   a  parallel  among  women. 
This  lady  was  endued  with  learning  fingular 
in  her  fex,  and  grace  even  among  mafculine 
princes  ;  whether  we  fpeak  of  learned  lan- 
guages, or  of  fclence,   modern   or  ancient, 
divinity  or  humanity :  and  to  the  very   laft 
year  of  her  life  fhe  was  accuflomed  to  ap- 
point fet  hours  for  reading,  as  regularly  as 
any  young  ftudent  in  a  Univerfity.    As  for 
her  government,  I  affirm,  that  this  part  of 
the  ifland  never  had  forty-five  years  of  better 
times;  and  jtt  not  through   the  calmnefs 
of  the  feafon,  but  through  the  wifdom  of  her 
government;  for  if  there  is  confidered  on  one 
fide,  the  truth   of  religion  eftablifhed  ;    the 
conftant  peace  and  fecurity  ;  the  good  admi- 
niflration  of  juflice  ;  the  temperate  ufe  of  the 
prerogative  neither  flackened,  nor  too  much 

flrained  ; 


9^  ON   THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

flralned  the  flourifhing  ftate  of  learning; 
fuiting  with  fo  excellent  a  patronefs;  the 
convenient  eftate  of  wealth  and  means,  both 
of  crown  and  fubject ;  the  habit  of  obedi- 
ence, and  the  moderation  of  difcontents; 
and  when  it  is  conlidered  on  the  other  fide, 
the  differences  of  religion ;  the  troubles  of 
neighbouring  flates  ;  the  ambition  of  Spa'in^ 
and  oppoiition  of  Rome ;  and  that  fhe  was 
without  alliances ;  thefe  things,  I  fay,  con- 
lidered, as  I  could  not  have  chofen  an  in- 
flance  fo  recent  and  fo  proper,  fo,  I  fuppofe, 
I  could  not  have  chofen  one  more  remark- 
able or  eminent  to  the  purpofe  now  in  hand ; 
which  is  concerning  the  conjun£lion  of  learn- 
ing in  the  prince,  with  the  felicity  of  the 
people. 


THE 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 


n 


The  INFLUENCE  of   LEARNING 

I     N 

MILITARY    AFFAIRS. 

1" ^EARNING  has  not  only  an  influence 
upon  civil  affairs,  and  the  arts  of  peace^ 
but  it  exercifes  its  power  and  efficacy  alfo  in 
martial  virtue;  as  appears  manifeftly  in  the 
examples  of  Alexander  the  Great,  and  Cce/ar 
the  Didator;  whofe  mihtary  virtues  and 
atchievements  in  war,  it  would  be  needlefs 
to  note  or  recite,  fuice  they  were  the  wonders 
of  the  world :  but  on  their  affecllon  and  zeal 
to  learning,  as  alfo  their  peculiar  perfedioii 
in  the  fame,  it  will  not  be  impertinent  to 
enlarge. 

Alexander  was  bred  and  taught  under 
Anftotle,  who  dedicated  divers  of  his  philo- 
fophical  books  to  him.  He  was  never  with- 
out Cdlijlhenes,  and  feveral  other  great  fcho- 
lars,  who  followed  his  camp,  and  were  his 
perpetual  aflbciates  in  all  his  marches  and 

expe* 


94        ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNINiS. 

expeditions  :  and  in  what  efteem  he  held 
learning,  is  plainly  demonftrated  by  many 
particulars  ;  as  the  envy  which  he  thought 
j^chille5*s  fortune  worthy  of,  in  having  fo 
good  a  recorder  of  his  acls  and  praifes  as 
Homer,  His  judgment  touching  the  precious 
cabinet  of  Darius^  found  amongft  the  refl  of 
the  fpoils ;  of  which,  when  a  queflion  was 
moved,  "  What  thing  was  mofl  worthy  to 
"  be  kept  in  it?"  One  faid  one  thing  ;  and 
another,  another ;  he  gave  fentence  for  Ho* 
mers  works.  His  chiding  letter  to  Arijlotle^ 
after  he  had  publiflied  his  books  of  nature, 
wherein  he  expoflulates  with  him  for  pub- 
lifliing  the  myfleries  of  philofophy;  and 
fends  him  word  :  "  That  he  had  rather  ex- 
*'  eel  all  men  in  learning  and  knowledge, 
*'  than  in  power  and  empire."  There  are 
other  particulars  alfo  to  this  purpofe:  but  as 
to  himfelf,  how  excellently  he  had  improved 
his  mind  with  learning  appears,  or  rather 
Ihrnes,  in  all  his  fayings  and  anfwers,  which 
are  full  of  learning;  wherein,  though  the 
remaiiis  are  few,  you  may  find  deeply  im« 
preffed  the  footfteps  of  all  fciences. 

Though 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         95 

Though  it  may  appear  needlefs  to  recite 
things  that  every  man  knows,  yet,  fince  the 
argument  I  handle  leads  me  to  it,  I  am  glad 
that  men  will  perceive  I  am  as  willing  to 
flatter  an  Alexander^  a  drfar,  or  an  Antoninus^ 
that  lived  many  hundred  years  fince,  as  any 
that  are  now  living ;  for  it  is  dilplaying  the 
glory  of  learning  in  fovereigns  that  I  propofe, 
and  not  a  humour  of  declaiming  in  any  man's 
praife. 

As  to  morals,  let  the  apothegm  of  Alex- 
ander, touching  Diogenes^  be  obferved  firfl: ; 
and  fee  if  it  tends  not  to  the  fettling  of  one 
of  the  greateft  queftions  in  moral  philofo- 
phy  :  "  Whether  he  that  enjoys  outward 
"  things,  or  defpifes  them,  is  the  happier 
*'  man  ?"  For  when  he  faw  Diogenes  con- 
tented with  fo  little,  turning  to  thofe  that 
flood  about  him,  and  mocked  at  his  condi- 
tion, "  Were  I  not,"  fays  he,  "  Alexander ^ 
"  I  could  wilh  to  be  'Diogenes.^''  But  Se7teca, 
in  thiscomparifon,  preferred  Diogenes,  when 
he  faid,  *'  There  was  more  that  Diogenes 
*'  would  have  refufed,  than  Alexander  could 
*'  have  given." 

In 


96         ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

In  natural  knowledge,  let  that  fpeecli  be 
obferved  which  was  ufual  with  him,  *'  That 
"  he  felt  his  mortality  chiefly  in  two  things, 
*'  deep  and  lufl: :"  which  fpeech,  in  truth, 
is  drawn  from  the  depth  of  natural  philo- 
fophy,  and  more  likely  to  have  come  out  of 
the  mouth  of  an  Arijlotle,  or  a  Democntus, 
than  an  jdlexmder ;  feeing  as  well  the  indi- 
gence, as  redundance  of  nature,  reprefented 
by  thofe  two  a<fls,  are  indications  of  death. 

As  to  poetry,  let  this  fpeech  be  obferved, 
when  upon  the  bleeding  of  his  wounds,  he 
called  one  of  his  flatterers,  that  was  wont  to 
afcribe  to  him  divine  honour;  "  Look/* 
fays  he,  "  this  is  the  blood  of  a  man,  not 
*'  fuch  liquor  as  Homer  faid  ran  from  Venuis 
*'  hand,  when  It  was  wounded  by  Diomede  :'*'' 
with  this  faying  making  merry  both  with 
the  poets,  his  flatterers,  and  himfelf. 

In  logic,  take  his  reprehenfion  of  dialectic 
fubtilties,  as  to  the  repelling  and  retorting 
of  arguments,  in  the  touch  he  gave  Cajfander, 
who  was  confuting  the  informers  againft  his 
father  Antipater :  when  Alexander  happened 
to  fay,  "  Do  you  think  thefe  men  would 

*'  have 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING,         ^J 

*'  have  taken  fo  long  a  journey,  if  they  had 
*'  not  juft  can fe  for  complamt?"  Cajfafider 
anfwered,  "  Nay,  this  was  the  very  thing 
"  that  gave  them  encouragement,  being  iii 
*'  hopes  that  their  calumny  at  fuch  a  dif- 
*^  tance  could  not  be  difproved  ;"  *'  See, 
fays  the  king,  *'  the  quirks  of  Arijlotky 
"  to  turn  a  thing  both  pro  and  coru'' 
Neverthelefs,  this  very  art,  which  he  re- 
prehended in  another,  he  knew  well  how  to 
ufe  himfelf,  when  occalion  required,  to  ferve 
his  own  turn  ;  for  it  happened  that  CalUJlhe* 
nes^  whom  Alexander  inwardly  hated,  for 
being  againft  his  new  canonization,  being  a 
very  eloquent  man,  was  defired  at  a  ban- 
quet, by  the  company  at  the  table,  to  chufe 
fome  fubjeft,  for  entertainment  fake,  to 
difcourfe  upon  extempore^  he  confented  ;  and 
pitching  upon  the  praifes  of  the  Macedonian 
nation,  harangued  with  great  applaufe  : 
whereupon  Alexander,  being  difpleafed,  faid, 
"  Upon  a  good  fubject  it  is  eafy  for  any 
*'  body  to  be  eloquent :  but  turn,"  fays  he, 
"  your  flyle,  and  let  us  hear  what  you  can 
"  fay  againfl  us."  Call'ifthenes  undertook  it, 
and  performed  it  with  fuch  virulence,  that 
Alexander  interrupted  him,  and  faid,  "  Ma- 
VoL.  IT.  H   '  "  lice 


98        ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

"  lice  alfo,  as  well  as  a  good  caufe,  infufes 
*'  eloquence." 

For  rhetoric,  to  which  tropes  and  orna- 
ments belong — behold  a  mofl  elegant  ufe  of 
a  metaphor,  with  which  he  galled  Antipater^ 
an  imperious,  tyrannical  governor;  when 
one  of  Antlpaters  friends  was  praifmg  him 
to  Alexander  for  his  great  moderation,  in  not 
degenerating,  as  other  lieutenants  did,  into 
the  P  erf  an  luxury,  the  ufe  of  purple, 
and  throwing  off  the  ancient  Macedonian 
habit:  "  True,"  fays  Alexander^  "  but  An- 
"  tipater  is  all  over  purple  within."  That 
other  metaphor  was  alfo  fine :  when  Par- 
inenio  came  to  him  in  the  plains  of  Arbela^ 
and  fhewed  him  the  vaft  army  of  his  ene- 
mies, which  lying  under  their  view  by  night, 
reprefented,  by  the  infinite  number  of  fires, 
another  ftarry  firmament,  and  thereupon  ad- 
vlfed  him  to  attack  them  by  night ;  "  I  will 
"  not,"  fays  Alexander^  "  fteal  a  vi£lory." 

In  matters  of  policy,  mark  that  mofl  fig- 
hlficant  and  wife  diftin^lion,  which  all  pof- 
terlty  has  embraced,  that  he  made  between 
two  of  his  fingular  friends,  Hephejiion  and 

Craterus, 


%r^- 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         ^9 

Craterus,  when  he  fa'id,  "  That  the  one 
"  loved  Alexander^  and  the  other  loved  the 
"  king ;"  makmg  an  hnportant  dlftuidion 
between  even  the  moft  faithful  fervants  of 
princes,  *'  That  fome  bear  a  true  affection 
'*  to  the  perfons  of  their  mafters,  others  to 
"  their  crown  ^nd  government." 

Let  us  confider,  likewife,  how  notably  he 
taxed  an  error,  common  with  the  counfellors 
of  princes,  who  generally  fuggeft  counfel  ac- 
cording to  the  model  of  their  own  mind  and 
fortune,  not  that  of  their  maflers ;  for  when 
'Darius  made  great  offers  to  Alexander ;  ''  I," 
fays  Farmenlo^  ''  would  accept  them,  if  I 
«'  was  Alexander-.''  to  which  Alexander  re- 
plied, '-'-  And  fo  would  I,  if  I  were  Far* 
"  memo''' 

Lastly;  examine  that  quick  and  acute 
reply  to  his  friends,  when  they  alked  him, 
"  What  he  referved  for  himfelf,  upon  his 
"  giving  fo  many  and  fuch  large  gifts  to 
*'  others?"  "Hope,"  fays  he  :  as  one  who 
well  knew,  that,  when  all  accounts  are  caft 
up  right,  hope  is  the  true  portion,  and,  as 
it  were,  inheritance  of  thofe  that  afpire  to 
H  2  gi-eat 


100       ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING, 

great  things'  This  was  yullus  Co'fars  por- 
tion, when  upon  going  into  Gaid  he  had 
exhaufted  all  his  eftate  by  profufe  largefles. 
This  was  likewife  the  portion  oi  Henry  Duke 
of  Guife,  that  moft  noble  prince,  though  too 
ambitious ;  of  whom  it  was  ufually  faid, 
*'  That  he  was  the  greateft  ufurer  in  all 
<^  France ;  becaufe  all  his  wealth  was  in 
*«  notes,  and  he  had  turned  his  whole  pa- 
**  trimony  into  obligation." 

To  conclude,  therefore,  as  certain  critics 
areufed  to  fay  hyperbolically,  *«  That  if  all 
*«  fciences  were  loft,  they  might  be  found 
*'  in  Virgil 'y'^  fo  it  may  be  truly  faid,  there 
are  the  prints  and  footfteps  of  learning  in 
thofe  few  fpeeches  which  are  reported  of 
this  prince :  the  admiration  of  whom,  when 
1  coniider  him,  not  as  Alexander  the  Great, 
but  as  Arijioile's  fcholar,  has  perhaps  carried 
me  too  far. 

As  iox  Julius  Cajar ^  the  excellency  of  his 
learning  need  not  be  conjedured,  either 
from  his  education,  his  acquaintance,  or  his 
anfwers;  for  this  appears  eminently  in  his 
writings  and  books,  fome  of  which  are  ex- 
tant. 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         lOI 

tant,  others  are  unfortunately  lofl.  We  have 
to  this  day  that  famous  hiftory  of  his  own 
wars,  which  he  named  and  entitled  "  Com- 
*'  mentaries"  only;  in  which  all  fucceeding 
ages  have  admired  the  folid  weight  of  matter 
and  lively  images,  as  well  of  adtions  as  per- 
fons,  joined  with  the  greateft  purity  of  lan- 
guage, and  perfpicuity  of  narration  that  ever 
was:  that  it  was  not  the  eftect  of  a  natural 
gift,  but  of  learning  and  precept,  is  well 
witnefled  by  his  work,  intitled  "  De  Ana- 
*'  logia :"  being  a  grammatical  philofophy, 
wherein  he  labours  to  make  this  fame  vox  ad 
placitum^  to  become  vox  ad  Uclium ;  and  to 
reduce  cuflom  of  fpeech  to  corre£lnefs  of 
judgment,  and  affigned  to  words  their  ge- 
nuine meaning. 

By  the  book  which  he  entitled  *'  Anti- 
"  Cato,"  it  eafily  appears,  that  he  afpired 
as  much  to  vi£lory  of  genius,  as  vidory  of 
war  and  arms  ;  undertaking  therein  a  con- 
fli£l  with  the  pen,  againfl  the  greateft  cham- 
pion of  that  age,  Cicero  the  Orator. 

As  a  monument  of  his  learning,  no  lefs 

ihan  of  his  power,  we  have  the  computation 

H3  of 


102       ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

of  the  year  reformed  by  an  edi6l  of  his  :  a 
plain  evidence  that  he  took  it  to  be  as  great 
a  glory  to  himfelf  to  underftand  well  the 
laws  of  theftars  in  heaven,  as  to  give  laws 
to  men  upon  earth. 

In  his  book  of  Apophthegms,  which  he 
colle6led,  we  fee  he  efteemed  it  more  honour 
to  make  himfelf  a  kind  of  regifter-book,  for 
enterhig  the  wife  and  remarkable  fayings 
of  others,  than  to  have  his  own  fayings  re- 
vered as  oracles,  as  fome  vain  princes,  cor- 
rupted by  flattery,  delighted  in  doing:  and 
yet,  if  I  were  to  enumerate  his  fayings,  as 
Alexander\^  they  are  truly  fuch  as  Solomon 
notes:  *'  The  words  of  the  wife  are  as 
"  flings,  and  like  nails  driven  deep  :"  of 
which  I  will  recite  three  only,  not  fo  won- 
derful for  their  elegance,  as  for  their  force 
and  efficacy. 

First,  then,  he  muft  be  confidered  as 
a  mafler  of  fpeech  who  could,  with  one  word, 
appeafe  a  mutiny  in  his  army.  The  occafioii 
was  this :  it  was  a  cuflom  with  the  Romans^ 
when  their  Generals  fpoke  to  their  army,  to 
ufe  the  word  Milites  \  but  when  the  Magis- 
trates 


ON  THE  PIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         IO3 

flrates  fpoke  to  the  people  to  ufe  the  word 
^uirites.     C^f^^rs  foldlersmuthiied,  and  fe- 
ditloufly  demanded  a  difmiffion :    not  that 
they  really  defired  this,  but  by  fuch  demand 
to  force  Co'far  to  other  conditions :  unfhaken, 
when  filence  was  made,  he  thus  addreffed 
them,  Ite^irites:  by  which  word  he  inti- 
mated, "  That  they  were  already  dlfmlffed." 
The  foldiers  ftruck,  and  utterly  confounded 
at  this,  never  left  Interrupting  him  as  he 
went  on  with  his  fpeech  ;  and,  relinquifhmg 
their  former  demand  of  difmiffion,  made  it 
their  earned  fuit  on  the  other  fide,  that  the 
name  of  Milites  might  be  again  reftored 
them. 

The  fecond  was  thus :  C^far  extremely. 
afFeaed  the  name  of  King;   fome  therefore 
were  hired,  as  he  paffed  by,  in  popular  ac^ 
clamatlon  to  falute  him  King.     He,  findmg 
the  cry  weak  and  thin,  put  off  the  matter 
with  a  left,  as  if  they  had  miflaken  his  fur- 
name  :  -  I  am,''  fays  he,  -  not  King,  but 
•'  C^farr   a  fpeech,    certainly,   ihould  it 
be  exaaiy  fearched,  the  force  and  extent  of 
its  meaning  can  fcarcely  be  expreffed.  Firft, 
it  pretended  a  refufal  of  that  name,  but  not 
H4  ^^' 


J04        ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

ferioufly.  Next  it  fliewed  an  infinite  confi- 
dence and  magnanimity ;  as  if  the  appella- 
tion of  Ctefar  were  a  greater  title  than  that 
of  King;  which  came  to  pafs  accordingly, 
and  has  obtained  even  to  this  day.  But  what 
made  mofl  for  his  purpofe,  this  fpeech,  by 
an  admirable  artifice,  purfued  clofely  its  own 
end ;  for  this  infinuated,  that  the  fenate  and 
people  of  Rome  contended  with  him  about  a 
trifle,  a  name  only,  (for  he  had  long  fince 
the  power  of  a  King)  and  fuch  a  name  as 
many,  even  of  mean  families  bore;  for  Rex 
was  a  furname  of  the  Romans,  as  King  is 
with  us. 

The  lafl  fpeech  I  think  fit  to  mention  here 
was  this :  when  Co'far,  after  the  war  began, 
had  poffefled  himfelf  of  Rome^  and  broken 
open  the  inner  treafury,  to  take  money  out 
for  the  fervice  of  the  war,  Metellus,  as  being 
then  tribune,  refifted  him  ;  to  whom 
Co'far  replied,  "  If  thou  doft  perfift,  thou 
**  art  a  dead  man.'*  Then,  checking  him- 
felf a  little,  he  added,  "  Young  man,  it  is 
*'  harder  for  me  to  fay  this,  than  to  do  it.'* 
A  fpeech  compounded  of  fuch  wonderful 
I  terror 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING       IO5 

terror  and  clemency,  that  nothing  pofTiblj 
could  be  more. 

But  to  difmifs  C^far  ;  it  is  evident,  that 
he  was  fully  fenfible  of  his  own  perfedion 
in  learning  ;  as  appears  by  this,  that  when 
fome  were  wondering  at  Syllas  refolution 
in  refigning  the  didatorfhip,  he  fcorn fully 
faid,  "  Sylla  knew  not  letters,  and  could  not 
diaate." 

I  fhould  now  put  an  end  to  this  difcourfc 
concerning  the  near  alliance  of  military  vir- 
tue and  learning,  (for  what  in  this  kind  can 
come  after  Alexander  and  C^far^  were  I  not 
charmed  with  an  example  of  fmgular  mag- 
nanimity in  the  propofal,  and  (kill  in  the  ex- 
ecution, becaufe  it  io  fuddenly  pafled  from 
fcorn  to  wonder.  It  is  of  Xenophon,  the 
philofopher,  who  went  from  Socrates' s  fchool 
into  A/ta,  with  Cyrus  the  younger,  in  his 
expedition  againfh  King  Artaxerxes.  This 
■Xenophoriy  at  that  time  was  a  youth,  and 
never  had  feen  army  or  camp ;  nor  had  he 
then  any  command  in  the  army,  but  went 
only  as  a  volunteer,  to  enjoy  the  converfa- 

tion 


I06      ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING^ 

tion  of  his  friend  Proxenus,  He  was  by 
chance  prefent,  when  Falinus  came  with  an 
cmbaffy  from  the  great  king  to  the  Grecians, 
after  Cyrus  was  (lain  in  the  field,  and  the 
Grecians,  but  an  handful  of  men,  having  loft 
their  general  in  the  heart  of  the  provinces 
of  Perjia,  cut  off  from  their  own  coun- 
try, by  the  great  diflance,  and  very  great  and 
deep  rivers;  the  embaffy  imported,  that 
they  fhould  deliver  up  their  arms,  and  fub- 
mit  themfelves  to  the  king's  mercy ;  to 
which  embafly,  before  anfwer  was  publicly 
made,  feveral  of  the  army  conferred  fami- 
liarly with  Falinus:  and  amongft  the  reft 
X^«o^y?ro«  happened  to  fay,  *'  Why,  Falinus, 
*'  we  have  now  but  thefe  two  things  left 
*'  us,  our  arms,  and  our  courage:  and  if 
"  we  yield  up  our  arms,  what  ufe,  pray, 
*'  will  our  courage  be  to  us  ?"  Here  Fali- 
nus,  fmiling,  faid,  "  If  I  be  not  deceived, 
*'  young  gentleman,  you  are  an  Athenian, 
*'  and  ftudy  philofophy  ;  and  thefe  are  pret- 
**  ty  things  that  you  fay,  but  you  are  very 
*'  much  miftaken  if  you  think  your  courage 
"  a  match  for  the  king's  forces."  Here  was 
the  fcorn  :  the  wonder  follows.  This  fchool- 

novice 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.         I07 

novice  and  philofopher,  after  all  the  cap- 
tains and  commanders  were  murdered  by 
treachery,  conduded  back  ten  thoufand 
foot,  from  Babylon  into  Greece,  through  the 
midtt  of  the  king's  provinces,  m  defpite  of 
all  his  forces,  to  the  aftonilhment  of  the 
world,  and  the  no  fmall  encouragement  of 
the  Greclam,  from  that  time,  to  an  mvafioii 
and  fubverfion  of  the  Perfan  monarchy: 
which,  indeed,  foon  after,  Jafon  the  Thefa- 
Uan  defigned;  Agefiausth^  Spartan  M^m^t- 
ed-  and  at  laft  Alexander  the  Macedonian 
atchieved;  all  ftirred  up  by  this  brave  lead- 
ing  aa  of  that  young  fcholar. 


THE 


I08      ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  LEARNING 

O      N 

MORAL     VIRTUE. 

T   ET  us  proceed  from  imperial  and  mili- 
tary, to  moral  virtue,  and  that  which  is 
the  virtue  of  private  men.     Firft,  that  of  the 
poet  Is  a  moft  certain  truth  : 

-'  Scilicet  Ingenuas  didicijje  fidcUtcr  Aries, 
Emollit  mores,    }iec  Jinit  ejfc  fcros. 

For  learning  frees  mens  minds  from  hru- 
talitj  and  barbarifm  ;  but  yet  the  emphafis 
had  need  be  upon  the  word  JiJeliter,  "  tho- 
*'  roughly;"  for  a  fuperficial  knowledge 
turns  rather  to  the  contrary.  Learning,  I 
fay,  takes  away  levity,  rafhnefs,  and  in- 
folence,  whilfl  it  fuggefts  all  dangers  and 
doubts,  together  with  the  thing  itfelf,  ba- 
lances the  weight  of  reafons  and  arguments 
on  both  fides  :  turns  back  the  firfl  offers  and 
pleafing  conceits  of  the  mind  as  fufpeded, 

and 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.       lO^ 

and  teaches  us  not  to  tread  a  Rep  without 
fearching  and  examining  our  way. 

The   fame  extirpates  vain  and  excefTive 
admiration,    which    is   the  very  root  of  all 
weaknefs.     For  we    admire  things,   either 
becaufe  they  are  new,  or  becaufe  they  are 
great.     As  to  novelty,  there  is  no  man  that 
is  thoroughly  learned  and  contemplative,  but 
hath  this  imprinted  upon  his  heart :  Nil  novl 
fiiper  terrain  :  "  There  is  nothing  new  under 
"  the  fun.'*  Neither  will  any  man  much  won- 
der at  the  play  of  puppets,  who  puts  his  head 
behind  the  curtain,  and  fees  the  inftruments 
and  wires  that  caufe  the  motion.  For  great- 
nefs ;  as  Alexander  the  Great,  after  he  had 
been  ufed  to  mighty  battles  and  conquefts 
in  JJla,  receiving  fometimes  letters  out  of 
Greece,  of  fome  expeditions  and  fkirmiflies, 
w4iich  were  commonly  for  a  bridge,  or  caflle, 
or  for  the  taking  fome  town  at  the  mofl, 
was  wont  to  fay,  *'  It  feemed  to  him  that 
*'  news  was   brought  him  of  the  battle  of 
"  the  frogs  and  the  mice  that  Homer  talks 
*'  of:"  fo,  certainly,to  a  man,  that  contem- 
plates  the  univerfal  frame   of  nature,    the 
globe  of  the  earth,  with  the  men  upon  it^ 

fetling 


no      ON  THE  DIGNITY  OT  LEARNING. 

fetting  afide  the  divinity  of  their  fouls,  will 
feem  nothing  greater  than  a  hillock  of  ants, 
fome  of  which  creep  and  run  up  and  down 
with  grains  of  corn,  others  with  their  eggs, 
fome  empty,  all  here  and  there  about  a  little 
heap  of  duft. 

Again,  learning  takes  away,  or  at  leaft 
mitigates  the  fear  of  death,  and  of  adverfc 
fortunes ;  which  is  one  of  the  greatefl  impe- 
diments to  virtue  and  manners  :  for  if  a 
man's  mind  be  feafoned  and  deeply  afFedled 
with  the  contemplation  of  mortality,  and 
the  corruptible  nature  of  things,  he  will  be 
of  Ept^etus'^  fentiment;  who  going  out 
one  day,  and  feeing  a  woman  weeping  for 
her  pitcher  that  was  broke ;  and  going  out 
the  next  day,  and  feeing  another  woman  la- 
menting the  death  of  her  fon,  faid,  Heri, 
*vidi  fragilem  frangi ;  Hodie,  vidi  mortalem 
mori:  "  Yefterday  I  faw  a  little  thing  broke  ; 
«  to-day  I  faw  a  mortal  thing  die."  Where- 
fore Virgil  did  very  wifely  to  couple  the 
knowledge  of  caufes,  and  the  conquefl  of  all 
fear  together,  as  concomitants  : 

Felix 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.       Ill 

Felix  qui  potu'it  rerum  cognofcere  caufas, 
^xique  metus  omnes  et  inexorah'ilefatum 
Subjecit  pcdibusy  Jireptumque  Acherontis  avar'i. 

**  Happy  the  man,  who,  fludylng  nature's  laws, 
"  Through  knowxi  efFeds  can  trace  the  fecret  caufe  : 
"  His  mind  pofleffing  in  a  quiet  flate, 
'•  Fearlefs  of  fortune,  and  refigned  to  fate." 

Dryden. 

It  would  be  too  tedious  to  run  over  the 
particular  remedies  which  learning  admi- 
niflers  to  all  the  difeafes of  the  mind;  fome- 
times  purging  out  the  ill  humours  ;  Ibme- 
times  opening  obftruftions ;  fometimes  help- 
ing digeftions  :  fometimes  exciting  appetite ; 
and  often  healing  its  wounds  and  ulcers : 
therefore  I  will  conclude  with  what  feems 
to  be  the  fum  of  all,  which  is,  that  learn- 
ing difpofes  and  inclines  the  mind,  never 
to  acquiefce  wholly,  and  to  continue  fix- 
ed and  benumbed,  as  it  were,  in  its  own 
defers,  but  to  be  ftill  roufing  itfelf,  and 
breathing  after  growth  and  advancement. 
The  illiterate  man  knows  not  what  it  is  to 
defcend  into  himfelf,  or  to  call  himfelf  to 
account,  or  the  pleafure  of  that  life  which 
is  fenfible  of  its  growing  every  day  better. 
If  he  chance  to  have  any  virtue,  he  will  be 

boaft. 


112      ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

boafting  of  it  to  be  fure,  expofe  it  every 
where  to  full  view,  and  perhaps  ufe  it  to 
his  own  advantage,  but  negle6l  to  improve 
andincreafe  it.  Again,  if  he  labours  under 
any  imperfection,  he  will  ufe  art  and  induflry 
to  conceal  and  colour  it,  but  very  little  to 
amend  it ;  like  an  ill  mower  that  mows  on 
flill,  and  never  whets  his  fcythe.  On  the 
other  fide,  a  learned  man  does  not  only  em- 
ploy his  mind,  and  exercife  his  virtues,  but 
is  continually  reforming  himfelf,  and  making 
progrefs  in  virtue.  Nay,  to  fum  up  the 
whole,  certain  it  is,  that  truth  andgoodnefs 
differ  but  as  the  feal  and  the  impreffion  ;  for 
goodnefs  is  truth's  impreffion;  and,  on  the 
contrary,  the  ftorms  of  vice  and  paffion 
break  from  the  clouds  of  error  and  falfliood. 


OF 


tJN  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.        II3 

Of  the  power  and  SOVEREIGNTY 
b    F 
LEARNING. 

FROM  virtue  let  us  pafs  to  power  and  em- 
pire, and  confider,  whether  there  be  any 
where  found  fo  much  power  and  fovereignty, 
as  that  wherewith  learning  invefts  and 
crowns  man's  nature.  We  fee  the  dignity 
of  commanding  is  according  to  that  of 
the  comm.anded.  The  authority  over  beads 
and  cattle,  as  herdfmen  and  fhepherds  have, 
is  a  thing  contemptible:  command  over 
children,  as  fchool-m.iftershave,  is  a  matter 
of  fmall  honour :  authority  over  galley-flaVes 
is  a  difparagement  rather  than  an  honour: 
neither  is  the  command  of  tyrants  much 
better  over  a  fervlle  people,  ftripped  of  all 
fplrit  and  generofity  of  mind :  therefore  it 
has  ever  been  held,  that  honours  in  free  mo- 
narchies, or  common  wealths,  have  more 
fweetnefs  than  under  tyrants:  becaufe  a 
Vol.  II.   '  I  com* 


114      ON  THE  DIGNITY  Ol?  LEARNING. 

command  over  the  willing  is  more  honourable, 
than  over  the  forced  and  compelled.  And 
therefore  Virgil^  when  he  exerts  himfelf  to 
draw  forth,  from  the  depth  of  art,  the  very 
beft  of  human  honours,  he  afligned  that  to 
Augujlm  Cafar,  in  thefe  very  words : 


V'i£iorque  volentes 
Per  popuks  dat  jurat  viamque  a^eHat  Olympo. 

Georg.  IV. 

•*  Thus  have  I  fung  of  fields,  and  flacks,  and  trees, 
•*  And  of  the  waxen  work  of  lab'ring  bees  ; 
•'  While  mighty  Ccefar^  thund'ring  from  afar, 
•*  Seeks  on  Euphrates  banks  the  fpoils  of  war  : 
•*  With  conqu'ring  arts  aflerts  his  country's  caufc, 
*'  With  arts  of  peace  the  willing  people  draws  : 
•'  On  the  glad  earth  the  golden  age  renews, 
**  And  his  great  father's  path  to  heav'a  purfues," 

Drydekt. 

But  the  empire  of  knowledge  is  far  high- 
er than  the  empire  over  the  will,  though 
free  and  unfettered  ;  for  that  has  a  dominion 
over  reafon,  belief,  and  even  the  underfland* 
ing,  which  is  the  higheil  part  of  the  foul, 
and  gives  law  to  the  will  itfelf.  Without 
queflion,  there  is  no  power  on  earth  which 
fets  up  its  throng  in  the  fpirit  and  fouls  of 

men. 


O^  THE  tUGNiTY  OF    LEARNIN(5.       II5 

men,  and  in  their  thoughts  and  imaginations, 
their  affentalfo  and  belief,  equal  to  learning 
and  knowledge ;  and  therefore  we  fee  the 
deteftable  and  extreme  pleafure  that  Arch- 
heretics,  falfe  prophets,  and  great  impofliors 
are  raviflied  and  tranfported  with,  when 
once  they  find  that  they  have  begun  to  reign 
in  the  faith  and  confclences  of  men  :  indeed, 
fo  great,  that  he  who  has  once  tafted  it,  can 
hardly  be  brought  by  any  perfecution  or 
torment,  to  relinquifh  his  fovereignty.  And 
as  this  is  what  is  called  in  the  Revelations, 
*'  The  depth  or  profoundnefs  of  Satan  ;'*  fo, 
on  the  contrary,  a  jufl:  and  lawful  fovereignty 
over  mens  minds^  eftablifhed  by  the  mere 
evidence  and  moft  delightful  recommenda* 
tions  of  truth,  approaches  certainly,  as  near 
as  poffible,  to  the  fimilitude  of  divine  power* 

As  to  fortunes  and  honours,  the  munifi- 
cence of  learning  is  not  fo  confined  to  the 
enriching  and  adorning  of  whole  kingdoms 
and  commonwealths,  as  not  like  wife  to  ad- 
vance the  fortunes  and  eflates  of  private 
perfons  t  for  it  is  an  ancient  obfervation  ; 
*'  That  Homer  has  given  more  men  their 
*'  living  than  Sylla,  Ccefar^  or  Augujlm\* 
I  2  not- 


Il6      ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

notwithftanding  their  numerous  largefle&, 
donatives,  and  diftributions  of  lands.  Cer- 
tainly, it  is  hard  fo  hy,  whether  arms  or 
letters  have  advanced  greater  numbers ; 
and  in  the  cafe  of  fovereignty  we  fee,  that 
if  arms  or  right  of  inheritance,  have  carried 
away  the  kingdom  ;  yet  learning  has  gene- 
rally carried  the  priefthood,  which  has  ever 
flood  in  competition  with  empire. 

If  we  conflder  the  delight  and  pleafure 
of  knowledge,  affuredly  it  far  furpafles  all 
other  pleafures.  Shall  the  pleafures  of  the 
afFe6lions  as  far  exceed  the  delights  of  the 
fenfes,  as  the  happy  obtaining  of  a  defire, 
does  a  fong,  or  a  fupper?  And  fhall  not,  by 
the  fame  gradation,  the  pleafures  of  the  in- 
tellect tranfcend  thofe  of  the  affeClions  ?  All 
other  pleafures  bring  fatiety ;  and  after  they 
have  been  ufed,  and  are  grown  familiar, 
their  verdure  and  beauty  fades:  whereby 
we  are  intruded,  that  they  were  not  truly 
pure  and  fincere  pleafures,  but  fhadows  only ; 
and  that  it  was  the  novelty  which  pleafed, 
rather  than  the  quality  :  whence  voluptuous 
men  often  turn  monks ;  and  the  declining 
age  of  ambitious  princes  is  commonly  fad, 

and 


ON  THE'DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.       JtJ 

and  befieged  with  melancholy ;  but  in  know- 
ledge there  is  no  fatiety,  but  enjoyment  and 
appetite  are  perpetually  interchangeable :  fo 
that  this  delight  mufl:  needs  be  good  in  itfelf 
(imply,  without  accident  or  fallacy. 

Neither  does  that  pleafure  which  Lu- 
cretius defcribes  hold  the  loweft  place  in  the 
mind  of  man  : 

Suave  marl  magno  turhanubus  ^quora  ven- 
tis,  &c. 

*'  It  is  a  delightful  view,"  fays  he,  '*  to 
**  fland  or  walk  upon  the  fhore,  and  to  fee 
'*  a  (hip  tofled  upon  the  fea  in  a  tempeft.  A 
**  pleafure  likewife  to  behold  from  a  lofty 
**  turret  two  armies  joining  battle  upon  a 
•*  plain :  but  nothing  is  pleafanter  to  a  man 
*'  than  a  mind  planted  by  learning,  in  the 
*'  citadel  of  truth,  from  whence  it  may  de- 
**  fcry  the  errors  and  wanderings,  the  per- 
*'  turbations  and  labours  of  other  men." 

Lastly:  omitting  thafe  vulgar  argu- 
ments, that  by  learning  only  man  excels  his 
own  fpecies,  and  that  by  the  help  of  learn- 
I3  ing 


Il8       ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

ing  he  afcends  in  his  underftanding,  even  to 
the  heavens,  to  which  in  body  he  cannot : 
let  us  conclude  this  differtation  concerning 
the  excellency  of  learning,  with  that  good, 
whereunto  man's  nature  mofl:  afpires,  which 
is  immortality  and  eternity.  For  to  this 
tends  generation,  the  ennobling  of  families, 
buildings,  foundations,  monuments,  fame, 
and,  in  fhort,  the  fum  of  human  defires. 
But  we  fee  how  much  more  durable  the  mo- 
numents of  genius  and  learning  are,  than 
thofe  of  works  and  manufa61:ures.  Have 
not  the  verfes  of  Homer  continued  above 
twenty- five  centuries,  without  the  lofs 
of  a  fyllable  or  letter?  During  which 
time  an  infinite  number  of  palaces,  tem- 
ples, caftles  and  cities,  have  decayed  and 
fallen,  or  been  demolifhed.  The  true 
pidures  or  flatues  oi Cyrus ^  Alexander^  Ccefar, 
nay,  of  khigs  and  princes  of  much  later, 
years,  cannot  poflibly  now  be  had  ;  for  the 
originals,  worn  away  long  fince  with  age, 
are  perifhed;  and  the  copies  daily  lofe  of 
thsir  primitive  refemblance;  but  the  images 
of  mens  genius  remain  entire  in  books  for 
ever,  exempt  from  the  injuries  of  time,  be- 
caufe  capable  of  perpetual  renovation  ;   tho' 

they 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OP   LEARNING.       1 1^ 

they  cannot  properly  be  called  images  nei- 
ther, becaufe  they  are  perpetually  generat- 
ing, as  it  were,  and  fcattering  their  feed  in 
the  minds  of  men,  and  railing  and  procreating 
infinite  actions  and  opinions  in  fucceeding 
ages.  Now,  if  the  invention  of  the  Ihip 
was  thought  fo  noble  and  wonderful  a  thing, 
which  tranfports  riches  and  merchandife 
from  place  to  place,  and  confociates  the  moil 
remote  regions,  by  a  participation  of  their 
produdions  and  commodities :  how  much 
more  are  letters  to  be  magnified,  which,  as 
ihips  furrowing  the  ocean  of  time,  conne(!l 
the  moft  diftant  ages,  by  a  commerce  and 
corefpondence  in  genius  and  invention  ? 

Nay,  further,  we  fee  fome  of  the  philo-r 
fophers  that  were  mofl  funk  in  matter  and 
fenfuality,  and  leafl  divine,  and  who  pe- 
remptorily denied  the  immortality  of  the 
foul,  yet,  driven  to  it  by  the  force  of  truth, 
granted,  that  whatfoever  motions  and  ac- 
tions the  foul  of  man  could  perform  without 
the  organs  of  the  body,  theie  might  pro- 
bably remain  after  death :  that  is,  fuch  as 
were  the  motions  in  the  underflanding,  but 
1 4  not 


I20      ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING. 

not  of  the  afFe6lions.  So  immortal  and  in- 
corruptible a  thing  did  knowledge  feem  to 
them.  But  we,  upon  whom  divine  revela- 
tion has  fhone,  defpifing  thefe  rudiments, 
thftfe  cheats  and  delufions  of  the  fenfes, 
know  that  not  only  the  underflanding,- but 
alfo  the  affe6lions  purified;  not  only  the 
foul,  but  the  body  too  fhall  be  advanced  in 
due  time  to  immortality;  but  it  mufl:  be 
remembered,  that  in  the  proofs  of  the  dig- 
nity of  knowledge,  I  did,  from,  the  very 
beginning,  feparate  divine  from  human  tef- 
timony,  which  method  I  have  conflantly 
purfued,  and  fo  handled  them  both  apart. 

But  although  this  be  true,  neverthelefs, 
I  by  no  means  take  upon  me,  nor  do  I  think 
it  poffible,  by  any  plending  of  mine,  in  the 
caufe  of  learning,  to  reverfe  the  judgment, 
either  of  M,fop\  cock,  who  preferred  the 
barley-corn  b  fore  the  gem ;  or  of  Midas^ 
who  being  chofe  judge  between  Apollo^  pre- 
fident  of  the  Mufes,  and  Fan^  God  of  the 
flocks,  judged  for  plenty;  or  of  Pans,  who 
judged  for  beauty  and  pleafure,  defpifing 
wifdom  and  power ;  or  of  Agrippinas  choice : 

Occidat 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  OF  LEARNING.       121 

OccUat  matrem^   modo  hnperet:    *'  Let  him 
<*  kill  his  mother,  provided  he  rule:'*  pre- 
ferring empire  with  conditions,  be  they  ever 
fo  deteflable  :  or  ofUfyJfes ;  ^i  vettdamjuam 
pr^tuUt  immortalitati ;   "  Who  preferred  his 
old  woman  to  immortality:  being  indeed  a  type 
of  thofe  who  prefer  cuftom  be  fore  all  excel  len- 
cy;  and  a  number  of  the  like  popular  judg- 
ments ;  for  thefe  things  will  continue  as  they 
have  been;  but  fo  will  that  alfo  continue 
upon  which  learning  has  ever  relied,  as  upon 
a  mofl  firm  foundation   that  can  never  be 
{haken:    Jujiijicata  eft  Japientta  a  filh  Juts: 
*^    Wifdom  is  juflified    by    her  children." 
Matt.  xi. 


OF 


122      ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS, 


OF    THE    ACTS    OF    MERIT 


TOWARDS 


LEARNING, 


'T^HE  a£ls  and  works,  pertaining  to  the 
advancement  of  learning,  are  conver- 
fant  about  three  obje-^s  :  the  feats  of  learn- 
ing; the  books  of  learning;  and  about  the 
perfons  of  learned  nien.  For  as  water,  whe- 
ther falling  from  the  dew  of  heaven,  or 
rifing  from  the  fprings  of  the  earth,  eafily 
fcatters  and  lofes  itfclf  in  the  ground,  except 
it  be  colleded  into  fome  receptacle,  where 
it  may  by  union,  comfort  and  fuftain  itfelf; 
for  which  purpofe  the  ingenuity  of  man  has 
invented fpring-heads,  conduits,  cifterns,  and 
pools;  and  beautified  them  alfo  with  divers 
ornaments,  ferving  for  magnificence  and 
flate,  as  well  as  for  ufe  and  necefiity ;  fo  this 
moft  precious  liquor  of  knowledge,  whether 
it  diflils  from  divine  infpiration,  or  fprings 
from  human  fenfe,  would  foon  all  perifh  and 

vanifli, 


I 


ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.        123 

vanifli,  if  it  were  not  preferved  in  books, 
traditions  and  conferences ;  efpecially  in  par- 
ticular places  defigned  to  that  end,  as  Uni- 
verfities,  Colleges,  and  Schools  ;  where  it 
may  both  have  fixed  flations,  and  power  and 
ability  to  unite  and  colled  itfelf  into  a  body. 

First,  the  works  which  concern  the 
feats  of  the  Mufes  are  four :  foundations  of 
Houfes;  endowments  of  revenues  ;  grant  of 
privileges ;  inftitutions  and  ftatutes  for  go- 
vernment: all  tending  to  privatenefs  and 
quietnefs  of  life,  and  a  difcharge  from  cares 
and  troubles;  much  like  FirgiPs  requifites 
for  the  building  of  hives,  in  order  to  mak^ 
honey : 

Prlnclplo  fedes  ap'ibus,  Jlatioque petenda 
^uo  nequejic  ventis  aditusy  ^c. 

ViRG.  Georg.  IV. 

**  Firft ;  for  thy  bees  a  quiet  ftation  find, 
<'  And  lodge  them  under  covert  of  the  wind." 

Dryden, 

But  the^  works  touching  books  are  prin- 
cipally two:  firfl,  libraries,  wherein,  as  in 
flately  monuments,  the  relics  of  the  ancient 

faints. 


124       ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS. 

faints,  full  of  true  virtue,  and  that  without 
delufion  or  impoflure,  are  preferved  and  re- 
pofed.  Secondly,  new  editions  of  authors, 
furnifhed  with  naore  correal  impreffions, 
more  faithful  tranflations,  more  ufeful  com- 
ments, more  diligent  annotations,  and  the 
like  train. 

Again,  the  works  which  regard  the  per- 
fons  of  learned  men,  befides  the  advancing 
and  countenancing  of  them  in  general,  are 
likewifetwo:  the  reward  and  defignation  of 
readers  in  fciences  already  invented  and 
known;  and  of  writers  and  enquirers,  con- 
cerning any  parts  of  learning  not  hitherto 
fufficiently  laboured  and  improved. 

These  are  briefly  the  works  and  a6t:s, 
wherein  the  merits  of  renowned  princes,  and 
other  illuftrious  perfonages,  towards  the  flate 
of  learning,  have  Ihone. 

As  for  any  particular  commemorations  of 
perfons  that  h-ave  deferved  well  of  learning, 
when  I  think  thereupon,  I  call  to  mind  that 
of  Cicero,  which,  after  his  return,  put  him 
upon  giving  general  thanks :  ''  It  is  diificult 

«'  not 


ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.       125 

*'  not  to  pafs  by  fome  one,  and  ungrateful 
*'  to  pafs  by  any  one."  Let  us  rather,  ac- 
cording to  the  advice  of  the  fcripture,  "  look 
"•  unto  that  part  of  the  race  which  is  fet 
"  before  us,  than  look  back  unto  thofe 
''  things  which  are  behind  us." 


DEFECTS 

O       F 

LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS. 

pIRST,  therefore,  amongfl:  fo  many  noble 
foundations  of  colleges  throughout  Eu- 
rope, I  wonder  they  (hould  be  all  deftined 
to  particular  profeifions,  and  none  dedicated 
to  the  free  and  univerfal  ftudies  of  arts  and 
fciences  :  for  if  men  judge  that  all  learning 
fhould  be  referred  to  ufe  and  adion,  they 
judge  right ;  but  yet  it  is  eafy  this  way  to 
fall  into  the  error  cenfured  in  the  ancient 
fable ;  in  which  the  other  parts  of  the  body 

entered 


126      ON  LitERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS* 

entered  an  action  againfl  the  ftomach,  be« 
caufe  it  neither  performed  the  office  of  mo- 
tion ;  as  the  limbs  do,  nor  of  fenfe,  as  the 
head  does ;  though  it  was  the  flomach  that 
conco£led)  digefted,  and  diftributed  nourifli- 
ment  to  the  reft  of  the  body:  juft  fo,  the 
man  that  thinks  philofophy  and  univerfal 
contemplation  a  vain  and  idle  ftudy,  does  not 
confider  that  all  profeffions  and  arts  are 
fupplied  with  materials  and  ftrength  from 
thence  :  and  I  am  verily  perfuaded,  that  this 
very  thing  has  been  a  great  caufe  that  hath 
retarded  the  progreffion  of  learning  hitherto  ; 
becaufe  thefe  fundamental  fciences  have  been 
ftudied  fuperficially,  and  deeper  draughts 
have  not  been  taken  of  them.  For  if^you 
will  have  a  tree  bear  more  fruit  than  ufual, 
it  is  in  vain  to  think  of  applying  to  the 
boughs;  you  muft  ftir  the  earth  about  the 
rooty  and  apply  richer  mould,  or  you  do 
nothing.  Nor  again  is  it  to  be  pafled  over 
in  filence,  that  this  dedication  of  colleges 
and  focieties,  only  to  the  ufe  of  profeffory 
learning,  has  not  only  been  an  enemy  to 
the  growth  of  fciences,  but  has  contributed 
likewife  to  the  prejudice  of  kingdoms  and 
ftates.  Hence  it  is  that  princes,  when  they 
I  would 


I 


ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.       127 

would  make  choice  of  miniflers  fit  for  the 
affairs  of  flate,  find  about  them  a  marvellous 
folitude  of  fuch  men;  for  this  reafon,  be- 
caufe  there  is  no  collegiate  education  defigned 
to  this  end,  where  fuch  as  are  framed  and 
fitted  by  nature  for  that  office,  may,  befides 
other  arts,  fludy  chiefly  hiftory,  modera 
languages,  books,  and  treatifes  of  policy; 
that  fo  they  may  thence  come  m.ore  able  and 
better  furnifhed  to  the  offices  offtate. 

^ND  becaufe  founders  of  colleges  do  plant, 
but  founders  of  le6lures  water;  it  follows 
now  in  order  to  fpeak  of  the  defeS:  which 
is  in  public  kaures.  I  difapprove  then  ex- 
ceedhigly  of  the  fmallnefs  and  meannefs  of 
falaries,  efpecially  with  us,  affigned  to  lec- 
turers, whether  of  arts  or  profeffions.  For 
it  is  of  mighty  importance  to  advancement 
in  fciences,  that  profefTors  in  every  kind,  be 
chofen  out  of  the  ableft  and  mofl  fufficient 
men ;  as  thofe  whofe  labour  is  not  for  tran- 
fitory  ufe,  but  to  propagate  and  fupply  ofF- 
fpring  to  fcience  for  future  ages.  This  can- 
not be,  unlefs  the  reward  and  conditions  be 
appointed  fuch,  as  may  fully  fatisfy  the  mofl 
eminent  men  in  that  art;  fo  as  he  may  not 

think 


128      ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS* 

think  It  a  hardfhip  to  fpend  his  whole  life  In 
that  fun£lion,  and  never  defire  to  pra6lrfe* 
Wherefore  that  fclences  may  flourifh,  Da^ 
r/Ws military  lawfhould  be  obferved:  "That 
"  he  who  flaid  with  the  carriage  fliould  have 
"  an  equal  part  with  him  that  went  down  to 
*'  the  battle."  I.  Sam.  xxx.  Elfe  will  the 
carriages  be  ill  attended.  So  profeffors  in 
fciences  are,  as  it  were,  the  prefervers  and 
guardians  of  the  ftores  and  proviiions  of 
learning,  from  whence  men  in  adion  may 
be  furnifhed.  Wherefore  it  is  but  reafon, 
that  their  falaries  be  equal  to  the  gain  of 
pra£litioners.  Otherwife,  if  the  allowances 
appointed  to  the  fathers  of  fciences  are  not 
ample  and  handfome,  it  will  come  to  pafs, 

lit  patrum  invalid!  refcrant  Jejunia  natit 

ViRG.  Georg.  IIL 

' *'  If  the  fire  be  faint,  or  out  of  cafe, 

*'  He  will  be  copied  in  his  familh'd  race." 

Dryden". 

I  will  note  another  defecfb,  wherein  I  fball 
have  need  to  call  in  fome  alchymift  to  my 
aid ;  fince  this  fe6l  of  men  advife  ftudents  to 
fell  their  books,  and  build  furnaces,  quitting 

and 


ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.       I  29 

and  forfaking  Minerva,  and  the  Mufes,  as 
barren  virgins,  and  applying  themfelves  to 
Vulcan.  Yet,  certainly,  it  mufl  be  coiW 
feffed,  that  to  the  depths  of  contemplative, 
as  well  as  the  fruits  of  operative  fludy,  in. 
fome  fciences,  efpecially  natural  philofophy 
and  phyfic,  books  are  not  the  only  inftru- 
mentals :  the  munificence  of  men  has  not 
been  altogether  wanting;  for  we  fee  fpheres, 
globes,  maps,  &c.  have  been  provided  as 
appurtenances  to  aftronomy  and  cofmogra- 
phy,"  as  well  as  books.  We  fee,  likewife, 
that  fome  places  dedicated  to  theftudy  of 
phyfic  have  gardens  for  the  infpeclion  and 
knowledge  of  fimples  of  all  forts;  and  do 
likewife  command  the  ufe  of  dead  bodies  for 
anatomical  obfervations  :  but  thefe  refpe6t 
very  few  things.  In  general,  be  it  fet  down 
for  a  truth,  that  there  can  hardly  be  made 
any  great  proficiency  in  the  difclofing  and 
unlocking  the  fecrets  of  nature,  unlefs  there 
is  a  plentiful  allowance  for  experiments, 
whether  of  Vulcan  or  D^^dahis  :  "  Furnace 
"  or  engine  :'*  or  any  other  kind  whatfoever. 
And,  therefore,  as  fecretaries  and  emiffarles 
of  princes  are  allowed  to  bring  in  bills  of 
charges,  for  their  diligence  in  the  enquiry 
Vol.  II.  K  and 


130      ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS. 

and  difcovery  of  new  occurrences  and  ftate 
fecrets;  fo  the  refearchers  of  nature  mufl 
J)e  paid  their  expences,  or  elfe  we  fhall  never 
be  advert ifed  of  many  things  moft  worthy 
to  be  known.  For  if  Alexander  fupplied 
Arijioih  with  a  vafl:  fum  of  money  to  hire 
hunters,  fowlers,  fifliers,  and  others,  that 
he  might  come  the  better  appointed  to  com- 
pile a  hiflory  of  Hying  creatures ;  greater 
certainly  is  their  merit  who  wander  not  in 
the  forefts  of  nature,  but  open  themfelves  a 
way  in  the  labyrinths  of  the  art5. 

Another  thing  which  I  find  fault  with 
is  this:  it  is  aii  ufual  pradice,  though  in 
my  opinion  an  abfurd  one,  for  fcholars  in 
the  Univerfities  to  be  entered  too  foon  in 
logic  and  rhetoric  ;  arts  furely  fitter  for  gra- 
duates, than  children  and  novices.  For  thefe 
two,  if  the  matter  be  rightly  taken,  are  in 
the  number  of  the  graveft  fciences;  being 
the  art  of  arts,  the  one  for  judgment,  the 
other  for  ornament.  They  contain  likewife 
rules  and  diredions,  either  for  difpofing  or 
illuftrating  of  matter  ;  and  therefore  for  raw 
and  empty  minds,  which  have  not  yet  ga? 
thered  that  which  Cicero  calls ^/w  ^\^fupelf 


ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.      13I 

kxy  "  fluff  and  variety,"  to  begin  with 
thofe  arts ;  as  if  a  man  having  a  mind  to 
weigh,  meafure,  or  paint  the  wind^  doth 
but  work  this  effe6l,  that  the  virtue  and 
ftrength  of  thefe  arts,  which  are  very  great 
and  extenfive,  are  almoil  made  contemptible, 
and  have  degenerated  either  into  childifh  fo- 
phiftry,  and  ridiculous  affe£lation ;  or  at 
leaft  have  fuffered  much  in  their  reputation. 
And,  further,  the  too  early  and  untimely 
acceffion  to  thefe  arts,  has,  of  necelTity, 
drawn  along  with  it  a  puerile  delivery  and 
handling  of  it,  fuch  as  is  fitted  indeed  to  the 
capacity  of  children.  Another  inftance  that 
I  fhall  bring  of  an  error  grown  long  fince  in- 
veterate in  the  Univerfities,  is  this :  that  in 
the  exercifes  of  the  fchools  there  ufed  to  be 
a  divorce,  very  prejudicial,  between  inven- 
tion and  memory  ;  for  there,  moil:  of  their 
fpeeches  are  either  altogether  premeditated,  fo 
that  they  are  uttered  iii  the  very  precife  form 
of  words  they  were  conceived  in,  and  no- 
thing left  to  invention,  or  merely  extern^ 
pore:  fo  that  very  little  is  left  to  memory  : 
though  in  life  and  pradice  there  is  rarely 
any  ufe  of  either  of  thefe  apart,  but  rather 
of  their  intermixture ;  that  is,  of  notes  or 
K  %  jnemq- 


I3'2       ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS. 

memorials,  and  of  extempore  fpeech  together. 
So  that  by  this  courfe  the  exercifes  do  not 
fit  the  practice,  nor  does  the  image  anfvver 
the  life.     And  it  is  a  rule  ever  to  be  obferved 
in  exercifes,  that  all,   as  near  as  may  be, 
reprefent   thofe  things   which   in   common 
courfe  of  life  ufed  to  be  pra6lifed ;  otherwife 
they  will  pervert  the  motions  and  faculties 
of  the  mind,  and  not  prepare  them  :  the  truth 
of  which  is  not  obfcurely  feen,  when  Uni- 
veriity-men  fet  to  the  pradice  of  their  pro- 
feffions,  or  other  adlions  of  civil  life;  which 
when  they  do,  this  want,  whereof  we  fpeak, 
is   foon   found  out  by   themfelves,  though 
fooner  by   others.    But  this  part,  touching 
the   amendment  of  the  inftitutions  and  or- 
ders of  the  Univerfities,    I  will  conclude, 
with  the  claufe  of  C^far\  letter  to  Opptus 
and  Balbus:  Hoc  quemadmoduin  fieri  poffit,  non- 
nulla  m'lhl  in  jneniem  venlunt^  et  multa  reperlrl 
foJ[funt\  de  lis  rebus  rogo  vos,  ut  cogltaiionem 
fufcipiatis. 

Another  defect  which  I  note  afcends  a 
little  higher  than  the  former :  for  as  the  pro- 
ficlence  of  learning  confifts  much  in  the  wife 
government  and  inftitution  of  Univerfities 


in 


ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS.       I53 

in  particular;  fo  it  would  be  yet  more  ad- 
vanced, if  the  univerfities  in  general,  difperfed 
throughout   all   Europe,   were  united  in   a 
nearer   conjunction   and  correfpondence    by 
mutual  intelligence.     For  there  are,  we  fee, 
many  orders  and  commonalties,  which,  tho' 
they  are  divided  under  diflindt  fovereignties 
and  territories  widely  diftant,   yet  they  con- 
trail and  maintain  a  fociety  and  kind  of  bro- 
therhood one  with  the  other  :  infomuch   as 
they  have  their  prefe6ls,    fome  provincial, 
others  general,  to  whom  they  all  yield  obe- 
dience ;  and  furely,   as  nature  creates  a  bro- 
therhood in  families,    and  mechanical  arts 
contract  a  brotherhood  in  companies,    the 
anointment  of  God  fuperinduces  a  brother- 
hood in  kings  and  bifhops ;  vows  and  rules 
unite  a   brotherhood  in  orders :  fo  in   like 
manner,   there  cannot  but  intervene  a  noble 
and  generous    fraternity   amongft  men    by 
learning  and  illumination,  relating  to  that 
paternity  which  is  attributed  to  God,  who 
is  called  the  "  Father  of  illuminations,"  or 
"  lights." 

Lastly:    this  I  complain  of,  which  I 

touched  on  before,  that  there  has  not  been, 

K3  or 


154      ON  LITERARY  ESTABLISHMENTS. 

or  very  rarely,  any  public  defignation  of  able 
men  who   might  either  write,  or  make  en- 
quiry concerning    fuch  parts  of  learning  as 
have  not  hitherto  been  fufficiently  explored. 
In  which  point  it  would  be  of  great  ufe,   if 
there  were  eredled   a  kind  of  vifitation  of 
learning  ;  and  eftimate  taken,  what  parts  of 
learning  are  rich  and  well  improved;  what 
poor  and  deftitute.    For  the  opinion  of  plenty 
is  amongft  the  caufes  of  want;  and  great 
quantity  of  books   makes  a  {hew  rather  of 
luxury  than  want:  which,  fuperfluity,   ne- 
verthelefs,  is  not  to  be  remedied  by  making 
no  more  books,  but  by  making  more  good 
books  ;  which  may  be  of  fuch  a  kind,  that, 
like  Mofes's  ferpent,  they  may  devour  the 
ferpents  of  the  enchanters. 

The  removing  of  all  thefe  defeats  now 
enumerated,  except  the  laft,  and  of  the  ac- 
tive part  of  the  laft  two,  which  is  the  de- 
fignation of  writers,  are  works  truly  BafiUcal; 
towards  which  the  endeavours  and  induftry 
of  a  private  man  may  be  but  as  an  image  in 
a  crofs  way,  that  can  point  the  way,  but  can- 
not go  it.  But  the  fpeculative  part,  which  be- 
longs 


ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  LEARNING.       I^^ 

longs  to  the  furvey  and  examination  of  learn- 
ing, namely,  what  is  deficient  in  every  par- 
ticular fcience,  is  open  to  the  induftry  even 
of  a  private  man. 


ON  THE  HISTORY  OF   LEARNlNa 


CURELY  the  hiftory  of  the.,  world,  without 
•^  this  part,  may  be  thought  not  unlike  the 
{}i2itut  of  Polyphemus  wkh  his  eye  out;  that 
part  of  the  image  being  wanting,  which  mofl 
reprefents  the  nature  and  fpirit  of  the  perfon* 
And  though  we  fet  down  this  as  deficient, 
yet  we  are  not  ignorant,  that  in  divers  par- 
ticular fciences,  as  of  the  jurifconfults,  the 
mathematicians,    the  rhetoricians,  and  the 
philofophers,  there  are  fet  down  fome  (light 
memorials,  or  certain  dry  relations,  of  the 
feds,  fchools,  books,  authors,  and   fuccef- 
fions  of  fuch  like  fciences:  that  there  are 
likewife  fome  thin,  barren  treatifes  touching 
K4  the 


136      ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  LEARNING. 

the  inventors  of  things  and  arts  ;  but  for  a 
juft  and  univerfal  hiflory  of  learning,  we 
aflert,  that  none  hitherto  has  been  publifhed : 
wherefore  we  will  propound  both  the  argu- 
ment, the  manner  of  contriving,  and  the 
ufe  thereof. 

The  argument  is  no  other  than  a  recital 
from  all  times  of  what  fciences  and  arts  have 
flourifhed  in  any  ages  and  climates  of  the 
world.  Let  there  be  made  a  rehearfal  of 
their  antiquities,  their  advances,  alfo  of  their 
progrefs  through  divers  parts  of  the  world  ; 
for  fciences  fhift  and  remove  no  lefs  than 
people.  Again,  of  their  declenfions,  obli- 
vions, inftaurations.  Let  there  likewife  be 
obfervations  made  through  every  particular 
art,  of  the  occafion  and  original  of  their  in- 
vention; of  their  manner  of  delivery;  of 
their  feveral  adminiflrations  and  manage- 
ment. Let  there  alfo  be  added,  the  feds 
and  controverfies  mofl  famous,  which  have 
taken  up  and  exercifed  learned  men;  the 
fcandals  and  reproaches  to  which  they  lay 
open ;  and  the  praifes  and  honours  beftowed 
oathem.  Let  there  be  noted,  the  chief  au- 
thors. 


ON  THE  HISTORY  OF   LEARNING.       I37 

thors,  the  befl  books,  fchools,  fucceffions, 
academies,  focieties,  colleges,  orders;  and, 
in  iliort,  whatfoever  belongs  to  the  ftate  of 
learning:  but,  above  all,  we  would  have 
this  obferved,  which  is  the  ornament  and 
foul  of  civil  hiftorj,  that  the  caufes  be  com- 
bined with  the  events :  which  is,  that  the 
natures  of  countries  and  people  be  recorded; 
and  the  difpofitions  apt  and  able,  or  unapt 
and  unable  for  various  difciplines ;  the  acci- 
dents of  times  adverfe  or  propitious  to  fci- 
ences;  the  Zealand  mixtures  of  religion; 
the  difcountenance  and  favour  of  laws ;  and, 
kftly,  the  eminent  virtues  and  influence  of 
certain  perfons  for  the  promoting  of  learn- 
ing, and  the  like.  But  our  advice  is,  that 
♦11  thefe  points  may  be  fo  handled,  that  time 
be  not  wafted  in  praife  and  cenfure,  after  the 
manner  of  the  critics,  but  that  the  things  be 
barely  related  in  a  manner  perfedly  hiftori- 
cal,  and  our  own  judgment  fparingly  inter- 
pofed. 

As  to  the  manner  of  compiling  fuch  a 
hiftory,  we  do  efpecialfy  advife,  that  the 
materials  be  drawn,  not  only  from  hiftories 

and 


138       ON  THE  HISTORY  Of  LEARinNG* 

and  critics;  but,  alfo,  that  through  every 
century  of  years,  or  even  lefler  intervals, 
by  a  continued  fequence  of  time,  beginning 
from  the  highefl  antiquity,  the  beft  books 
written  within  thofe  fpaces  of  time  be  con- 
fulted,  to  the  end  that  not  from  a  thorough 
perufal  of  them,  which  would  be  an  endlefs 
work,  but  from  tafte  and  obfcrvation  of  the 
argument,  ftile,  and  method,  the  learned 
genius  of  that  time,  as  by  a  kind  of  charm, 
may  be  called  up  from  the  dead. 

As  to  the  ufe  of  this  work,  it  is  not  de- 
figned  that  the  honour  and  pomp  of  learning 
may  be  celebrated  by  fo  many  Images  every 
way  lurrounding  her;  nor  that  for  the  ar- 
dent affedlion  we  bear  to  learning  we  defire^ 
even  to  curiofity,  to  enquire  and  know,  and 
preferve  whatfoever  to  the  ftate  of  learning 
may  any  way  belong;  but  chiefly  for  a  more 
grave  and  ferious  purpofe.  It  is  in  few  words 
this:  that  by  means  of  fuch  a  relation  as 
we  have  defcribed,  we  conceive  a  very  great 
a^ldition  may  be  made,  to  the  wifdom  and  fkilt 
of  learned  men,  in  the  ufe  and  management 
of  learning;  and  that  the  motions,  pertur* 

bationsj, 


ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  LEARNING.       139 

bations,  vices,  and  virtues  of  intellectual 
matters,  as  w^ell  as  civil,  may  be  noted,  and 
the  beft  regimen  from  thence  drawn  and. 
praClifed ;  for  we  do  not  fuppofe  that  St. 
Aujlhi^  or  St.  Amhrofe^  works  will  make  fo 
wife  a  bifhop  or  a  divine  as  ecclefiaftical 
hiftory  thoroughly  read  and  obferved ;  which 
we  make  no  queftion  would  be  the  cafe  of 
learned  men  alfo  from  the  hiflory  of  learn- 
ing ;  for  what  is  not  fuftained  and  propt  up 
with  examples  and  records,  is  very  apt  to 
fall,  and  is  expofed  to  rafhnefs.  Thus  much 
of  the  hiitory  of  learning. 


ON 


140        ON      CIVIL     HISTORY. 


ON  THE  DIGNITY  AND  DIFFICULTY 

O      F 

CIVIL      HISTORY. 

'TPHE  dignity  and  authority  of  civil  hiflory 
is  eminent  among  human  writings  ;  for 
upon  the  credit  of  this,  the  examples  of 
our  anceftors,  the  viciffitudes  of  affairs,  the 
grounds  of  civil  prudence,  and  laflly,  the 
name  and  fame  of  men  depend:  but  the  dif- 
ficulty is  as  great  as  the  dignity :  for  to  draw 
back  the  mind  in  writing  to  things  paft,  and 
to  make  it  as  it  were  aged,  to  fearch  out 
with  diligence,  to  relate  with  fidelity  and 
freedom;  finally,  to  reprefent  to  the  eye, 
with  beauty  and  clearnefs  of  expreflion,  the 
changes  of  times,  the  charaders  of  perfons, 
the  waverings  of  counfels,  the  turns  and 
windings  of  adbions,  as  of  waters,  the  fub- 
tilties  and  depths  of  pretences,  and  the  fe- 
crets  of  government,  is  a  talk  of  great  pains 
and  judgment;  efpecially  fince  ancient  mat- 
ters 


ON      CIVIL      HISTORY.  14I 

ters  are  fiibjed  to  uncertainty ;  modern,  li- 
able to  danger.     Wherefore  the  errors  alfo 
are  many  which  attend  civil  hiftory :  while 
the  greatefl  part  write  poor  and  vulgar  nar- 
ratives, the  very  reproach  of  hiftory  ;  others 
patch  up,  in  a  rafh  hafte,  and  unequal  con- 
texture, particular  relations,  and  brief  me- 
morials ;  others  run  over  the  heads  only  of 
actions  done ;  others,  on  the  contrary,  purfue 
every  trivial  circumftance,  nothing  belong- 
ing to  the  fum  and  ilTue  of  things :    fome, 
out  of  too  much  indulgence  to  their  own 
genius,  have  the  confidence  to  feign  man/ 
things  :  while  others  add  and  imprint  upon 
affairs  the  image,  not  fo  much  of  their  own 
wit  as  of  their  affedions,  mindful  of  their 
own  fides  and  parties,  but  unfaithful  depo- 
nents of  fad;  fome  every  where  interfperfe 
fuch  politic  obfervations  as  they  mofl  fancy; 
and  feeking  occafion  of  digreffion  for  often- 
tation,  too  flightly  break  off  the  narrative : 
others  are  injudicioufly  prolix  in  their  fpeech- 
es  and  harrangues,  or  even  of  the  very  fads  ; 
fothat  it  is  fufficiently  manifeff,  that  in  the 
writings  of  men  there  is  nothing  found  more 
rare  than  a  juft  hiftory,  and  in  all  parts  com- 
plete and  perfed. 

ON 


142        ON     CIVIL     HISTORY. 

ON      THE      PARTITION 

O    F 

CIVIL     HISTORY. 

/^IVIL  hiftoiy  is  of  three  kinds,  not  un- 
like the  three  forts  of  pidures  or  images : 
for  of  pictures  and  images  we  fee  fome  im- 
perfect and  unfmifhed,  as  wanting  the  lafl 
hand;  others  perfedl  and  finilhed;  others 
again  decayed  and  defaced  with  age.  In  like 
manner  we  will  divide  civil  hiflory,  which 
is  a  fort  of  image  of  actions  and  times,  into 
three  kinds,  agreeable  to  thofe  of  pidtures; 
namely,  memorials,  perfedl  hiftory,  and  an* 
tiquities.  Memorials  are  hiftories  unfinlfhed, 
or  the  firft  and  rude  draughts  of  hiftory ;  and 
antiquities  are  hiftory  defaced,  or  fome  rem- 
nants of  hiftory  which  have  cafuallyefcaped 
the  fliipwreck  of  time. 

Memorials,  or  preparatory  hiftory,  are 
of  two  forts :  one  of  which  I  think  good 
to  term  commentaries,  the  other  regifters. 
Commentaries  fet  down  a  naked  feries  and 
connexion  of  adions  and  events,  omitting 
I  the 


ON      CIVIL      HISTORY,  145 

the  caufes  and  pretexts  of  things,  their  be- 
ginning alfo  and  the  occaiion,  the  counfels 
likewife  and  fpeeches,  with  other  pailages 
of  a£tion  ;  for  this  is  the  true  nature  of  com- 
mentaries ;  though  Gr/tzr,  in  modelly  mixed 
with  greatnefs,  was  pleafed  to  give  the  name 
of  commentary  to  the  heft  hiilory  in  the 
world.  But  regifters  are  of  a  two- fold  na- 
ture; for  they  comprehend  either  the  titles 
of  matter  and  perfons,  in  a  continuation  of 
time,  fuch  as  we  call  calendars  and  chrono- 
logies ;  or  the  folemnities  of  acls,  as  the 
edids  of  princes,  the  decrees  of  councils, 
judicial  proceedings,  pubhc  orations,  letters 
of  ftate,  &c.  without  a  contexture,  or  con* 
tinued  thread  of  narration. 

Antiquities,  or  remnants  of  hiftory, 
are,  tanquam  tabula  fiaufragii:  *•■  like  the 
*'  fcattered  planks  of  a  fliipwreck."  When 
the  memory  of  things  failing,  and  being  al- 
moft  drowned,  neverthelefs,  induftrious  and 
fagacious  men,  by  an  obftinate  and  fcru- 
pulous  diligence  and  obfervation,  out  of 
genealogies,  calendars,  infcriptions,  monu- 
ments, coins,  proper  names  and  ftiles,  ety- 
paolpgies  of  words,  proverbs,  ti-aditions,  ar- 
chives. 


144         O^'      CIVIL      HISTORY. 

chives  and  records,  as  well  public  as  pri- 
vate, fragments  of  flories,  fcattered  pa£ages 
of  books  not  hiftorical ;  out  of  all  thefe  they 
refcue  fomething  from  the  deluge  of  time. 

Just,  or  perfect  hiilory  is  of  three  kinds, 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  obje;^  which 
it  propofes  to  reprefent ;  for  it  either  repre- 
fents  fome  portion  of  time,  fome  memorable 
perfon,or  fome  more  illuftrious  adion.  The 
iirfl  we  call  chronicles,  or  annals  ;  the  fe- 
cond,  lives ;  the  third,  relations.  Of  thefe; 
chronicles  feem  to  excel  in  glory  and  name; 
lives  in  profit  and  ufe  ;  relations  in  fincerity 
and  truth  :  for  chronicles  exhibit  the  magni- 
tude of  adions,  and  the  face  and  deportments 
of  public  perfons,  and  pafs  over  in  filence 
the  fmaller  paffages  and  motions  of  men  and 
matters.  And  it  being  the  peculiar  work- 
manfhipofGod  to  '*  hang  the  greateft  weight 
*'  upon  the  fmalleft  wires,"  it  comes  fre- 
quently to  pafs,  that  this  fort  of  hiftory, 
purfuing  only  the  greater  occurrences,  rather 
fets  forth  the  pomp  and  folemnities  of  af- 
fairs, than  their  true  fprings,  and  more  fub- 
tle  contextures.  Further,  though  it  add  and 
intermix  the  counfels  themfelves,  yet,  de- 
lighting 


ON     CIVIL     HISTORY.         I4J 

lighting  in  grandeur,  it  inverts  mens  a(^ionS 
with  more  gravity  and  prudence  than  indeed 
is  in  them  :  fo  that  a  fatire  may  be  a  truer 
pi6lure  of  human  life  than  fuchkind  of  hif- 
tories. 

Lives,  on  the  other  hand,  if  they  are 
written  with  dihgence  and  judgment,  for  I 
fpeak  not  of  eulogies,  and  fuch  like  dry  re* 
hearfais,  propounding  to  themlelves  a  fingle 
perfon  for  their  fubjedl:,  in  whom,  afliohs  both 
light  and  weighty,  frnall  and  great,  public 
and  private,  are  neceffarily  compounded  and 
mixed  together,  do  certainly  exhibit  more 
lively  and  faithful  narratives  of  things,  which 
a  man  may  fafeiy  and  happily  transfer  into 
exarnple. 

So  again,  fpecial  relations  of  actions,  as 
the  war  of  Peloponnefus^  the  expedition  of 
Cyrus  ^  the  confpiracy  of  Cat  aline,  and  the 
like,  cannot  but  be  more  purely  and  exactly 
true,  than  the  hiflories  of  times  ;  becaufe  in 
them  may  be  chofen  an  argument  that  is 
manageable  and  limited,  and  of  fuch  a  quality, 
that  exad:  knowledge,  certainty,  and  full  in- 
formation may  be  had  of  it:    whereas  he 

Vol,  IL  L  who 


146         ON     CIVir.     HISTORY. 

who  undertakes  an  hlftory  of  an  extenfive 
period,  mufl:  meet  with  many  blank  fpaces, 
which  he  mufl  be  forced  to  fill  up  out  of  his 
own  genius  and  conjedure ;  yet,  what  we 
have  faid  touching  the  fincerity  of  relations, 
is  to  be  underftood  with  fome  referve ;  for  it 
mufl  be  confelTed,  fnice  all  human  things 
labour  under  imperfections,  and  conveniences 
are  almofl  always  accompanied  with  incon- 
veniences, fuch  kind  of  relations,  efpecially 
if  they  are  publifhed  about  the  times  of  the 
a£lr>  done,  fmce  they  are  many  times  written 
either  with  favour  or  hatred,  of  all  other 
narrations  are  defervedly  mofl  fufpeded. 
But  then  again,  to  this  inconvenience  a  re- 
medy alfo  arifes  :  that  thefe  relations,  as  they 
are  not  fet  out  by  one  fide  only,  but  through 
faction  and  partiality,  are  generally  pub- 
lifhed on  both  fides,  do  by  this  means  open 
and  prepare  away,  as  between  extremes,  to 
truth  ;  and,  after  the  heat  of  paflion  is  over, 
to  a  good  and  wife  hiftorian,  they  become 
none  of  the  worfl  materials  of  a  more  perfed 
hiflory. 

As  for  lives,  when  I  think  on  the  fubjeCt 
I  am  feized  with  a  kind  of  admiration,  that 

thefe 


ON      CIVIL      KISTORY.  I47 

thefe  our  times  fhould  not  know  their  own 
virtue,  fince  there  is  fo  feldom  any  memoriai 
or  record  of  the  lives  of  thofe  who  have  been 
eminent  in  our  times ;  for  although  kings, 
and  fuch  as  have  abfolute  fovereignty,  may 
be  few;  and  princes  in  free  common-wealths, 
fo  many  ftates  being  converted  into  monar- 
chies, are  not  many;  yet,  however,  there 
have  not  been  wanting  excellent  men,  though 
living  under  kings,  that  deferve  better  than 
Jin  uncertain  and  wandering  fame  of  their 
memories,  or  dry  eulogies.  For  to  this  point 
the  invention  of  one  of  the  modern  poets, 
whereby  he  has  enriched  the  ancient  fidlion, 
is  not  inelegant.  He  feigns,  that  at  the  end 
of  the  thread  of  every  man's  life  there  hangs 
a  medal  or  tablet,  whereon  the  name  of 
the  deceafed  is  ftamped ;  that  time  waits 
upon  the  fheers  of  the  fatal  fifter ;  and,  aS 
foon  as  the  thread  is  cut,  immediately  takes 
up  the  medals,  carries  them  away,  and  a 
little  after  throws  them  out  of  his  bofom  into 
the  river  Lethe :  and  that  about  the  river 
there  are  a  world  of  birds  flying  up  and  down 
that  fnatch  the  medals;  who,  after  they 
have  carried  them  about  in  their  beaks 
a  little  while,  through  negligence,  fufFer 
L  2  them 


14^  ON      CIVIL     HISTORY. 

them  to  fall  into  the  river.  Among  thefe 
birds  there  are  a  few  fvvans  found,  which 
if  they  get  a  medal,  are  wont  immediately 
to  carry  it  to  a  certain  temple  confecrated  to 
immortality ;  now  fuch  fwans  have  almoil: 
failed  in  our  age;  and  although  moft  men, 
abundantly  more  mortal  in  their  purfuits  and 
ftudies  than  in  their  bodies,  defpife  the  me- 
mory of  their  name,  as  fmoke  or  air  :  Animl 
nil  magna  laudis  egentes :  "  Degenerate  fouls, 
*'  not  ambitious  of  fame  and  glory :"  fuch 
whofe  philofophy  and  feverity  fprings  from 
that  root:  Non prius  laudes  contempjimus^  quam 
laudanda  facer e  defivlmus :  *'  We  did  not  be- 
*'  gin  to  defpife  praife  till  we  had  left  off  do- 
ling praife- worthy  things  :"  yet  that  with 
us  ihall  not  prejudice  Solomon\  judgment: 
*'  The  memory  of  the  juft  is  blefled,  but  the 
*'  name  of  the  wicked  fhall  rot."  The  one 
perpetually  flourifhes;  the  other  either  in-* 
flantly  paffes  into  oblivion,  or  putrifies  into 
an  ill  odour;  and,  therefore,  in  that  very 
ftyle  or  form  of  fpeech,  which  by  received 
cuftom  and  with  great  reafon  is  attributed 
to  the  deceafed,  "  of  happy  memory  ;*'  "  of 
*'  pious  memory;'*  "  of  bleffed  memory ;" 
we  feem  to  acknowledge  that  which  Cicero^ 

borrow- 


ON    ECCLESIASTICAL    HISTORY 


149 


borrowing  it  o^DemoJlhenes^  alledged  :  "That 
*'  good  fame  is  the  proper  pofle^Iion  of  the 
*'  dead  :"  which  poffeffion  I  caanot  but  ob- 
ferve  in  our  age  lies  generally  wafle  and 
neglected. 


ON    ECCLESIASTICAL   HISTORY. 


rpCCLESTASTICAL  hiftory  in  general 
falls  under  the  fame  divifion  in  a  man- 
ner with  civil  hiflory;  for  there  are  ecclefi- 
aftical  chronicles,  lives  of  fathers,  relations 
of  fynods,  and  of  the  like  things  belonging 
to  the  church.  But  in  propriety  of  fpeech 
it  is  rightly  divided  into  the  hiflory  of  the 
church,  keeping  the  general  name;  the  hif- 
tory  of  prophecy  ;  and  thehiHory  of  Provi- 
dence. The  firfl  delcribes  the  times,  ?.nd 
different  ftates  of  the  church  miHtant;  whe- 
ther ihe  be  fluduant,  as  the  ark  in  the 
deluge;  or  moveable  as  the  ark  in  the  wil- 
dernefs;  or  at  reft  as  the  ark  in  the  temple  : 
L3  that 


150         ON    ECCLESIASTICAL    HISTORY. 

that  is,  the  flate  of  the  church  ui  perfecu- 
tion,  in  remove,  and  in  peace.  In  this  part 
I  find  no  deficiency ;  there  is  rather  fuper- 
fluity  here  than  want :  only  this  I  could 
wifh,  that  the  virtue  and  fincerity  of  the 
narrations  anfwered  to  the  mafs  and  quan- 
tity. 

The  fecond  part,  which  is  the  hiflory  of 
prophecy,  confifls  of  two  relatives,  the  pro- 
phecy, and  the  accomplifhment ;  and,  there- 
fore, the  nature  of  fuch  a  work  fhould  be, 
that  every  pi-ophecy  of  fcripture  be  forted 
with  the  event  fulfilling  it,  and  this  through- 
out all  the  ages  of  the  world,  both  for  the 
better  confirmation  of  faith,  and  for  the 
cflablifliing  a  kind  of  art  and  fklU  in  the  in- 
terpretation of  thofe  prophecies  which  are  yet 
unfulfilled  :  allowing,  neverthelefs,  that  la- 
titude which  is  proper  and  familiar  unto 
divine  prophecies,  that  their  accomplifh- 
ments  may  be  both  perpetual  and  pundual ; 
for  they  are  of  the  nature  of  their  author, 
"  with  whom  one  day  is  as  a  thoufand  years, 
*^  and  a  thoufand  years  but  as  one  day :"  and 
though  the  fulnefs  and  height  of  their  com- 
pletiou  may  be  afligned  to  fpme  one  age,   or 

evea 


i 


ON    ECCLESIASTICAL    HISTORY.       I5I 

even  moment,  yet  they  have  in  the  mean 
time  many  degrees  and  feals  of  accomplifh- 
ment,  throughout  many  ages  of  the  world. 
This  work  I  fet  down  as  deficient;  but  it  is 
of  that  nature  as  muft  be  handled  with  great 
wiidom,  fobriety,  and  reverence,  or  not 
at  all. 

The  third  part,  which  is  the  hiftory  of 
Providence,  has  fallen  indeed  under  the  pens 
of  many  pious  men,  but  not  without  the 
difference  of  parties.  It  is  employed  ui  ob- 
ferving  that  divine  correfpondence  which  is 
between  God's  revealed  and  fecret  will ;  for 
although  the  counfels  and  judgments  of  God 
are  fo  obfcure  that  they  are,  for  the  mofl 
part,  infcrutable  to  the  natural  man  ;  nay, 
many  times  withdraw  themfelves  from  their 
eyes  that  look  out  of  the  tabernacle;  yet,  at 
fome  times  it  pleafes  the  divine  wifdom,  for 
the  confirmation  of  his  own,  and  the  confu- 
tation of  thofe  who  are  "  as  without  God  in 
*'  the  world,"  to  write  them  in  capital  let- 
ters, and  offer  them  to  fight  fo  vifibly,  that, 
as  the  Prophet  faith,  "  he  that  runs  may 
♦^  read  them  :'*  which  is,  that  mere  fenfual 
L  4  and 


l^Z         ON    ECCLESIASTICAL    HISTORY. 

and  carnal  men,  who  haften  by  God's  judg-r 
ments,  and  never  fix  down  their  thoughts 
upon  them ;  yet,  though  they  are  upon  the 
fpeed,  anduitend  nothing  lefs,  are  urged  to 
acknowledge  them.  Such  are  late  and  un- 
locked for  vengeances  ;  fudden  and  unex- 
pected deliverances;  the  divine counfel  paff- 
ing  through  crooked  mazes  and  ftnpendous 
windings,  and  at  length  manifeftly  difen- 
tangling  and  clearing  themfelves:  which 
ferve  not  only  for  the  confolation  of  the 
minds  of  the  faithful,  but  for  the  aftonifh- 
ment  and  conviclion  of  the  confciences  of  the 
wicked* 


ON 


ON  THE  APPENDAGES  OF  HISTORY.      I53 


ON  THE  APPENDAGES  of  HISTORY. 


npHERE  ought  to  be  records  kept,  not 
only  of  the  deeds  of  mankind,  but  of 
their  words  alfo ;  yet  it  is  true,  that  fome-^ 
times  words  are  inferted  in  the  hiftory  itfelf 
fo  far  as  they  conduce  to  a  perfpicuous  and 
grave  delivery  of  deeds.  But  books  of  ora- 
tions, epiftles,  and  apothegms,  are  appro- 
priated to  the  cuftodyof  the  fayings  of  men; 
and,  certainly,  the  orations  of  wife  men 
touching  bufinefs,  and  matters  of  grave  and 
high  importance,  conduce  much  both  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  things  themfelves,  and  to 
eloquence. 

But  yet  greater  helps  for  the  furnifhing 
civil  prudence  are  from  the  letters  of  great 
perfonages,  touching  affairs  of  ftate ;  for  of 
all  the  words  of  men,  there  is  nothing,  in 
my  judgment,  more  found  and  excellent 
than  thefe  letters;  for  they  are  more  na- 
tural than  orations,    and  more  advifed  than 

extern" 


154     ON  THE  APPENDAGES  OF  HISTORY. 

extempore  conference.  The  fame,  when 
they  are  continued  according  to  the  feries  of 
tim^e,  as  in  thofe  from  ambaffadors,  gover- 
nors of  provinces,  and  other  minifters  of 
ftate,  to  kings  or  fenates,  or  from  them  to 
their  minifters,  are  without  queftion,  of  all 
others,  the  beft  proviiion  for  hiftory  ;  and, 
to  a  diligent  reader,  the  befl  hiftories  them^ 
felves. 

Neither  are  even  apothegms  only  far 
delight  and  ornament,  but  for  bulinels,  alfo, 
and  civil  ufe.  For  they  are,  according  to 
Cicero,  Secures,  or  Mucrones  verborum ; 
which,  by  their  fharp  edge,  cut  and  pene- 
trate the  knots  of  affairs  and  bufinefs ;  and 
for  occafions  they  run  round  in  a  ring ;  and 
what  was  formerly  proper  may  be  applicable 
and  of  ufe  again,  whether  a  man  produce 
them  as  his  own,  or  as  ancient.  It  is  a  great 
pity  Cue  far  s  book  of  apothegms  is  lofl  ;  for 
as  his  hiftory,  and  thofe  few  letters  of  his 
which  we  have,  and  thofe  apothegms  which 
were  his  own,  excel  all  others ;  fo  I 
fuppofe  would  his  collection  of  apothegms 
have  done.    As  for  thofe  which  are  coUeCled 

hy 


ON      POETRY,  155 

by  other  writers,  either  I  have  no  tafte  in 
fuch  matters,  or  elfe  their  choice  has  not 
been  happy. 

And  fo  much  for  hiflory,  or  that  part  of 
learning  which  anfwers  to  one  of  the  cells  or 
domicils  of  the  underftanding,  which  may 
be  properly  called  memory. 


ON  POETRY. 

pOETRY  is  a  part  of  learning,  in  meafure 
of  words  for  the  moft  part  reftrained  ; 
in  matter,  loofe  and  licenfed ;  and  truly 
refers  to  the  imagination,  which,  not  bring 
tied  to  the  laws  of  matter,  may  at  plea  lure 
join  what  nature  hath  fevered,  fever  uhac 
which  nature  has  joined,  and  fo  make  un= 
lawful  matches  and  divorces  of  things :  Pic- 
toribus  atque  poetis^  &c.  It  is  taken  in  two 
fenfes,  both  in  refped  of  words,  or  matter. 
In  the  firft  fenfe  it  is  but  a  charader  of  ftyle, 
and  belongs  to  the  arts  of  fpeech :  in  the 
latter  it  is  a  principal  portion  of  learning, 
^nd  is  nothing  elfe  but  feigned  hiflory. 

The 


15^  ON      POETRY* 

The  trueft  and  mofl  proper  partition  of 
poetry  is  narrarive,  repreicntative,  and  al- 
lufive.  The  narrative  is  a  mere  imiiiation  of 
hiftory,  with  the  excefies  before  mentioned ; 
chufmg  for  fubje6l  commonly  war  and  love, 
rarely  flate,  andfometimes  pleafure  or  mirth. 
Reprefentative  is,  as  it  were,  a  vifible  hif- 
tory  ;  for  it  gives  an  image  of  actions  as  if 
they  were  prefent,  as  hiftory  does  of  actions 
in  nature  as  they  are,  which  are  pafl.  Allu- 
five,  parabolical,  or  typical  hiftory,  which 
brings  down  the  intelledluals  to  fenfe. 

As  for  narrative  Poetry,  or  if  you  pleafe  to 
call  it  heroical,  fo  you  underftand  it  of  the 
matter,  not  of  the  verfc,  feems  to  be  raifed 
from  a  noble  foundation,  which  makes 
much  for  the  dignity  of  man's  nature*.  For 
the  fenfible  world  being  inferior  in  dignity 
to  the  rational  foul,  this  poetry  feems  to 
give  to  human  nature,  what  hiftory  denies 
it;  and  to  fatisfy  the  mind  with  the  ftiadows 
at  leaft  of  things,  where  the  fubftance  can- 
not be  had.  For  if  the  m.atter  be  thoroughly 
conddered,  a  ftrong  argument  maybe  drawn 
from  poetry,  that  a  more  illuftrious  magni- 
tude of  things,  a  more  perfedl  goodnefs,  and 

a  more 


ON        POETRY.  157^ 

a  more  beautiful  variety  pleafes  the  foul  of 
man,  than  what  it  can  any  way  find  in  mere, 
nature  fmce  the  Fall :  wherefore  feeing  the 
a6ls  and  events  which  are  the  fubjeds  af 
true  hiftory,  are  not  of  that  magnitude  to 
content  the  foul  of  man,  poetry  is  ready  at 
hand  to  feign  a(^s  greater  and  more  heroicah. 
Seeing  true  hiftory  relates  the  fuccelTes  of 
adlions,  in  no  wife  proportionable  to  the  merit 
of  vu'tue  and  vice,  poetry  corre£ls  it,  and 
exhibits  ilTues  and  fortunes  more  agreeable 
to  defert,  and  more  according  to  the  law  of 
Providence.  Seeing  true  hiftory,  by  repre- 
fenting  actions  and  events  more  ordinary  and 
lefs  diverfified,  fatiates  the  mind  of  man, 
poetry  cheers  and  refreflies  it  ;  chanting 
things  rare  and  unexpected,  and  full  of  al- 
ternate variations.  So  that  Poetry  ferves 
and  contributes  not  only  to  dehght,  but 
alfo  to  magnanimity  and  morality:  where- 
fore it  may  very  reafonabiy  feem  to  partake 
of  a  kind  of  divinity,  becaufe  it  ere£ls  and 
exalts  the  fpirit  with  high  raptures,  by  pro- 
portioning the  images  of  things  to  the  defires 
of  the  mind,  not  by  confining  and  bending 
the  mind  to  the  nature  of  things,  as  reafon 
and  .hillory  do.     And  by  thefe  allurements 

and 


fjS  ON       POETRY. 

and  congrukles  wkereby  it  foothes  the  foul 
of  man,  joined  alfo  with  concerts  of  muficj 
whereby  it  may  more  fweetly  infinuate  itfelf ; 
it  hath  made  a  way  to  efteem,  even  in  very 
rude  times,  and  with  barbarous  nations, 
where  other  learning  has  ftood  wholly  ex- 
cluded. 

Dramatic  Poetry,  whofe  theatre  is  the 
world,  is  of  excellent  ufe,  if  it  were  not 
abufed.  For  both  the  inftrudion  and  cor- 
ruption of  the  theatre  may  be  great ;  but  the 
corruptions  in  this  kind  abound :  the  difci- 
pline  is  altogether  negle£led  in  our  times, 
although  in  modern  common- wealths  the 
adlion  of  the  theatre  be  efleemed  but  as  a 
matter  wholly  ludicrous,  unlefs  it  draws  too 
much  from  fatire;  yet,  the  care  of  the  an- 
cients was,  that  it  fhould  inftrudl  the  minds 
of  men  to  virtue.  Nay,  wife  men  and  great 
philofophers,  have  looked  upon  it  as  a  kind 
of  mufical  quill  of  the  mind ;  and  certainly 
it  is  proved  from  fome  fecret  fympathy  of 
nature,  that  the  minds  of  men  are  more  open 
to  afFe£lions  and  impreffions,  congregate, 
than  fohtary. 

Bur 


1 


ON      POETRY.  159 

But  parabolical  Poetry  excels  the  reft, 
raid  leems  to  be  a  facred  and  venerable  thing ; 
efpeciallj  as  religion  itfelf  makes  ufe  of  its 
lervice,  and  by  its  miniflry  holds  a  divine 
commerce  with  men.  Yet  even  this  alfo  is 
found  to  have  been  adulterated  by  the  levity 
and  indulgence  of  mens  minds  about  alle- 
gories ;  and  it  is  of  ambiguous  ufe,  and  ap- 
plied to  contrary  ends ;  for  it  ferves  to  ob- 
fcure,  and  it  ferves  alfo  to  illuftrate  :  in  this, 
there  feems  to  be  fought  a  way  to  teach :  in 
that,  an  art  to  conceal.  And  this  way  of 
teaching  which  tends  to  illuflration,  was 
very  much  in  ufe  in  ancient  times;  for 
the  inventions  and  conclufions  of  human 
reafon,  even  thofe  which  are  now  trite  and 
common,  were  then  flrange  and  unufual,  and 
the  underftandings  of  men  were  not  capable 
of  fuch  fubtilty,  unlefs  thofe  points  were, 
by  fuch  refemblanoes  and  examples,  brought 
down  nearer  to  fenfe.  Wherefore  all  things 
in  thofe  ages  were  full  of  fables,  parables, 
asnigmas,  and  fimilitudes.  Hence  were  the 
fy mbols  of  Pythagoras^  the  senigmas  of 
Sphinx,  the  fables  oiMfcp,  and  the  like.  Fur- 
ther, the  apothegms  of  the  ancient  fages 
exprefled  a  thing  generally  by  fimilitudes. 

Hence 


l6o-  O   N      P   O   E    T    R    Y. 

Hence  Menenius  Agr'ippa  amongfl:  the  Romans i^ 
(a  nation  in  that  age  by  no  means  learned,) 
repreiTed  a  fedition  by  a  fable.  And  as  hiero- 
glyphics were  before  letters,  fo  parables  were 
before  arguments  :  and  even  now  there  isj 
as  in  times  paft,  much  life  and  vigour  in 
parable;  becaufe  arguments  cannot  be  fo 
clear,  nor  even  examples  fo  well  applied. 

But  there  remains  yet  another  ufe  of 
parabolical  Poetry,  oppofite  in  a  manner  to 
the  former;  tcndhig  as  we  faid,  to  obfcure 
fuch  thingS)  namely,  the  dignity  whereof 
deferves  to  be  retired,  and  feparated^  as  it 
were,  by  a  curtain  :  that  is,  when  the  fecrets 
and  myfteries  of  religion,  policy,  and  philo° 
fophyj  are  involved  in  fables  and  parables. 

But  whether  there  be  any  myftical  fenfe 
couched  under  the  ancient  fables  of  the  poets^ 
may  admit  fome  doubt:  and  indeed  1  con- 
fel^,  for  my  part,  that  I  incline  to  this  opi- 
nion, that  many  of  the  fables  of  the  ancient 
poets  had  a  myflery  infufed  into  them;  Nor 
is  it  any  argument  with  me,  to  pafs  judg- 
ment upon  them  contemptuouily,  becaufe 
they  are  left  commonly  to  fchool-boys  and 
I  gram-^ 


b  .  N     Poetry.  161 

gfammnrians,  and  are  therefore  little  noted ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  fnice  it  is  mantfeflly 
clear,  that  the  writings  which  recite  thefe 
fables,  of  ail  the  writings  of  men,  next  to 
facred  writ,  are  the  moft  ancient*  and  that 
the  fables  themfelves  are  far  more  ancient 
than  they  ;  being  recited  by  thofe  w^riters, 
as. credited  and  received  before,  not  as  in- 
Vented  by  them,  they  feem  to  be  like  a  fine 
rarified  air,  which,  from  the  traditions  of 
more  ancient  nations,  fell  into  the  flutes  of 
the  G?'ecia?is:  becaufe  whatfoever  has  been 
hitherto  attempted  for  the  interpretation 
of  thefe  parables,  by  unfkilful  men,  gives  us 
no  fatisfaction. 

SuHELY  of  thofe  poets  which  are  now  ex-* 
tant,  even  Homer  himfelf,  notwithftandihg 
he  was  made  a  kind  of  fcripture  by  the  lat- 
ter fchools  of  the  Grecians^  yet  I  fliould  with- 
out any  difficulty  pronounce,  that  his  fables 
had  no  fuch  inwardnefs  in  his  own  mean- 
ing ;  but  what  they  might  have  upon  a  more 
original  tradition,  is  not  eafy  to  affirm,  for 
he  was  not  the  inventor  of  many  of  them. 

'     Vol.  IL  M  In 


^6Z  ON      ?    O   E    T    R    Y. 

In  this  third  part  of  learning,  which  is 
poefy,  I  can  report  no  deficiency.  For  being 
as  a  plant  that  comes  of  the  luft  of  the 
earth,  without  a  formal  feed,  it  has  fprung 
up,  and  fpread  abroad  more  than  any  other 
kind :  but  to  afcribe  unto  it  that  which  is 
due,  for  the  expreffion  of  affe6lioiis,  paflions, 
corruptions,  and  cuftoms,  we  are  beholden 
to  poets  more  than  to  the  philofophers  works ; 
and  for  wit  and  eloquence,  not  much  lefs 
than  to  orators  harangues.  But  it  is  not 
good  to  flay  too  long  in  the  theatre.  Let 
us  now  pafs  to  the  judicial  place  or  palace 
of  the  mind,  which  we  are  to  approach  and 
view  with  more  reverence  and  attention. 


ON 


ON    THE    TRIUMPHS    OF    MAN.         l6^ 


ON    THE   TRIUMPHS    OF  MAN. 


'T^HE  knowledge  concerning  the  nature  o£ 
man  comprehends  two  things  efpeci- 
ally;  namely,  the  contemplation  of  the  mi- 
fei-'ies  of  mankind,  and  of  his  prerogatives 
or  excellencies.  But  the  bewailing  of  man's 
miferies  hath  been  elegantly  and  copioufly 
fet  forth  by  feveral  in  the  writings,  of 
philofophers,  as  well  as  divines;  and  it  is 
both  a  pleafant  and  a  wholefome  contem- 
plation. 

But  that  touching  man's  prerogatives  has 
feemed  to  me  a  point  that  may  well  be  fet 
down  among  the  deficiencies  of  learning. 
Pindar,  in  extolling  Hiero,  fays  moft  ele- 
gantly, "  That  he  cropt  oft  the  tops  or 
"  fummits  of  all  virtues."  And  truly,  I 
ihould  think  it  would  much  conduce  to  the 
magnanimity  and  honour  of  man,  if  a  col- 
ledtion  were  made  of  the  ultimates  in  the 
M  2  fcho- 


J  64        ON    THE  TRIUMPHS   OT    MAN. 

fcholaflic,  or  fummits  in  the  pindaric  phrafe, 
of  human  nature,  principally  out  of  the  faith- 
ful reports  of  hiflory  ;  that  is,  "  What  is 
*'  the  laft  and  higheft  pitch  to  which  hu- 
**  man  nature  in  itfelf  ever  afcended,  in  all 
*'  the  perfedlions  both  of  body  and  mind  ?" 
What  a  ftrange  ability  was  that  which  is  re- 
ported of  Cafar,  "  That  he  could  dicflate  at 
*'  once  to  five  amanuenfes !"  So  alfo  the 
exercitations  of  the  ancient  rhetoricians, 
Protagoras,  GorgJas;  likewife  of  philofo- 
phers,  CalUJihenes,  PoJJidonius,  Carneades ; 
who  were  able  to  difcourfe  extempore  upon 
any  fubje6l,  pro  or  con,  with  fluency  and 
elegance,  do  much  ennoble  the  power  of  mans 
wit,  and  natural  endowments.  And  that 
which  Cicero  reports  of  his  mafter  Archias  is 
little  for  ufe,  but  admirable  for  ftrength  of 
faculty :  "  That  he  was  able  to  recite  extern- 
^^  pore  a  great  number  of  verfes,  pertinent 
*«  to  the  difcourfe  in  hand  whatever  it  was." 
That  Cyrus  ov  Sclpio  could  call  fo  many  thou- 
fands  of  men  by  their  particular  names,  is  a 
lingular  commendation  to  that  faculty  of  the 
mind,  memory. 

But 


ON    THE    TRIUMPHS   OF    MAN.         165 

But  the  trophies  of  moral  vhtues  are  no 
lefs  famous  than  thofe  of  intelkaual.  What 
a  mighty  example  of  patience  does  that  com- 
mon ftory  of  Anaxarchus  prefent  unto  our 
thoughts,  who,  being  put  to  the  rack  and 
torture,  bit  out  his  own  tongue,  the  hoped 
inftrument  of  difcovery,  and  fpit  it  in  the 
tyrant's  face  !  Nor  is  that  inferior  for  to- 
lerance, though  much  in  the  dignity  of  the 
caufe,  of  a  certain  Burgundian^  who  had  com- 
mitted a  murder  upon  the  Prince  o^ Orange: 
this  fellow  being  fcourged  with  iron  rods, 
and  his  flefti  torn  with  burning  pincers,  gave 
not  fo  much  as  a  groan ;  and,  when  a  broken 
piece  of  the  fcaftold  fell  by  chance  upon  the 
head  of  one  that  ftood  by,  the  fniged  flig- 
matized  wretch,  in  the  midft  of  his  tor- 
tures, laughed  ;  who,  but  a  little  before, 
had  wept  at  the  cutting  oft  his  curled  head 
of  hair. 

In  like  manner  a  wonderful  ferenlty  and 
fecurity  of  mind  has  fhonein  many  at  the 
very  inftant  of  death,  as  was  that  of  a  cen- 
turion in  Tacitus:  he,  being  ordered  by  the 
foldier  that  had  commands  to  execute  him, 
M  3  to 


t66        ON    THE    TRIUMPHS  OF    MAN". 

to  flretch  forth  his  neck  valiantly:  **  I 
*'  wlfh,"  fays  he,  "  thou  wouldft  flrike  as 
*'  valiantly."  But  Jom  Duke  of  Saxony, 
when  the  commiffion  vv^as  brought  him,  as 
he  was  playing  at  chefs,  wherein  his  death 
was  commanded  the  next  day,  called  to 
one  that  flood  by  him,  and  fmiling,  "Look,'* 
fays  he,  *'  if  I  have  not  the  better  hand 
*'  of  the  game.  For  he  (pointing  to  him 
**  with  whom  he  played)  will  boafl  when  I 
*'  am  dead,  that  himfelf  was  the  better  of 
«  the  fet," 

Chancellor  More,  of  England,  when 
a  barber  came  to  him  the  day  before  he  was 
to  die,  fent,  it  feems,  for  this  end,  left 
the  fight  of  his  long  hair  might  more  than 
ordinary  move  compafllon  in  the  people  at 
his  execution,  and  alked,  if  he  would  not 
pleafe  to  have  his  hair  cut  ?  He  refufed,  and 
turning  to  the  barber,  *'  The  King,"  fays 
he,  "  is  at  fuit  with  me  for  my  head;  and 
*'  till  that  controverfy  be  ended,  I  mean  to 
*'  beftow  no  cofl  upon  it.'*  And  the  fame 
perfon,  at  the  very  point  of  death,  after  he 
had  laid  his  head  upon   the  fatal    block, 

railed 


ON    THE    TRIUMPHS  OF   MAN.         167 

Mifed  himfelf  up  again  a  little,  and  having 
a  fair  large  beard,  gently  removed  it,  fay- 
ing, "  Yet,  I  hope,  this  hath  not  offended 
"  thy  King."  But  not  to  dwell  too  long 
upon  this  point,  it  is  plain  enough  what  we 
mean:  namely,  that  the  wonders  of  human 
nature,  and  its  ultimate  powers  and  virtues, 
as  well  of  mind  as  body,  Ihould  be  colle6led 
into,  a  volume ;  which  might  ferve  as  a  Ka- 
lendar  of  human  triumphs.  For  this  purpofe 
we  approve  the  defign  of  Falerius  Maximus, 
and  C.  Plinius  ;  but  w^ifh  they  had  ufed  more 
diligence  and  judgment. 


M4  On 


j68  ON     PHILOSOPHY, 


On    P  I  V  I  N  E,      NATURAL^ 


AND 


HUMAN     PHILOSOPHY. 


'T^HE  iinowledge  of  man  is  as  the  watera* 
feme  defcen ding  from  above,  and  fome 
fprlnging  from  beneath ;  the  one  informe4 
by  the  light  of  nature,  the  other  infpired  by- 
divine  revelation. 

The  light  of  nature  confifls  in  the  notions 
of  the  mind,  and  the  reports  of  the  fenfes  ; 
as  for  knowledge  which  man  receiveth 
by  teaching,  it  is  accumulated  and  not  ori- 
ginal, as  in  a  water,  that,  bcfides  its  own 
fpring-head,  is  fed  with  other  fprings  and 
flreams.  So  then,  according  to  thefe  two 
different  illuminations  or  originals,  know- 
ledge is  firft  of  all  divided  into  divinity  and 
philofophy, 

I  In 


ON      PHILOSOPHY.  169 

In  philofophy,  the  contemplations  of  rtian 
do  neither  penetrate  unto  God,  nor  are  cir- 
cumferred  to  nature,  nor  reflefted  or  re- 
verted upon  hhnfelf.  Out  of  which  feveral 
inquiries  there  arife  three  fubjeds,  di- 
vine philofophy,  natural  philofophv,  and 
human  philofophy,  or  humanity.  For  all 
things  are  marked  and  ftamped  with  this 
triple  charader,  of  the  power  of  God,  the 
difference  of  nature,  and  the  ufe  of  man. 
But  becaufe  the  diftributions  and  partitions 
of  knowledge  are  not  like  feveral  lines  that 
meet  in  one  angle,  and  fo  touch  but  in  a 
point;  but  are  like  branches  of  a  tree,  that 
meet  in  a  ftem,  which  has  a  dimenfion  and 
quantity  of  intirenefs  and  continuance  before 
it  comes  to  difcontinue  and  break  itfelf  into 
arms  and  boughs;  therefore  it  is  good,  be- 
fore we  enter  into  the  former  diftribution, 
toeredl  and  conftitute  one  univerfal  fcience, 
by  the  name  oiPhllofofhia  prirna^  "  primitive 
^'  or  fummary  philofophy,"  as  the  main 
and  common  way,  before  we  come  where 
the  ways  part  and  divide  themfelves;  which 
fcience,  whether  I  fhould  report  as  deficient 
pr  not,  I  ftaud  doubtful. 

For 


I^O  ON      PHILOSOPHY. 

For  I  find  a  certain  rhapfody  of  natural 
theology,  and  of  divers  parts  of  logic ;  of 
that  part  of  natural  philofophy  which 
concerns  the  principles ;  and  of  the 
other  part  of  natural  philofophy  which 
concernes  the  foul  or  fpirit:  all  thefe 
ftrangely  commixed  and  confufed :  but  being 
examined,  it  feems  to  me  rather  a  depre- 
dation of  other  fciences,  advanced  and  ex- 
alted unto  fome  height  of  terms,  than  any 
thing  folidor  fubftantial  of  itfelf. 

Nevertheless,  I  cannot  be  ignorant  of 
the  diftindlion  which  is  current,  that  the 
fame  things  are  handled  but  in  feveral  re- 
fpe£ls.  As  for  example,  that  logic  confi- 
ders  of  many  things  as  they  are  in  notion ; 
and  this  philofophy,  as  they  are  in  nature; 
the  one  in  appearance,  the  other  in  exiilence : 
but  I  find  this  difference  better  made  than 
purfued.  For  if  they  had  confidered  quan- 
tity, fimilitude,  diverfity,  and  the  reft  of 
thofe  external  chara6lers  of  things,  as  philo- 
fophers,  and  in  nature  ;  their  enquiries  mull 
of  courfe  have  been  of  a  very  different  kind 
than  they  are. 

For 


-  J 

1 


ON    DIVINE    PHILOSOPHY.  I7I 

For  does  any  of  them,  in  handling  quan- 
tity, fpeak  of  the  force  of  union,  how,  and 
how  fiir  it  multiplies  virtue  ?  Does  any 
give  the  reafon,  why  fome  things  in  nature 
are  lo  common,  and  in  fo  great  mafs,  and 
others  fo  rare,  and  in  lb  frn all  quantity  ? 
Does  any,  in  handling  fimilitude  and  diver- 
fity,  aflign  the  caufe  why  iron  fliould  not 
move  to  iron,  which  is  more  like,  hut  move 
to  the  load-flone,  which  is  lefs  fo  ?  Why, 
in  all  diverfities  of  things,  there  Ihouid  be 
certain  participles  in  nature,  which  are  al- 
mofl  ambiguous,  to  which  kind  they  (hould 
be  referred?  But  there  is  a  mere  and  deep 
filence  touching  the  nature  and  operation  of 
thefe  common  adjuncls  of  things,  as  in  na- 
ture; and  only  a  refuming  and  repeating  of 
the  force  and  ufe  of  them  in  fpeecb  or  ar- 
gument. 


DIVINE    PHILOSOPHY. 

Divine  philofophy,  or  natural  theology, 
is  that  knowledge  or  rudiment  of  knowledge 
concerning  God,  which  may  be  obtained  by 

the 


172  ON    DIVINE    PHILOSOPHY. 

the  contemplation  of  his  creatures;  which 
knowledge  may  be  truly  termed  divine,  in 
refped  of  the  object ;  and  natural,  in  refpect 
of  the  light. 

The  bounds  of  this  knowledge  are,  that 
it  fuffices  to  convince  atheifm,  but_.not  to 
inform  rehgion:  and  therefore  there  was 
never  miracle  wrought  by  God  to  convert 
an  a'theift,  becaufe  the  light  of  nature  might 
have  led  him  to  confefs  a  God  :  but  miracles 
have  been  wrought  to  convert  idolaters  and 
the  fuperflitious,  becaufe  no  light  of  nature 
extends  to  declare  the  will  and  true  worihip 
of  God, 

For  as  all  works  do  fhew  forth  the  power 
and  Ikill  of  the  workman,  and  not  his  image, 
fo  it  is  of  the  works  of  God,  Vv^hich  fliew 
the  omnipotence  and  wifdom  of  the  maker, 
but  not  his  image  :  and  therefore  therein  the 
heathen  opinion  differs  from  thefacred  truth ; 
for  they  fuppofed  the  world  to  be  the  image 
of  God,  and  man  to  be  an  extract  or  com- 
pendious image  of  the  world  :  but  the  fcrip- 
tures  never  vouchfafe  to  attribute  to  the 
w^orld  that  honour,  as  to  be  the  image  of 

God, 


ON    DIVINE   PHILOSOPHY.  I  75 

God,  but  only  the  work  of  his  hands  :  nei- 
ther do  they  fpeak  of  any  other  image  of 
God,  but  man:  wherefore  by  the  contem- 
plation of  nature,  to  induce  and  enforce  the 
acknowledgment  of  God,  and  to  demonftrate 
his  power,  providence,  and  goodnefs,  is  an 
excellent  argument,  and  has  been  well 
handled  by  many. 

But,  on  the  other  fide,  out  of  the  con- 
templation of  nature,  or  ground  of  human 
knowledge,  to  induce  any  verity  or  perfuafion 
concerning  the  points  of  faith,  is  in  my 
judgment  not  fafe  :  Da  fide i^  quae  fidei  fiint. 
For  the  heathens  themfelves  conclude  as 
much,  in  that  excellent  and  divine  fable  of 
the  golden  chain  :  "  That  men  and  gods 
*'  were  not  able  to  draw  Jupiter  down  to  the 
•'  earth;  but,  on  the  contrary,  Jupiter \Y2i^ 
*'  able  to  draw  them  up  to  heaven." 

So  as  we  ought  not  to  attempt  to  draw 
down  or  fubmit  the  myfteries  of  God  to  our 
reafon ;  but  on  the  contrary,  to  raife  and 
advance  our  reafon  to  the  divine  truth  :  fo 
as  in  this  part  of  knowledge,  touching  divine 
philofophy,    I   am   fo  far  from  noting  any 

dcf{- 


174  O^    DIVINE   PHILOSOPHY* 

deficiency,  that  I  rather  note  an  exceisj 
whereunto  I  have  digrefled,  becaiife  of  the  ex- 
treme prejudice  which  both  religion  and  phi- 
lofophy  have  received,  and  may  receive,  by 
being  commixed  together;  as  that  which 
\indoubtedly  will  make  an  heretical  religion, 
and  an  imaginary  and  fabulous  philofophy. 

Otherwise  it  is  of  the  nature  of  angels 
and  fpirits,  which  is  an  appendix  of  theo- 
logy, both  divine  and  natural;  and  is  nei- 
ther infcru table  nor  interdicled :  for  although 
the  fcripture  faith,  "  Let  no  man  deceive 
"  you  in  fublime  difcourfe  touching  the 
*'  worfliip  of  angels,  preffing  into  that  he 
*'  knoweth  not,  &c.'*  yet,  notwithftanding 
if  you  obferve  well  that  precept,  it  may  ap- 
pear thereby,  that  there  are  two  things 
only  forbidden,  adoration,  and  a  fantaf- 
tical  opinion  of  them,  either  to  extol  them 
farther  than  appertains  to  the  degree  of  a 
creature,  or  to  extol  a  man's  knowledge  of 
them  farther  than  he  hath  ground.  But 
the  fober  and  grounded  enquiry,  which  may 
arife  out  of  the  paffages  of  holy  fcrlptures, 
or  out  of  the  gradations  of  nature,  is  not 
refiraiiied.     So  of  degenerate  and   revolted 

fpirits, 


ON    NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY.  I75 

fpirlts,  the  converfing  with  them,  or  the 
employment  of  them  is  prohibited,  much 
more  any  veneration  towards  them.  But  the 
contemplation  or  fcience  of  their  nature, 
their  power,  their  illufions,  either  by  fcrip- 
tureor  reafon,  is  a  part  of  fpiritual  wifdom  : 
for  fo  the  Apoftle  faith;  "  We  are  not  ig- 
*'  norant  of  his  ftratagems."  And  it  is  no 
more  unlawful  to  enquire  the  nature  of  evil 
fpirits,  than  to  enquire  the  force  of  poifons 
in  nature,  or  the  nature  of  fin  and  vice  in 
morality.  But  this  part,  touching  angels 
and  fpirits,  I  cannot  note  as  deficient,  for 
many  have  occupied  themfelves  in  it  :  I  may 
rather  challenge  it,  in  many  of  the  writers 
thereof,  as  fabulous  and  fantaflical. 

Leaving  therefore  divine  philofophy,  or 
natural  theology,  not  divinity,  or  infpired 
theology,  which  we  referve  for  the  laftofall, 
as  the  haven  and  flibbath  of  all  man's  con- 
templations, we  will  now  proceed  to 


NATURAL     PHILOSOPHY. 

If  it  be  true  what  Bemocntus  faid,  *'  That 
"  the  truth  of  nature  Jieth  hid  in  certain 

*'  (Jeep 


iy6  ON    NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY. 

*'  deep  mines  and  caves:"  and  if  it  be  true 
likewife  that  the  alchymifls  do  fo  much  in- 
culcate ;  *'  That  Fulcan  is  a  fecond  nature, 
*'  and  imitates  that  dexteroufly  and  com- 
*'  pendioully,  which  nature  works  bygrada- 
"  tion  and  length  of  time;"  it  were  good 
to  divide  natural  philofophy  into  the  mine 
and  the  furnace,  and  to  make  two  profef^ 
iions  or  occupations  of  natural  philofophers, 
fome  to  be  pioneers j  and  fome  fmiths ;  fome 
to  dig,  and  fome  to  refine  and  hammer:  and 
furely  I  do  beft  allow  of  a  divifion  of  that 
kind,  though  in  more  familiar  and  fcholaflic 
terms ;  namely,  that  thefe  be  the  two  parts 
of  natural  philofophy,  the  inquifition  of 
caufes,  and  the  produdlion  of  effefts  fpecu- 
lative  and  operative  ;  natural  fcience,  and 
natural  prudence. 

For  as  in  civil  matters  there  is  a  wifdom 
of  difcourfe,  and  a  wifdom  of  dire6lion  ;  fo 
is  it  in  natural.  .  And  here  1  will  make  a  re- 
quefl,  that  for  the  latter,  or  at  leafl  for  ^ 
part  thereof,  Imay  revive  and  redintegrate 
the  mifapplied  and  abufed  name  of  nr.tural 
magic,  which  in  the  true  fenfe  is  but  na- 
tural wifdom,    or  natural  prudence  ;  taken 

accord- 


ON   NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY.  I'-j'J 

according  to  the  ancient  acceptation,  purged 
from  vanity  and  luperftition. 

Now  although  it  be  true,  and  1  know  it 
well,  that  there  is  an  intercourfe  between 
caufes  and  effects,  fo  as  both  thefe  know- 
ledges, Tpeculative  and  operative,  have  a 
great  connection  between  themielves ;  yet, 
becaufe  all  true  and  fruitful  natural  philo- 
fophy  has  a  double  fcale  or  ladder,  afcen- 
dent  and  defcendent ;  afcending  from  expe- 
riments to  the  invention  of  caufes;  and 
defcending  from  caufes  to  the  invention  of 
new  experiments ;  therefore  I  judge  it  mofl 
requifite,  that  thefe  two  parts  be  feverally 
conlidered. 

Natural  fcience,  or  theory,  is  divided 
into  phyfic  and  metaphyfic ;  wherein  I  de- 
fire  it  may  be  conceived,  that  I  ufe  the  word 
metaphyfic  in  a  different  fenfe  from  that 
which  is  received ;  and,  in  like  manner,  I 
doubt  not  but  it  will  eafily  appear  to  men  of 
judgment,  that  in  this  and  other  particulars, 
wherefoever  my  conception  and  notion  may 
differ  from,  the  ancient,  yet  I  am  ftudious  to 
keep  the  ancient  terms. 

Vol.  II.  N  For 


I'^t  ON    NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY. 

For  hoping  to  deliver  myfelf  from  any 
miftake,  by  the  order  and  perfpicuous  ex- 
prefling  of  what  I  propound  ;  I  am  other- 
wife  zealous  and  affedlionate  to  recede  as 
little  from  antiquity,  either  in  terms  or  opi- 
nions, as  may  ftand  with  truth,  and  the  pro- 
ficiency of  knowledge. 

Physic,  taking  it  according  to  the  deri- 
vation, and  not  according  to  our  idiom  for 
medicine,  is  lituate  in  a  middle  term,  or 
diftance,  between  natural  hiftory  and  meta- 
phyfic :  for  natural  hiftory  defcribes  the 
variety  of  things,  phyfic  the  caufes,  but  va* 
riable  or  refpedive  caufes  ;  and  metaphyfic^ 
the  fixed  and  conftant  caufes. 

L'lmus  tit  h'lc  durefcit,  et  haec  ut  cera  liquefcUj 
TJno  eodemq^ue  igne. 

Fire  is  the  caufe  of  Induration  but  refpecSlive 
to  clay:  fire  is  the  caufe  of  colliquation  but 
refpeftive  to  wax :  but  fire  is  no  conftant  caufe 
either  of  induration  or  colliquation;  fo  then 
the  phyfical  caufes  are  but  the  efficient  and 
the  matter. 

'^  Physic 


ON   NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY. 


^79 


Physic  hath  three  parts;  whereof  two 
re'fpe6l  nature  united  or  colle6led,  the  third 
contemplates  nature  diffufed  or  diftributcd. 

Nature  is  collecftcd  either  into  one  entire 
total,  or  elfe  into  the  fame  principles  or  feeds. 
So  as  the  firfl  do6lrine  is  touchino;  the  con- 
texture  or  configuration  of  things ;  as  de 
mundo,  de  wiroerjitatc  rerum. 

The  fecond  is  the  doftrine  concerning  the 
principles  or  originals  of  things. 

The  third  is  the  doctrine  concerning  all 
variety  and  particularity  of  things :  whether 
it  be  of  the  different  fubflances,  or  their  dif- 
ferent qualities  and  natures :  whereof  there 
needs  no  enumeration,  this  part  being  but  as 
a  glofs  or  paraph rafe,  that  attends  upon  the 
text  of  natural  hiftory. 

Of  thefe  three  I  cannot  report  any  as  de- 
ficient. In  what  truth  or  perfection  they 
are  handled,  I  make  not  now  any  judgment: 
but  they  are  parts  of  knowledge  not  deferted 
bv  the  labour  of  man. 

N  2  For 


l8o  ON    NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY. 

For  Metaphysic,  we  affign  unto 
it  the  enquiry  of  formal  and  final  caufes ; 
which  affignation,  as  to  the  former  of  them, 
may  feem  to  be  nugatory  and  void,  becaufe 
of  the  received  and  inveterate  opinion,  that 
the  inquifition  of  man  is  not  competent  to 
find  out  eflential  forms,  or  true  differences: 
of  which  opinion  we  w^ill  take  this  hold, 
that  the  invention  of  forms  is,  of  all  other 
parts  of  knowledge,  the  moft  worthy  to  be 
fought,  if  it  can  pofTibly  be  found. 

As  for  the  pofTibility,  they  are  bad  difco- 
verers  that  think  there  is  no  land,  when  they 
can  fee  nothing  but  fea. 

But  it  is  manifeft,  that  Plato,  in  his  opi- 
nion of  ideas,  as  one  that  had  a  wit  of  eleva- 
tion fituate  as  upon  a  cliff,  did  defcry,  "  That 
*'  forms  were  the  true  object  of  knowledge;" 
but  loft  the  real  fruit  of  his  opinion,  by 
confidering  of  forms  as  abfolutely  abftra£led 
from  matter,  and  not  confined  and  deter- 
mined by  matter ;  and  fo  turning  his  opinion 
upon  theology,  wherewith  all  his  natural 
philofophy  is  infeded. 

But 


ON    NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY.  iSl 

But  if  any  man  fhall  keep  a  continual 
watchful  and  fevere  eye  upon  adion,  opera- 
tion, and  the  ufe  of  knowledge,  he  may 
advife  and  take  notice  what  are  the  forms, 
the  difclofures  whereof  are  fruitful  and  im- 
portant to  the  ftate  of  man.  For  as  to  the 
forms  of  fubflances,  man  only  excepted,  of 
whom  it  is  faid,  Formav'it  homlnem  de  limo 
terrae,  et  fpiravh  In  facie  m  ejus  fpiraculum  vi^ 
tae ;  and  not  as  of  all  other  creatures ;  Pro- 
ducant  aquae  ^  pro  ducat  terra  ;  the  forms  of 
fubftances,  I  fay,  as  they  are  now  multi- 
plied, by  compounding  and  tranfplanting, 
are  fo  perplexed,  as  not  to  be  invefligated ; 
no  more  than  it  were  either  poffible,  or  to  the 
purpofe,  to  feek  in  grofs  the  forms  of  thofe 
founds  that  make  words,  which,  by  com- 
pofition  and  tranfpofition  of  letters,  are  in- 
fmite. 

But,  on  the  other  fide,  to  enquire  the 
form  of  thofe  founds  or  voices  which  make 
fimple  letters,  is  eafily  comprehended;  and, 
being  known,  induces  and  manifefts  the 
forms  of  all  words,  which  confifl  and  are 
compounded  of  them.  In  the  fame  manner 
to  enquire  the  form  of  a  lion,  of  an  oak,  of 
N3  gold  J 


152  ON    NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY^ 

gold;  nay,  of  water,  of  air,  is  a  vain  pur- 
fuit :  but  to  enquire  the  forms  of  fenfe,  of 
voluntary  motion,  of  vegetation,  of  colours, 
of  gravity  and  levity,  of  denfity,  of  tenuity, 
of  heat,  of  cold,  and  all  other  natures  and 
qualities,,  which,  like  an  alphabet,  are  not 
many,  and  of  which  the  effences,  upheld  by 
matter,  of  all  creatures  do  cpnfiil::  to  en- 
quire, I  fay,  the  true  form  of  thefe,  is  that 
part  of  metaphyfic  which  we  now  define. 

Not  but  that  phyfic  doth  make  enquiry, 
and  take  confideration  of  the  fame  natures: 
but  how  ?  Only  as  to  the  material  and  ef- 
ficient caufes  of  them,  and  not  as  to  the 
forms.  For  example  :  if  the  caufeof  white- 
nefs  in  fnow  or  froth  be  enquired,  and  it  be 
rendered  thus;  that  the  fubtile  Intermixture 
of  air  and  water  is  the  caufe,  it  is  well  ren- 
dered; but,  neverthelefs,  is  this  the  form 
of  whitenefs  ?  No ;  but  it  is  the  efficient, 
"Vvhich  is  ever  but  vehkidum  formae. 

We  come  uow  to  that  knowledge  where- 
ijnto  the  ancient  oracle  dire£ls  us,  which  is 
tlie  knowledge  of  ourfelves;  that  deferves 
the  more  accurate  handling,  by  how  much. 

it 


1 


ON    NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY.  1 83 

it  touches  us  more  nearly.  This  know- 
ledge, as  it  is  the  end  and  term  of  natural 
philofophy  in  the  intention  of  man,  fo,  not- 
withftanding,  it  is  but  a  portion  of  natural 
philofophy  in  the  continent  of  nature;  and 
generally  let  this  be  a  rule,  that  all  parti- 
tions of  knowledge  be  accepted  rather  for 
lines  and  veins,  than  for  fe6lions  and  fepa- 
rations;  and  that  the  continuance  and  en- 
tirenefs  of  knowledge  be  preferved.  For  the 
contrary  hereof  has  made  particular  fciences 
to  become  barren,  fhallow,  and  erroneous, 
while  they  have  not  been  nouriihed  and 
maintained  from  the  common  fountain.  So 
we  fee  Cicero  the  Orator  complained  of  So- 
crates and  his  fchool,  that  he  was  the  firft 
that  feparated  philofophy  and  rhetoric, 
whereupon  rhetoric  became  an  empty  and 
verbal  art.  So  we  may  fee  the  opinion 
of  Copernicus  touching  the  rotation  of  the 
earth,  which  aftronomy  itfclf  cannot  cor- 
real, bccaufe  it  is  not  repugnant  to  any  of 
the  phaenomena,  yet  natural  philofophy  may 
corre6b.  We  fee  alfo  that  the  fcience  of 
medicine,  if  it  be  dellitute  and  forfaken  by 
natural  philofophy,  is  not  much  better 
than  an  empirica)  pradice. 

N  4  HUMAN 


1S4  O^    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY. 


HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY. 

Human  phllofophy,  or  humanity,  hath 
two   parts :  the    one   confiders   man    fegre- 
gate  or  diflributively  :  the  other  congregate, 
or  in  fociety.     So  that  human  philofophy  is 
either  fimple  and  particular,    or  conjugate 
and  civiL     Humanity  particularly  confifts 
of  the  fame  parts  of  which  man  confifts  :  that 
is,  of  knowledge  which  refpe£ls  the  body, 
and  of  knowledge  that  refpe6ls  the  mind : 
but  before  we  diflribute  fo  far,  it  is  good  to 
conftitute.      For   I    take    the    confideration 
in  general,  and  at  large,   of  human  nature, 
to  be  fit  to  be  emancipated  and  made  a  know-. 
ledge  by  itfelf ;  not  fo  much  with  regard  to 
thofe  delightful  andelegantdifcourfcs  which 
have  been  m.ade  of  the  dignity  of  man,  of 
his  miferies,  of  his  ftate  and   life,  and  the 
like  adjuncts  of  his  common  and  undivided 
nature;   but  chiefly   in  regard  to  the  know- 
ledge concerning  the   fympathies  and  con- 
cordances between  the  mind  and  body,  which 
being  mixed,  cannot  be  properly  afligned  to 
the  fciences  of  either. 

This 


ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY.  185 

This  knowledge  has  tw  -  branches:  for 
as  all  leagues  and  amities  confifi:  of  mutual 
intelligence  and  mutual  offices,  fo  this  league 
of  mind  and  body  has  thefe  two  parts,  how 
the  one  difclofes  tlie  other,  and  how  the 
one  works  ucou  the  other,  difcovery  and 
impreffiou. 

The  former  of  thefe  has  begotten  two 
arts,  both  of  predicl'on  orprenotion ;  whereof 
the  one  is  honoured  with  the  enquiry  of 
Anjlotk^  and  the  other  of  Hippncrates,  And 
although  they  have  of  later  time  been  uf^d 
to  be  coupled  with  fuperftition  and  fantaftic 
arts,  yet,  being  purged  and  reftored  to 
their  true  flate,  they  have  both  of  them  a 
fohd  ground  in  nature,  and  a  profitable  ufe 
in  life.  The  firfl  is  phyfiognomy,  which, 
difcovers  the  difpofition  of  the  mind  by  the 
lineaments  of  the  body :  the  fecond  is  the 
expofition  of  natural  dreams,  which  difco- 
vers the  ftate  of  the  body  by  the  Imagina- 
tions of  the  mind".  In  the  former  of  thefe 
I  note  a  deficience;  for  Jlrijiotk  has  very 
ingenioufly  and  diligently  handled  the  fea- 
tures, but  not  the  geftures  of  the  body, 
which  are  no  lefs  ccmprehenfible  by  art, 

and 


J  86  ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY. 

snd  of  greater  ufe  and  advantage.  For  the 
lineaments  of  the  body  dlfclofe  the  difpO' 
fition  and  inclination  of  the  mind  in  general : 
but  the  motion  of  the  countenance  and  parts 
do  not  only  fo,  but  do  further  difclofe  tlic 
prefe^it  humour  and  ftate  of  the  mind  and 
will.  For,  as  your  majcity  faith  moft  aptly 
and  elegantly,  "  As  the  tongue  fpeaketh  to 
''  the  ear,  fo  the  gefture  fpeaketh  to  the 
*'  eye."  And  therefore  a  number  of  fubtle 
perfons,  whofe  eyes  dwell  upon  the  faces 
and  fafhions  of  men,  do  well  know  the  ad- 
vantage of  this  obfervation,  as  being  moft 
part  of  their  abihty :  neither  can  it  be  de- 
nied, but  that  it  is  a  great  difcovery  of  diffi- 
mulation,  and  a  great  dir^^lion  in  bufmefs. 

The  latter  branch,  touching  impreflion, 
has  not  been  collected  into  art,  but  has  been 
handled  difperfedly  :  and  it  has  the  fame  rela- 
tion or  analogy  as  the  former.  For  the  con- 
sideration is  double :  *'  Either  how,  and  how 
*^  far  the  humours  and  effeds  of  the  body  do 
f '  alter  or  work  upon  the  m.ind  ;"  or,  how, 
*'  and  how  far  the  paflions  or  apprehenfionsof 
*♦  the  mind  do  alter  or  work  upon  the  body.'* 
The  former  of  thefe  has  been  enquired  and 
confidered  as  a  part  and  appendix  of  medi- 
cine. 


ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY.  1 87 

cine,  but  much  more  as  a  part  of  religion  or 
fuperflition :  for  the  phyfician  prefcribeth 
cures  of  the  mind  in  frenzies  and  melan- 
choly paffions,  and  pretends  alfo  to  exhibit 
medicines  to  exhilarate  the  mind,  to  confirm 
the  courage,  to  clarify  the  wits,  to  corrobo- 
rate the  memory,  and  the  like :  but  the  fcru- 
ples  and  fuperflitions  of  diet,  and  other 
regimen  of  the  body,  in  the  fe£l  of  the  Py- 
ihagcreans,  in  the  herefy  of  the  Manicheans, 
and  in  the  law  of  Mahomet^  do  exceed :  fb 
likewife  the  ordinances  in  the  ceremonial 
law,  interdidling  the  eating  of  the  blood  and 
fat,  diftinguifhing  between  beafts  clean  and 
unclean  for  meat,  are  many  and  ftriiO:.  Nay, 
the  faith  itfelf,  being  clear  and  ferene  from 
all  clouds  of  ceremony,  yet  retains  the 
ufe  of  failings,  abftinences,  and  other  ma- 
cerations and  humiliations  of  the  body,  as 
things  real  and  not  figurative.  The  root 
and  life  of  all  which  prefcripts  are,  beflde 
the  ceremony,  the  confideration  of  that  de- 
pendency, which  the  affedlions  of  the  mind 
are  fubmitted  unto,  upon  the  ftate  and  difpo- 
fition  of  the  body.  And  if  any  man  of  weak 
judgment  conceives,  that  this  fufil^ing  of 
the  mind  from  the  body  does  either  queftion 

the 


l88  ON   HUMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

the  Immortality,  or  derogate  from  the  fove- 
reignty  of  the  foul,  he  may  be  taught,  in 
eafy  inftances,  that  the  infant  in  the  mother's 
womb  is  compatible  with  the  mother,  and 
yet  feparable :  and  the  mofl  abfolute  mo- 
narch is  fometimes  led  by  his  fervants,  and 
yet  without  fubje£lion.  As  for  the  recipro- 
cal knowledge,  which  is  the  operation  of 
the  conceits  and  paffions  of  the  mind  upon 
the  body,  we  fee  all  wife  phylicians,  in 
the  prefcriptions  of  their  regimens  to  their 
patients,  do  ever  conlider  accidentia  animi,  as 
of  great  force  to  further  or  hinder  remedies 
or  recoveries ;  and  more  efpecially  it  is  an 
enquiry  of  great  depth  and  worth  concerning 
imagination,  how,  and  how  far  it  alters  the 
body  proper  of  the  imaginant ;  for  although 
it  has  a  manifefl  power  to  hurt,  it  follows 
not  it  has  the  fame  degree  of  power  to  help ; 
no  more  than  a  man  can  conclude,  that  be- 
caufe  there  be  peflilent  airs,  able  fuddenly 
to  kill  a  man  in  health,  therefore  there  fhould 
be  fovereign  airs,  able  fuddenly  to  cure  a 
man  in  iicknefs.  But  the  inquifition  of  this 
part  is  of  great  ufe,  though  it  needs,  as 
Soc?'ates  {zid,  *'  a  Delian  diver ;"  being  dif- 
ficult and  profound.  But  unto  all  this  know- 
ledge. 


ON    HUMAN   PHILOSOPHY,  1S9 

ledge,  de  communl  vinculo ^  of  the  concordances 
between  the  mind  and  the  body,  that  part  of 
enquiry  is  mofl  necefl'ary  which  confiders 
the  feats  and  domiciles,  which  the  feveral 
faculties  of  the  mind  take  and  occupy 
in  the  organs  of  the  body  :  which  knowledge 
has  been  attempted  and  is  controverted,  and 
deferves  a  much  better  enquiry.  For  the 
opinion  oiPlato^  who  placed  the  underiland- 
ing  in  the  brain,  animofity  (which  he  did 
unfitly  call  anger,  having  a  greater  mixture 
with  pride)  in  the  heart,  and  concupifcence 
or  fenfuality  in  the  liv^er,  deferves  not  to  be 
defpifed,  but  much  lels  to  be  allowed. 

The  knowledge  that  concerns  man's  body 
is  divided,  as  the  good  of  man's  body  is  di- 
vided, unto  which  it  refers.  The  good  of 
man's  body  is  of  four  kinds;  health,  beauty, 
flrength  and  pleafure :  fo  the  knowledge 
is,  medicine,  or  art  of  cure;  art  of  decora- 
tion, which  is  called  cofmetic ;  art  of  adi- 
vity,  which  is  called  athletic ;  and  art  volup- 
tuary, which  Tacitus  truly  calls  eruditus  luxus. 
This  fubjedl  of  man's  body  is,  of  all  other 
things  in  nature,  mofl  fufceptible  of  remedy ; 
but  then  that  remedy  is  mofl  fufceptible  of 
error.    For  the  flime  fubtilty  of  the  fubject 

caufes 


Ipb  oK    HITMAN    PrtlLOSOPHt. 

Caufes  large  poifibility  and  eafy  falling ;  arid 
therefore  the  enquiry  ought  to  be  the  more 
exa<^. 

To  fpeak  therefore  of  medicine,  and  to 
refume  that  we  have  faid,  afcending  a  httle 
higher;  the  ancient  opinion  that  man  was 
jnicrocofmus^  an  abftradl  or  model  of  the  world, 
has  been  fantaftically  flrained  by  Paracelfus, 
and  the  alchymifts,  as  if  there  were  to  be 
found  in  man's  body  certain  correfpondences 
and  parallels,  which  (hould  have  refpe6t  to 
all  varieties  of  things,  as  flarsj  planets,  mi- 
nerals, which  are  extant  in  the  great  world. 
But  thus  much  is  evidently  true,  that  of  all 
fubilances  which  nature  has  produced,  man's 
body  is  the  moft  extremely  compounded: 
for  we  fee  herbs  and  plants  are  nourifhed  by 
earth  and  water ;  beafls,  for  the  moft  part, 
by  herbs  and  fruits;  man  by  the  flefh  of 
beafts,  birds,  fifties,  herbs,  grains,  fruits, 
water,  and  the  manifold  alterations,  dref- 
fings,  and  preparations  of  thefe  feveral  bo- 
dies, before  they  come  to  be  his  food  and 
aliment.  Add  hereunto,  that  beafts  have  a 
more  ftmple  order  of  life,  andlefs  change  of 
affedions  to  work  upon  their  bodies ;  where- 
as 


I 


on    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY.  ipl 

as  man  In  his  manfion,  fleep,  exerclfe,  and 
pafiions,  has  infinite  variations  :  and  it  cannot 
be  denied,  but  that  the  body  of  man,  of  all 
other  things,  is  of  the  mofl  compounded 
mafs.  The  foul,  on  the  other  fide,  is  the 
moft  fimple  of  fubflances,  as  is  well  ex* 
prefled: 


Purumque  rcliquit, 


Acthereum  fenjiim,  atque  aural  fimpUcis  ignem. 

So  that  it  is  no  marvel  though  the  foul  fo 
placed  enjoy  no  reft,  if  that  principle  be 
true,  that  Motusrerum  ejlrapidus  extra  locum, 
flacldus  in  locQ,  But  to  the  purpofe :  this 
variable  compofition  of  naan's  body  has  made 
It  as  an  inllrument  eafy  to  diftemper;  and 
therefore  the  poets  did  well  to  conjoin  mu- 
fic  and  medicine  in  Apollo,  becaufe  the  office 
of  medicine  is  but  to  tune  this  curious  harp 
of  man's  body,  and  to  reduce  it  to  harmony. 
So  then,  the  fubjecl  being  fo  variable,  has 
made  the  art,  by  confequence,  more  con> 
jedural;  which  has  made  fo  much  the 
more  place  to  be  left  for  impofture.  For 
almoft  all  other  arts  and  fciences  are  judged 
by  acls   or  maftcr-pieces,   u»  they  may  be 

ternic^d, 


tQl  ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY. 

termed,  and  not  by  the  faccefles  and  events* 
The  lawyer  is  judged  by  the  virtue  of  his 
pleading,  and  not  by  the  ilTue  of  the  caufe* 
The  mafler  of  the  fhip  is  judged  by  the 
dire£ling  his  courfe  right,  and  not  by  the 
fortune  of  the  voyage.  But  the  phyfician, 
and  perhaps  the  politician,  have  no  particu- 
lar ads  demonftrative  of  their  ability,  but  are 
moftly  judged  by  the  event;  which  is  ever 
but  as  it  is  taken :  for  w^ho  can  tell  if  a 
patient  die  or  recover,  or  if  a  ftate  be  pre- 
ferved  or  ruined,  whether  it  be  art  or  acci- 
dent ?  And  therefore  many  times  the  im- 
poflor  is  prized,  and  the  man  of  virtue  taxed. 

Medicine  is  a  fcience  which  has  been,  as 
we  have  faid,  more  profefled  than  laboured, 
and  yet  more  laboured  than  advanced  :  the 
labour  having  been,  in  my  judgment,  rather 
in  circle  than  in  progreffion.  For  I  find  much 
repetition,  but  fmall  addition.  It  confiders 
the  caufes  of  difeafes,  with  the  occafions  or 
impulfions ;  the  difeafes  tliemfelves,  with 
the  accidents;  and  the  cures,  with  the  pre- 
fer vations. 


In 


ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY,  1^3 

In  the  confiderationof  the  cures  of  difeafes 
I  find  a  defiGience  h\  the  receipts  of  propriety,- 
refpedling  the  particular  cures  of  difeafes : 
for  the  phyficians   have   frustrated  the  fruit 
of    tradition    and    experience   by   their  ma-^ 
giflerially,     adding    and    taking    out,     and 
changing  quid  pro  quo,   in  their  receipts,  at 
their. pleafure ;  fo  commanding  over  the  me- 
dicine,   as  the  medicine   cannot    command 
over  the  difeafe  :   for,  except  it  be  treacle  and 
mithridatum,  and  of  late  diafcordium,  ajid  a 
few  more,  they  tie  themfelves  to  no  receipts 
feverely  and  religioufly:   for  as  to  the  con- 
fedions  of  lale  wdiich  are  in  the  fhops,  they 
are  for  readinefs,  and  not  for  propriety  ;   fof 
they  are  upon  general  intentions  of  purging, 
opening,  comforting,  altering,  and  not  much 
appropriated  to  particular  difeafes;   and  this 
is   the  caufe  why  empirics  and  old  women 
are  more  happy  many  times  in  their  cures^ 
than   learned  phyficians,    becaufe   they  are 
more  religious  in  holding  their   medicines* 
Therefore,   here   is  the   deficience  which  I 
find ;  that  phyficians  have  not,  partly  out  of 
their  own  practice,  partly  out  of  their  con- 
ftant  probations  reported  in  books,  and  partly 
out  of  the  traditions  of  empirics,  fet  down 
Vol.  IL  O  and 


194-  ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY. 

and  delivered  over  certain  experimental  me- 
dicines, for  the  cure  of  particular  difeafes, 
belides  their  own  conjectural  and  magifterial 
defcriptions.  For  as  they  were  the  men  of 
the  beft  compofition  in  the  ftate  of  Rome^ 
which  either  being  confuls  inclined  to  the 
people,  or  tribunes  inclined  to  the  fenate : 
fo  in  the  matter  we  now  handle,  they  are 
the  beft  phylicians  who,  being  learned,  in- 
cline to  the  traditions  of  experience  ;  or, 
being  empirics,  incline  to  the  methods  of 
learning. 

In  preparation  of  medicines  I  find  it  flrange, 
(efpecially  confldering  how   mineral  medi- 
cines have  been  extolled,  and  that  they  are 
fafer  for  the  outward  than  inward  parts)  that 
no  man  hath  fought  to  make  an  imitation 
by  art  of  natural  baths,  and  medicinal  foun- 
tains; which,  neverthelefs,  are  confeffed  to 
receive  their  virtues  fi*om minerals;  and  not 
only  fo,  but  difcerned  and  diftiuguiihed  from 
what  particular  mineral  they  receive  tinc- 
ture, as  fulphur,  vitriol,  fleel,  or  the  like  ; 
which  nature,  if  it  may  be  reduced  to  com- 
pofition  of  art,   both  the  variety  of  them 

will 


ON  Human  philosophy.         ig^ 

^all  be  increafed,  and  the  temper  of  them 
will  be  more  commanded. 


For  Cosmetic,  it  hath  parts  civil,  and 
parts  effeminate :  for  cleannefs  of  body  was 
ever  efteemed  to  proceed  from  a  due  reve- 
rence to  God,  to  focietv,  and  to  ourfeives* 
As  for  artificial  decoration,  it  is  well  worthy 
of  the  deficiences  which  it  has  ;  being  nei- 
ther fine  enough  to  deceive,  nor  handfome 
to  ufe,  nor  wholefome  to  pleafe* 

For  Athletic,  I  take  the  fubje6l  of  k 
largely :  that  is  to  fay,  for  any  point  of  ability, 
'whereunto  the  body  of  man  may  be  brought, 
whether  it  be  of  adivity,  or  of  patience ; 
whereof  activity  has  two  parts,  ftrength  and 
fwiftnefs:  and  patience  likewife  has  two 
parts,  hardnefs  againft  wants  and  extre- 
mities, and  endurance  of  pain  or  tormc;nt ; 
whereof  we  fee  the  practices  in  tumblers, 
in  favages,  and  in  thofe  that  fuffer  punifh- 
ment:  nay,  if  there  be  any  other  faculty 
which  falls  not  VvUthin  any  of  the  former  di- 
vifions,  as  in  thofe  that  dive,  who  obtain  a 
ftrange  power  of  containing  refpiration,  and 
the  like,  I  refer  it  to  this  part.  Of  thefe 
O  2f  things 


196  ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY- 

things    the  prafllces  are  known,    but  the 
philofophy  that  concerns  them  is  not  much 
enquired ;  the  rather  I  think,  becaufe  they 
are  fuppofed  to  be  obtained,    either  by  an 
aptnefs  of  nature  which  cannot  be  taught, 
or  only  by  continual  cuftom,  which  is  foon 
prefcribed;  which  though   it  be  too   true, 
yet  I  forbear  to  note  any  deficiences ;  for  the 
Olympian  games  are  down  long  fuice,  and  the 
mediocrity  of  thefe  things  is  for  ufe:   as  for 
the  excellency  of  them,  it   ferves,   for  the 
moft  part,  but  for  mercenary  oflentation. 

For  Arts  of  fenfual  pleafure,  the  chief 
deficience  in  them  is  ©flaws  toreprefsthem. 
For  as  it   has  been  well  obferved,  that  the 
arts  which  flourifh  in  times  while  virtue  is 
in  growth,  are  miHtary;  and  while  virtue 
is  in  ftate,  are    liberal;    but  when  in  de- 
clination, are  voluptuary :  fo  I  doubt,  that 
this  age  of  the  world  is  fomewhat  upon  the 
defcent  of  the  wheel.  With  arts  voluptuary 
I  couple  praaices  joculary ;  for  the  deceiving 
of  the  fenfes  is  one  of  the  pleafures  of  the 
fenfes.     As  for  games  of  recreation,  I  hold 
them  to  belong  to  civil  life  and  education. 
And  thus  much  of  that  particular  human 

philo- 


ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY.  1 97 

phllofophy  which  concerns  the  body,  which 
is  but  the  tabernacle  of  the  mind. 

For  human  knowledge,  which  concerns 
the  mind,  it  has  two  parts;  one  that  en- 
quires the  fubftance  or  nature  of  the  foul  or 
mind,  the  other  that  enquires  the  faculties 
or  functions  thereof. 

Unto  the  firft  of  thefe,  the  confiderations 
of  the  origin  of  the  foul,  whether  it  be 
native  or  adventive,  and  how  far  it  is  ex- 
empted from  laws  of  matter,  the  immorta- 
lity thereof,  and  many  other  points  which 
belong  to  it,  and  that  have  been  not  more 
laborioufly  enquired,  than  varioufly  reported ; 
fo  as  the  traveller  therein  taken  feems  to 
have  been  rather  in  a  maze  than  in  a  way. 
But  although  I  am  of  opinion,  that  this 
knowledge  may  be  more  really  and  foundly 
enquired  even  in  nature  than  it  has  been; 
yet  I  hold,  that  in  the  end  it  muft  be  bounded 
by  religion,  or  elfe  it  will  be  fubje(5l  to  de- 
ceit and  delufion :  for  as  the  fubftance  of  the 
foul  in  the  creation  was  not  extradled  out  of 
the  mafs  of  heaven  and  earth,  by  the  bene- 
di(!lion  of  a  producat,  but  was  immediately 
0  I  in. 


I9S  ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY, 

infpired  from  God ;  fo  it  is  not  poilible  tha^ 
itfhould  be,  otherwlfe  than  by  accident,  fub- 
je£l  to  the  laws  of  heaven  and  earth,  which 
are  the  fubjetO:  of  philofophy ;  and  therefore 
the  true  knowledge  of  the  nature  and  ftate 
of  the  foul  mufl  come  by  the  fame  inlpira- 
tion  that  gave  the  fubflance. 

The  knowledge  which  refpe^ls  th^  facul« 
ties  of  the  mind  of  man,  is  of  two  kinds  ;  the 
pne  refpe6ling  his  underftanding  and  reafon, 
^nd  the  other  his  will,  appetite,  and  affec- 
tion; whereof  the  former  produces  pofition 
or  decree,  the  latter  a6lion  or  execution.  It 
is  true,  that  the  imagination  is  an  agent  or 
puficius  in  both  provinces,  both  the  judicial, 
and  the  miniilerial.  For  fenfe  fends  over 
t'O  imagination  before  reafon  has  judged,  and 
reafon  fends  over  to  imagination  before  the 
decree  can  be  acled :  for  imagination  ever 
precedes  voluntary  motion,  faving  that  this 
Janus  of  imagination  has  different  faces;  for 
the  face  tow^ards  reafon  has  the  print  of 
truth,  but  the  face  towards  a6lion  has  the 
print  of  good  ;  \yhich  neverthelefs  are  faces  ♦ 

^ales  cleat  ejfe  fororum. 

I  Nei- 


ON   HUMAN   PHILOSOPHY.  I99 

Neither  is  the  imagination  fimply  and 
only  a  meflenger,  but  is  invefled  with,  or 
at  leafl:  ufurps  no  fmall  authority  in  itfelf, 
befides  the  duty  of  the  meffage.  For  it  was 
well  faid  by  Ariptle  ;  "  That  the  mind  hath 
*«  over  the  body  that  commandment  which 
"  the  lord  hath  over  a  bondman;  but  that 
*'  reafon  hath  over  the  imagination  that 
"  commandment  which  a  magiftrate  hath 
"  over  a  tree  citizen ;"  who  may  come  alfo 
to  rule  in  his  turn.  For  we  fee,  that  in 
matters  of  faith  and  religion  we  raife  our 
imagination  above  our  reafon,  which  is  the 
cauie  why  religion  ever  fought  accefs  to  the 
mind,  by  fnnilitudes,  types,  parables,  vi- 
fions,  and  dreams.  Again,  in  all  perfualions 
that  are  wrought  by  eloquence,  and  other 
impreiTions  of  like  nature,  which  paint  and 
difgulfe  the  true  appearance  of  thing'^,  the 
chief  recommendation  to  reafon  is  from 
the  imagination. 

The  part  of  human  philofophy  which  is 
rational,  of  all  knowledge,  to  mofl  wits,  is 
the  leafl  dehghtful,  and  feems  but  a  net  of 
fubtilty  and  fpinofity :  for  as  it  was  truly 
faid,  that  knowledge  is  pabulum  ammi;  fo  in 
O  4  the 


%Q0  ON    HUMAN    PHILOSOPHY. 

the  nature  of  mens  appetite  to  this  food, 
moft  men  are  of  the  tafte  and  ftomach  of 
the  Ifrcielites  in  the  defart,  who  would  fain 
have  returned  ad  ollas  carnium,  and  were 
weary  of  manna :  which,  though  it  were  ce- 
leftial,  yet  feemed  lefs  nutritiv^e  and  com- 
fortable :  fo  generally  men  tafte  well  know- 
ledge that  is  drenched  in  flefh  and  blood, 
civil  hiftory,  morality,  policy,  about  which 
mens  affedions,  praifes,  fortunes,  do  turn 
and  are  converfant ;  but  this  fame  lume7i  fie- 
cum  doth  parch  and  offend  mofl:  mens  watery 
and  foft  natures.  But  to  fpeak  truly  of 
things  as  they  are  in  worth,  rational  know- 
ledge is  the  key  of  all  other  arts  ;  for  as 
Arijlotk  fays  aptly  and  elegantly,  "  That 
"  the  hand  is  the  inftrument  of  inflruments, 
''.and  the  mind  is  the  form  of  forms:"  fo 
thefe  are  truly  faid  to  be  the  art  of  arts  : 
neither  do  they  only  dire6l,  but  likewife  con- 
firm and  ftrengthen :  even  as  the  habit  of 
fhooting  does  not  only  enable  to  fhoot  a 
iiearer  fhot,  but  alfo  to  draw  a  ftronger  bow, 


ON 


ON      MEMORY.  20| 


ON         MEMORY. 


^TTE  will  divide  the  art  of  retaining,  or  of 
the  cuftody  of  knowledge,  into  two 
do£lrines :  that  is,  the  dodlrine  touching  the 
helps  of  memory,  and  that  which  refpeds 
the  memory  itfelf.  A  help  to  memory  is 
writing,  no  doubt ;  and  it  mufl:  by  all  means 
be  noted,  that  memory,  without  this  fup- 
port,  w^ould  be  too  weak  for  more  prolix  and 
accurate  matters  :  therefore  there  can  hardly 
be  a  thing  more  ufeful  to  memory,  than  a 
fubftantial  and  learned  digefl:  of  common 
places.  Yet  I  am  not  ignorant,  that  the 
transferring  thofe  things  we  read  or  learn  to 
common  places,  is  reckoned  by  fome  as  a 
prejudice  to  learning,  retarding  the  courfeo^f 
it,  and  encouraging  the  memory  in  idlenefs. 
Neverthelefs,  becaufe  it  is  but  a  counterfeit 
bufinefs,  to  be  pregnant  and  forward  in  learn- 
ing, unlefs  you  are  withal  folid,  and  every 
way  furnifhed :  I  hold  the  diligence  and 
pains  in  collecting  common  places,  to  be  a 
inatter  of  very  gre;it  ufe  and  certainty  in 

Rudy] 


202  ON       MEMORY. 

ftudy;  as  that  which  furnifhes  plenty  to 
invention,  and  contrails  the  eye  of  the  j^idg- 
Hient  to  a  point.  It  is  true,  however,  that 
of  the  methods  and  fyftems  of  common- 
places, I  have  chanced  to  fee  hitherto,  there 
is  none  of  any  worth ;  for  in  their  titles 
they  carrv  the  face  of  a  fchool,  rather  than 
of  the  world;  making  vulgar  and  pedantic 
divifions,  and  not  fuch  as  any  way  penetrate 
the  marrow  and  pith  of  things. 

As  for  memory  itfelf,  that  feems  hitherto 
to  have  been  enquired  into,  without  method 
or  accuracy.  An  art  indeed  there  is  extant 
of  it:  but  we  are  certain,  that  there  may  be 
had  both  better  precepts,  for  the  confirming 
and  increafmg  memory,  than  that  art  com- 
prehends; and  a  better  practice  of  that 
very  art  may  be  contrived,  than  that  what 
is  received.  Yet  I  make  no  doubt,  but  if 
a  man  has  a  mind  to  abufe  this  art  to  often- 
tation,  fome  wonderful  and  prodigious  mat- 
ters may  be  performed  by  it:  neverthelefs, 
for  ufe,  as  it  is  managed,  it  is  but  barren. 
However,  I  do  not  tax  it  with  deflroying  and 
over-charging  the  natural  memory,  which 
is  cpmmonly  objeded;  but  that  it  is  not 

dex- 


ON      M    E    INI    O    R    \%  203 

dexteroufly  applied  to  lend  affidance  to  me* 
mory  in  buiiiiels  and    ferious  afrairs.     And 
we  have  learned,  perhaps,    from   our   civil 
courfe  of  life,  not  to  value  things  that  make 
oftentation  of  art,  but  are  of  no  ufe.     For  to 
repeat  inftantly  a  vaft  number  of  names  or 
words,   upon  once  hearing,  in  the  f^ime  or- 
der they  were  delivered ;  or  to   pour   forth 
abundance  of  verfes  upon  any  argument  ex->- 
tempore-,  or  to  touch  every  thing  that  occurs 
with   fome  fatyrical  fimil :  ;  or   to  turn  all 
things   ferious   into  a  jeft;  or  to  elude  any 
thing  by  contradiction  or  cavil,  and  the  like  ; 
whereof  in  the  faculties  of  the  mind  there  is 
a  great  ftore ;  and  which  by  wit  and  pra6lice 
may  be  carried  even  to  a  miracle:  all  thefe 
and  fuch  like  thln2:s  we  make  no  more  ac- 
count  of,  than  of  the  agiUties  and  tricks  of 
rope-dancers,  tumblers,    and   jugglers:   for 
they  are,  in  a  manner,  the  fame  ihing;  feeing 
thefe  abufe  the  powers  of  the  body,  and  thofe 
the  powers  of  the  mind;  and  perchance  they 
may  have  fomewhat  of  wonder  in  them,  but 
little  or  no  utihty, 

As  for  the  art  of  memory,  that  is  built 
f)Ut  upon  two  intentions,  prenotion  and  em- 
blem : 


204  ON       MEMORY. 

blem :  we  call  prenotion  a  certain  limit  of 
vague  inveftigation  ;  for  when  a  man  endea* 
vours  to  recall  any  thing  to  memory,  if  he 
has  no  prenotion,  or  preconception  of  that  he 
feeks,  he  feeks,  indeed,  and  takes  abundance 
of  pains,    and  runs  up  and  down  this  way 
and  that  way,  as  in  a  maze  of  infinity  :   but 
if  he  has  any  certain  prenotion,  immediately 
the  infinity  is  cut  off,  and  the  memory  beats 
nearer  home;   like  the  hunting  of  a  fillow- 
deer  within  a  park.     Therefore  it  is  evident, 
that  method  helps  memory ;   for  there  is  a 
fecret  prenotion,  that  the  thing  fought  mufl 
have  a  congruity  with  method.     So  verfes 
are  more  eafily  got  by  heart  than  profe.    For 
if  a  man  hefitates  at  a  word,  prenotion  fug- 
gefts,  that  it  mufl   be  fuch  a  word  as  will 
{land  in  the  verfe  :  and  this  prenotion  is  the 
firfl  part  of  artificial  memory:    for  in   me- 
mory artificial  we  have  places  digefled  and 
provided  before-hand.     Images  we  make  ex- 
tempore^ according  to  the  prefent  occafion  : 
tut    there   is   a   fecret    prenotion,  that  the 
image  mufl  be  fuch  as  ha^  fome  refemblance 
with  the   place;   this  being  the  thing  that 
excites  the  memory,  and  in  fome  fort  makes 
w:ay  for  it  to  the  thing  we  are  in  fearch  of, 

EmblejvI 


ON       MEMORY.  205 

Emblem  reduces  conceits  intelledual,  to 
images  fenfible :  thefe  ftrike  the  memory 
more  forcibly,  and  are  more  eafily  imprinted 
there,  than  things  intelle£lual.  So  we  fee 
that  even  the  memory  of  brutes  is  fhirred  up 
by  a  fenfible  objed,  but  not  by  an  intellec- 
tual :  therefore  you  will  more  eafily  retain 
the  image  of  a  huntfman  purfuing  a  hare ; 
or  of  an  apothecary  fetting  in  order  his 
bottles;  or  of  a  pedant  making  a  fpeech;  or 
of  a  boy  reciting  verfes  by  heart ;  or  of  a 
droll  afting  upon  a  ftage;  than  the  bare 
notions  of  invention,  difpofition,  elocution, 
memory,  or  aftion.  There  are  other  things 
alfo  pertaining  to  the  help  of  memory  ;  but 
the  art  now  in  ufe  confifts  of  the  two  things 
now  premifed.  And  to  purfue  the  particu- 
lar defects  of  arts  would  be  to  depart  from 
our  propofed  method:  w^herefore  let  thus 
much  fuffice  for  the  art  of  retaining,  or  of 
cuftody. 


ON 


^o6  oK      RHETOR    tC, 


ON        RHETORIC;. 


T>  HETORIC,  or  oratory,  is  a  fcience  botti 
excellent  in  itfelf,  and  by  writers  ex- 
quifitely  improved.  Yet  eloquence,  if  a  man 
confiders  the  thing  truly  is,  without  doubt, 
inferior  to  wifdora.  For  we  fee  how  much 
this  furpaffes  that,  in  thofe  words  of  God  to 
Mofes^  when  he  refufed  the  charge  affigned 
him  for  want  of  elocution :  "  There  is 
*'  Aaron ^  he  fhall  be  to  thee  inflead  of  a 
**  mouth;  and  thou  flialt  be  to  him  inftead 
^'  of  God."  Yet  in  profit  and  popularefteem^ 
wifdom  gives  place  to  eloquence.  For  {a 
fays  Solomon:  *'  The  wife  in  heart  fhall  be 
"  called  prudent:  but  the  fweetnefs  of  the 
*'  lips  fhall  find  greater  things."  Prov.  xvio 
21.  Signifying  not  obfcurely,  that  pro- 
foundnefs  of  wifdom  will  help  a  man  to  a 
name,  or  admiration ;  but  that  it  is  eloquence 
w^hich  prevails  mofl  in  bufinefs,  and  in  com- 
mon life.  And  as  to  the  labouring  of  this 
art,  the  emulation  of  Ar'ijiotk^  with  the  rhe- 
toricians of  his  time;  and  the  earnefl  and 

vehement 


ON       RHETORIC.  207 

•vehement  diligence  of  Cicero,  endeavouring 
with  all  might  to  ennoble  it,  joined  with 
long  experience,  hath  made  them  in  their 
books,  on  this  fubjecSl:,  exceed  themfclves. 
Again,  thofe  mofl:  excellent  examples  of  elo- 
quence in  the  orations  of  Demojihenes  and 
Cicero,  added  to  the  acutenefs  of  the  precepts, 
have  doubled  the  progreffion  in  this  art ;  and 
therefore  the  deficiences  which  we  find  in  it 
will  rather  be  in  fome  coUedions,  which 
may  as  hand-maids  attend,  than  in  the  rules 
or  ule  of  the  art  itfelf. 

Notwithstanding,  to  flir  the  earth  a 
little  about  the  roots  of  this  fcience,  as  our 
fafhion  is,  furelj  rhetoric  is  fubfervient  to 
the  imagination,  as  logic  is  to  the  underftand- 
ing.  And  the  office  and  duty  of  rhetoric,  if 
a  man  enters  any  thing  deep  into  the  m^atter, 
is  no  other,  than  to  apply  and  commend  the 
dictates  of  reafon  to  the  imagination,  for  the 
better  moving  of  the  appetite  and  will.  For 
we  fee  reafon  is  attacked  and  diilurbed  in  her 
adminiflration  by  three  means;  either  by 
the  fallacy  of  fophifms,  which  belongs 
to  logic ;  or  by  the  enchantment  of  words, 
which  pertains  to  rhetoric ;  or  by  the  vio- 
lence 


2o8  ON      RHETORIC. 

lence  of  paflions,  which  pertains  to  morality,- 
For  as  in  negociation  with  others  a  man  ufes 
to  be  overcome  and  prevailed  upon,  either 
by  cunning,  by  importunity,  or  by  vehe- 
mence :  fo  alfo  in  that  inward  negociation, 
which  we  exercife  with  ourfelves,  we  are 
either  undermined  by  the  fallacies  of  argu- 
ments ;  or  folicited  and  difquieted  by  the 
afliduity  and  variety  of  impreffions  ;  or  fhaken 
and  tranfported  by  the  aflault  of  paflions. 
Neither  is  the  nature  of  man  fo  unfortunate, 
as  that  thofe  powers  and  arts  fhould  have 
force  to  dethrone  reafon,  and  not  to  flrength- 
en  and  eflablifh  it ;  nay,  much  more  do  they 
conduce  to  this  effect,  than  to  the  contrary. 
For  the  end  of  logic  is,  to  teach  a  form  of 
arguments,  to  fecure  reafon,  and  not  to  en- 
trap It.  Likewife  the  end  of  morality  is  to 
compofe  the  afFe6lions  in  fuch  manner,  that 
they  may  f  ght  for  reafon,  and  not  invade  it. 
Laltly,  the  end  of  rhetoric  is  to  fill  the  ima- 
gination with  objects  and  ideas,  to  fecond 
reafon,  not  to  opprefs  it :  for  the  abufes  of 
an  art  come  in  but  obliquely,  for  cautiouy 
not  for  ufe. 


It 


ON       RHETORIC.  ^69 

It  was  therefore  great  injuftice  In  PJato^ 
though  fpringhig  outof  a  juft  hatred  to  the 
rhetoricians  of  his  time,  to  place  rhetoric 
amongfl  the  arts  voluptuary  :  refembling  it 
to  cooker}-, wliich  did  fpoil  wholefome  meats, 
and  render  unwholefome  pleafant,  by  variety 
of  fauces.  For  we  fee  that  fpeech  is  mucff 
more  converfant  in  adorning  that  which  is 
good,  than  in  colouring  that  which  is  evil ; 
for  there  is  no  man  but  fpeaks  more  honeflly 
than  he  either  thinks  or  a£ls :  and  it  was 
excellently  noted  by  I'hucydides  in  Cleon^ 
"  That  becaufe  he  ufed  to  hold  on  the  bad 
*'  fide  in  caufes  of  flate,  therefore  he  was 
"  ever  inveighing  againft  eloquence  and 
"  good  fpeech  ;"  as  knowing  full  well,  that 
no  man  can  Ipeak  fair  of  courfes  fordid  and 
bafe;  but  can  of  honeft  ones  with  the  greateft 
eafe.  And  therefore  as  Plato  faid elegantly; 
"  That  virtue,  if  fhe  could  be  feen,  would 
*'  move  great  love  and  affedlion  :"  fo,  feeing 
file  cannot  be  fhe  wed  to  the  fenfe,  by  cor- 
poreal fhape,  the  next  degree  is,  to  fhew 
her  to  imagination  in  lively  reprefentation : 
for  to  (hew  her  to  reafon,  only  in  fubtilty 
of  argument,  was  a  thing  ever  derided  in 
Chryjippus^    and    many    of  the  Stoics,    who 

Vol.  II.  P  thought 


210  ON      RHETORIC, 

thought  to  obtrude  virtue  upon  men  by 
fharp  difputations  and  conclufions,  which 
have  no  fympathy  with  the  imagination  and 
will  of  man. 

Again,  if  the  afFe6lions  in  themfelves 
were  phant  and  obedient  to  reafon,  it  is 
true,  there  would  be  no  great  ufe  of  perfua- 
fion  and  infmuation  to  procure  accefs  to 
the  mind ;  for  it  would  be  fufficient  if  things 
were  nakedly  and  fimplypropofed  and  proved  : 
but  on  the  contrary,  the  affedlions  make 
fuch  mutinies  and  feditions,  according  to 
that: 

J^'idco  meVioya  probcqifCf 
Dctcriora  fcquor : 

That  reafon  would  be  entirely  led  away 
into  fervitude  and  captivity,  if  the  perfua- 
iions  of  eloquence  did  not  win  the  imagina- 
tion from  taking  part  with  the  affedions, 
and  contract  a  confederacy  between  reafon 
and  imagination  againft  the  aftedlions ;  for 
it  mull:  be  noted,  that  the  affections  of  them- 
felves are  ever  carried  to  good  apparent,  and 
in  this  refpedl  have  fomewhat  in  common 
with  reafon;  but  herein  they  differ:  That 

the 


ON       RHETORIC.  211 

the  aitecllons  behold  chiefly  good  prefent; 
butreafon,  lookmg  forward,  beholds  alfo 
that  which  is  future,  and  good  on  the  whole. 
And  therefore,  as  things  prefent  more  for- 
cibly fill  the  imagination,  reafon  commonly 
yields,  and  is  vanquifhed:  but  when  once 
eloquence  and  perfuafion  have  made  things 
future  and  remote  appear  as  adually  prefent, 
then,  upon  the  revolt  of  the  imagination  to 
the  fide  of  reafon,  reafon  prevails. 

We  conclude  therefore,  that  rhetoric  can 
be  no  more  charged  with  the  colouruig  of 
the  worfe  part,  than  logic  with  fophiftry, 
or  morality  with  vice.  For  who  does  not 
know,  that  the  dodrine  of  contraries  are  the 
fame,  though  the  ufe  be  oppofite  ?  Again, 
logic  differs  from  rhetoric,  not  only  in  this, 
that  the  former,  by  a  common  fimile,  is  like 
the  fift  ;  the  latter  like  the  palm ;  that  is, 
the  one  handles  things  clofely,  the  other  at 
large :  but  much  more  in  this,  that  lofflc 
confiders  reafon  in  its  natural  truth;  rhe- 
toric, as  it  is  planted  in  popular  opinions  and 
manners  :  and  therefore  Arijlotle  doth  wifely 
place  rhetoric  between  logic  on  the  one  fide, 
and  moral  or  civil  knowledge  on  the  other, 
P^  as 


MZ  ON      RHETORIC. 

as  participating  of  both  :  for  the  proofs  and 
demonftrations  of  logic  are  toward  all  men 
indifferent  and  the  fame ;  but  the  proofs  and 
perfuafions  of  rhetoric  ought  to  vary  accord- 
ing to  the  auditors ;  that  a  man  like  a  mufi- 
eian,  accommodating  himfelf  to  different 
ears,  may  become,  '■ 

Orpheus  in  Silvisy  inter  Delphi nas  j^rion. 

Which  kind  of  application  and  variance 
of  fpeech,  if  a  man  defires  the  perfection  and 
height  of  it,  ought  to  be  fo  far  extended, 
that  if  a  man  were  to  fpeak  the  fame  thing 
to  feveral  perfons,  he  fhould  fpeak  to  them 
all  refpe(^ively,  and  feveral  ways.  Though 
this  politic  part  of  eloquence  in  private  fpeech 
it  is  eafy  for  the  greateft  orators  to  want ; 
whilfl:  by  obferving  their  well  graced  forms 
of  fpeech,  they  lofe  that  volubility  of  appli- 
cation, and  chara6lers  of  difcourfe,  which 
in  difcretion  they  Ihould  ufe  towards  parti- 
cular perfons.  Certainly  it  would  not  be 
amifs  to  recommend  this,  of  which  we  are 
fpeaking,  to  better  enquiry,  and  to  call  it, 
**  The  wifdom  of  private  fpeech ;"  and  to 
refer  it  to  deficients  :  a  thing  furely,  which 
the  more  ferioufly  a  man  fhail  think  on,  the 

more 


ON       RHETORIC.  213 

more  highly  he  fhall  value.  And  whether 
this  (hould  be  placed  here,  or  in  that  part 
which  concerns  policy,  is  a  matter  of  no 
great  confequence. 

And  now  let  us  defcend  to  the  deficiencies 
of  this  art,  which,  as  I  faid,  are  of  fuch  a 
nature,  that  they  maybe  efteemed  rather  as 
appendages,  than  portions  of  the  art  itfelf ; 
and  pertain  all  to  the  promptuary  part,  for 
the  furniture  of  fpeech,  and  readinefs  of  in- 
vention. 

Colores  bom  ct  mali,  Jz*nplices  et  comparaii. 

First  then,  I  do  not  find  any  one  that 
has  well  purfued,  or  fupplied  the  wifdom 
and  diligence  too  of  Ariftotle.  He  began  to 
make  a  colledion  of  the  popular  figns  or 
colours  of  good  and  evil,  both  (imple  and 
comparative,  which  are  as  the  fophifms 
of  rhetoic.  They  are  of  excellent  ufe, 
efpecially  as  to  bufinefs,  and  the  wifdom 
of  private  fpeech :  but  the  labour  of 
Arijiotle^  concerning  thefe  colours,  is  three 
ways  deficient:  firft,  that  he  recites  but 
P  3  f«w 


2l\  ON       RHETORIC. 

few  of  many;  fecondly,  that  their  refutations 
are  not  annexed;  thirdly,  that  he  feems 
to  have  conceived  but  a  part  of  the  ufe  of 
them ;  for  their  ufe  is  not  more  in  probation, 
than  in  atTe6ting  and  moving.  For  many 
forms  of  fpeech,  which  are  equal  in  Signifi- 
cation, are  yet  different  in  impreflion.  For 
that  which  is  fharp,  pierces  fir  more  effec- 
tually than  that  which  is  blunt,  though  the 
flrength  of  the  percufhon  be  the  fame  :  for 
there  is  no  man  but  will  be  more  raifed  by 
hearing  it  faid,  "  Yourenemies  will  triumph 
*'  flrangely  at  this :" 

Hoc  Ithacus  vel'ity  et  magno  mercentur  Atr'ida : 

Than  by  hearing  it  barely  faid,  *'  This  will 
*'  prejudice  your  affairs."  Wherefore  thefe 
fharp-edged  and  quick-pointed  fpeeches  are 
by  no  means  to  be  negle(^ed. 

Secondly,  I  refume  alfo  that  which  I 
mentioned  before,  touching  provifion  or  pre- 
paratory flore,  for  the  furniture  of  fpeech, 
and  readinefs  of  invention,  which  appears 
to  be  of  two  forts :  the  one  in  refemblance 

to 


ON      RHETORIC.  215 

to  a  ihop  of  pieces  unmade  up;  the  other  to 
a  fhop  of  things  ready  made  up,  both  to  be 
apphed  to  that  which  is  frequent  and  moft 
in  requeft :  the  former  of  thefe  I  will  call 
anthheta,  and  the  htterformulije, 

Antithet  A  are  thefes  argued  p?'o  et  contra, 
wherein  men  may  be  more  large  and  labo- 
rious ;  but,  in  fuch  as  are  able  to  do  it,  to 
avoid  prolixity  of  entry,  1  wifh  the  feeds  of 
the  feveral  arguments  to  be  cafl  up  intofome 
brief  and  acute  fentences,  not  to  be  cited ;  but 
to  be  as  fcanes  or  bottoms  of  thread,  to  be 
unwinded  at  large  when  they  come  to  be 
ufed ;  fupplying  authorities  and  examples 
by  reference. 

Pro    Verbis    Legis. 

Kon  eji  interpretatio,  fed  drjinatio,  quae  recedit  a  litera. 
Cum  recedit  ur  a  liter  a  Judex  tranjit  in  legijlatorem. 

Pro    Sententia    Legis. 

Ex  omnibus  verbis  eJi  cliciendus  fcnfus^   qui  interpretatur 
fngula. 

Formulae  are  but  decent  and  aptpaflages 

or  conveyances  of  fpcech,  wliich  may  ferve 

P4  in^ 


a|6  ON      RHETORIC, 

indifFerently  for  different  fubjedls;  as  of 
preface,  coiiclufion,  digreffion,  tranfition, 
excufation,  &c.  For  as  in  buildings  there 
is  great  pleafure  and  ufe  in  the  well  cafting 
of  the  ftair-cafes,  entries,  doors,  windows, 
and  the  like :  fo  in  fpeech,  the  conveyances 
and  paffages  are  of  fpecial  ornament  and 
effeft. 

A  Conclusion  in  a  Deliberative. 

So  may  ive  redeem  the  faults  pajjed^  and  prevent  the  incon- 
veniences in  future. 


On 


ON  CRITICAL  KNOWLEDGE,    &C.        2l7 


On      critical 


AND 


PEDANTICAL    KNOWLEDGE, 


'T^HERE  remains  two  general  appendages 
touching  the  tradition  of  knowledge: 
the  one  critical ;  the  other  pedantical.  For 
as  the  principal  part  of  tradition  of  know- 
ledge confifts  in  writing  of  books;  fo  the 
relative  part  thereof  confifts  in  reading  of 
books.  Now  reading  is  governed  and  di- 
re6led  by  mafters  and  teachers,  or  perfected 
by  every  man's  particular  induftry:  and  to 
this  purpofe  ferve  the  two  forts  of  know- 
ledge mentioned,  whereunto  appertain  inci- 
dently  thofe  confiderations. 

To  the  critical  part  appertain,  firft,  an  exa£t 
corre6tion,  and  true  edition  of  approved  au- 
thors ;  whereby  both  the  honour  of  authors 
themfelves  is  vindicated,  and  a  light  given 

to 


2l8  ON    CRITICAL    AND 

to  the  ftudious :  in  which,  however,  the  rafh 
dihgence  of  Ibme  men  has  done  great  preju- 
dice to  fludies.  For  it  is  the  manner  of  many 
critics,  when  they  meet  with  a  paflage  they  do 
not  underftand  prefently,  to  prefume  it  a  fault 
in  the  copy :  as  the  prieft  that,  where  he 
found  it  written  of  St.  Paid,  Demijfus  ejl  per 
fportam,  mended  his  book,  and  made  it,  De- 
mijfus eft  per  portam^  becaufe  fporia  was  an 
hard  word,  and  out  of  his  reading;  and, 
iurely,  their  errors,  though  they  are  not  fo 
palpable  and  ridiculous,  yet  are  of  the  fame 
•kind :  as  in  that  paflage  of  T'acitus :  when  a 
certain  colony  claimed  the  privilege  of  the 
fandluary  in  the  fen  ate,  Tacitus  reports,  that 
what  they  aliedged  was  not  favourably  re- 
ceived by  the  emperor  and  the  fenate:  upon 
which  the  ambalTadors,  diftrufting  their 
caufe,  gave  Titus  Finius  a  round  fum  of 
money  to  maintain  their  fuit ;  and  by  this 
means  the  thing  was  granted:  "  Then,'* 
fays  Tacitus,  "  the  dignity  and  antiquity  of 
"  the  colony  prevailed  :"  as  if  the  arguments, 
that  feemed  light  before,  received  then  a 
new  weight  by  the  addition  of  a  bribe.  Here 
a  certain  critic,  none  of  the  meanefl:,  ex- 
punges the  word  tum^  and  inftead  thereof 

rellores 


PEDANTICAL    KNOWLEDGE.  219 

reftores  tantum.  And  by  this  perverfe  cuflom 
of  critics,  it  has  come  to  pafs,  as  one  wifely 
noted,  "  That  the  moft  corrected  copies  are 
*'  commonly  leall:  correal."  And  indeed, 
to  fpeak  truth,  iinlefs  the  critics  are  well 
ikilled  in  the  fubjeds  handled  in  the  books 
they  put  out,  their  diligence  is  not  without 
danger. 

Secondly,  There  belongs  to  the  critical 
art,  the  interpretation  and  expofition  of  au- 
thors, commentaries,  fcholias,  notes,  felec- 
tions,  and  the  like.  And  in  labours  of  this 
kind,  that  contagious  difeafe  of  critics  hath 
feized  many,  of  paiFmg  over  moft  of  the  ob- 
fcurer  pafl'ages,  and  dwelling  and  expatiating 
even  to  naufeoufnefs  upon  things  that  are 
plain  and  perfpicuous.  For  the  thing  in- 
tended is  not  fo  much  to  illuftrate  the  au- 
thor, as  that  the  critic  himfelf,  upon  every 
occalion,  may  fhew  his  manifold  learning, 
and  various  reading.  It  were  much  to  be 
wifhed,  that  the  writer  who  handles  obfcure 
and  noble  arguments,  would  annex  his  own 
explications ;  that  neither  the  text  itfelf  may 
be  broken  off  by  digreflions  or  explanations  ; 
and  that  the  notes  may  not  depart  from  the 

mind 


220  ON    CRITICAL    AND 

mind   and  intention   in  the   writer.     Some 
fuch  thing  we  fufp.ecl  of  I'heon  upon  Euclid, 

The  third  is  concerning  the  times,  which, 
in  many  cafes,  give  great  light  to  true  in- 
terpretations. 

The  fourth  is  concerning  the  fyntax  and 
difpofitlon  of  ftudies,  that  men  may  know 
in  what  order  or  purfuit  to  read. 

FiF-TKLY,  it  belongs  to  the  critical  art, 
from  whence  alfo  it  had  its  name,  to  inter- 
pofe  fome  brief  cenfure  and  judgment  of  the 
authors  they  publifh  ;  and  to  compare  them 
with  other  writers  that  handle  the  fame  fub- 
je6ls;  to  the  end  that  by  fuch  a  cenfure 
fludents  may  be  both  advertifed  of  the  choice 
of  books,  and  come  better  provided  to  the 
perufal  of  them.  And  this  laftpart  is,  as  it 
were,  the  chair  of  the  critics,  which  certainly 
has  been  ennobled  by  fome  great  men  in  our 
age;  greater,  furely,  in  my  judgment,  than 
for  the  model  of  critics. 

For  pedantical  knowledge,  it  contains 
that  difference  of  tradition  which  is  proper 

for 


PEDANTICAL    KNOWLEDGE,  22l 

for  youth  ;  in  which  point  it  were  foon  faid, 
"  Confult  the  fchools  of  the  Jefnits  \'*  for 
nothing  that  has  come  into  ufe  and  practice 
can  be  better  than  they  are.  However  we 
will,  according  to  our  fafhion,  fuggefl  a  few 
things  after  the  manner  of  gleaners.  We  do 
by  all  means  approve  a  collegiate  education 
of  childhood  and  youth ;  not  in  private  hou- 
fes,  nor  under  fchool-mafters  only.  In  col- 
leges there  is  a  greater  emulation  towards 
their  equals ;  befides,  there  is  the  counte- 
nance and  afpedl  of  grave  men,  which  very 
thing  contributes  to  modefly,  and  fafhions 
tender  minds  even  from  the  beginning  to  a 
pattern  :  in  fine,  there  are  advantages  in 
abundance  of  a  collegiate  education. 

For  the  order  and  manner  of  difcipline, 
this  I  would  principally  advife,  that  they 
beware  of  abridgements,  and  too  great  for- 
warding in  learning,  which  renders  wits  bold 
and  confident,  and  makes  rather  a  fliew  of 
great  proficiency,  than  efFccls  it. 

Furthermore,  fome  indulgence  fliould 

be  given  to  the  liberty  of  wits ;    fb  that   if 

anyone  performs  the  talks  which  the  difci- 

I  pline 


22.2  ON    CRITICAL    AND 

pllne  of  the  place  requires,  and  yet  flcal^ 
time  for  other  things  to  which  he  is  inchnedj 
he  may  not  be  retrained. 

Again,  it  may  be  worth  while  carefully 
to  confider,  which  perhaps  hitherto  has  not 
been  noted,  that  there  are  two  ways,  and 
thofe  as  it  were  diametrically  oppofite,  of 
training  up,  exercifmg,  and  preparing  the 
genius.  The  one  begins  with  the  eafieft 
things,  and  by  degrees  leads  to  the  more 
difficult :  the  other,  at  firft,  commands  and 
preffes  the  more  difficult,  that  thefe  being 
maftered  he  may  go  through  the  eafier  with 
the  more  delight.  For  it  is  one  method  to 
learn  to  fwim  with  bladders,  which  hold  up, 
and  another  to  learn  to  dance  with  heavy 
fhoes,  which  prefs  down.  And  it  is  not  eafy 
to  exprefs  how  much  a  prudent  intermixture 
of  thefe  methods  conduces  to  the  advancing 
the  faculties  both  of  mind  and  body. 

Another  confideration  is,  the  application 
of  learning,  according  to  the  propriety  of 
the  genius  ;  for  there  is  no  defeat  in  the 
intellectual  faculties,  but  feems  to  have  a 
proper  cure  contained  in  fome  fludies  :  as  for 

example. 


PEDANTICAL    KNOWLEDGE.  223 

example,  if  a  child  be  giddy,  that  is,  hath 
not  the  faculty  of  attention,  the  mathema- 
tics give  a  remedy  thereunto;  for  in  them, 
if  the  mind  be  diverted  for  a  moment,  one 
is  to  begin  a-new.  And  as  fciences  have  a 
propriety  tov/ards  faculties  for  cure  and  help  ; 
fo  faculties  or  powers  have  a  fympathy  to- 
wards fciences  for  excellency  or  fpeedy  pro* 
fiting ;  and  therefore  it  is  an  enquiry  of  great 
wifdom,  what  kind  of  wits  and  natures  are 
moil:  apt  and  proper  for  refpeclive  fciences. 

Furthermore,  in  the  courfe  of  teac^iing, 
excrcifes  have  a  mighty  flroke  to  hurt  or 
help :  but  there  is  a  point  here  that  has  been 
noted  by  few ;  whicli  is,  that  there  ought 
to  be  not  only  a  wife  ordering  of  exercifes, 
but  a  wife  intermiffion  of  them  alfo.  For 
Cicero  has  an  excellent  obfervation :  "  That 
"  in  exercifes  it  often  happens,  that  men 
"  exercife  their  faults,  as  well  as  their  fa- 
*'  culties  :"  fo  that  an  ill  habit  is  fometimes 
got  at  the  lame  time,  and  iniinuates  itfelf 
together  with  a  good  one.  Wherefore  it  is 
a  fafer  way  to  intermit  exercifes,  and  to  re- 
peat them  every  foot,  than  incefiantly  to 
continue  and  purfue  them. 

It 


224  OJ^   CRITICAL    AND 

It  were  long  to  particukrife  a  number  of 
other  confiderations  of  this  nature,  thmgs 
but  of  mean  appearance,  though  of  fingular 
efficacy :  for  as  m  plants,  the  hurting  or 
cherifhing  of  them  while  they  are  young  is 
a  matter  of  the  greateft  importance  towards 
their  thriving  or  mifcarrying;  and  as  the 
immenfe  greatnefs  of  the  Roman  empire  is 
by  fome  defervedly  attributed  to  the  virtue 
and  wiidom  of  thefe  fix  kings,  who  were  as 
tutors  or  fofter- fathers  to  it  in  its  infancy: 
fo  furely,  the  culture  and  manuring  of  minds 
in  youth,  has  fuch  a  forcible,  though  unfeen 
operation,  as  hardly  any  length  of  time,  or 
contention  of  labour,  can  countervail  after- 
wards. And  it  is  not  amifs  to  obferve  alfo, 
that  even  fmall  and  mean  faculties,  if  they 
fall  into  great  men,  or  great  matters,  do 
work  great  and  important  efFe6ls.  Of  this 
we  will  fet  down  a  memorable  example; 
which  we  bring  the  rather,  becaufe  the  Je- 
fuits  themfelves  fecm  not  to  defpife  this  kind 
of  difcipline  ;  and  upon  found  judgment,  in 
my  opinion.  And  it  is  a  matter  which,  if  it 
be  made  a  trade,  is  dlfreputable  ;  if  a  part 
of  difcipline,  excellent.  We  mean  theatri- 
cal action;    as  that  which  ftrengthens  the 

memory, 


I 


i'EDANtlCAL    KNdlVLEDGE.  225 

memory,    moderates  the  tone  and  emphafis 
of  the  voice  and  pronounciatlon,  compofes 
the  countenance  and  carriage  to  a  decorum, 
gives  a  good  affurance ;  and,  in  fine,  inures 
youth  to  the  faces  of  men.     The  example 
fhall  be  from  "Tmtus,   of  one  Fibulenus,   for- 
merly an  aa:or,   but  at  that  time  a  foldier  in 
the  Pamtonian  legions.     This   fellow,    upon 
the  death  of  Jugujlus,   had  raifed  a  mutiny, 
fo  that  Blcefus,    the  lieutenant,    committed 
fome  of  the  mutineers  :   but  the  foldiers  by 
violence  broke  open  the  prifons  and  refcued 
them  :  whereupon  Vihuknus  got  to  be  heard> 
and  began  his  harangue  to  the  foldiers  in 
this    manner:     "  To   thefe   poor  innocent 
"  wretches  you  have  reftored  indeed   light 
*'  and  life  :  but  who  reftores  life  to  my  bro- 
*'  ther;  who,  my  brother  to  me  ?  That  was 
"  fent  unto  you  in  meffage  from  the  German 
''  army,  to  treat  of  the  common  caufe,  and 
*'  he  hath  murdered  him  this  laft  night  by 
*'  fome  of  his  fencers  and  ruffians,  that  he 
*'  has  about  him,  ready  armed  for  his  exe- 
"  cutions  upon   foldiers.       Anfwer  Bla>fusy 
"  where  have  you  thrown  his  body  ?     The 
•'  moil  mortal  enemies  do  not  grudge  burial. 
Vol.  II.  n  **  ^Vh^^^ 


226       ON   CRITICAL  KNOWLEDGE,   &C. 

«*  When  I  have  glutted  my  grief  with  k'lf- 
*'  ling,  and  weeping  over  the  corpfe,  com- 
**  mand  me  alfo  to  be  murdered ;  fo  that 
*'  thefe  our  fellow-foldiers  have  leave  to 
**  bury  us,  {lain  for  no  offence,  but  for  our 
*'  good  meaning,  and  our  true  hearts  to  the 
*'  legions."  With  which  fpeech  he  put  the 
army  into  an  infinite  fury  and  uproar ;  to 
fuch  a  degree,  that  unlefs  it  had  foon  after 
appeared  that  there  was  no  truth  in  this,  and 
that  he  never  had  a  brother,  the  foldiers 
would  have  gone  near  to  have  laid  violent 
hands  upon  the  lieutenant.  But  it  was  mere 
ading  in  him,  as  if  he  had  played  a  part 
upon  the  ftage. 


Di^ 


on  moral  knowledge,         227 

On   moral  knowledge. 
THE     DOCTRINE 

O    F      T   H    E 

IMAGE       OF       GOOD, 


"TTTE  are  now  come  to  moral  knowledge, 
which  confiders  the  will  of  man« 
Right  reafon  governs  the  will,  good  appa- 
rent feduces  it.  The  fpurs  of  the  will  are 
the  afFedions ;  her  minifters,  the  organs  and 
voluntary  motions.  Of  this  faculty  Solomon 
fays :  "  Above  all  keepings,  keep  thy  heart ; 
*'  for  out  of  it  iffue  the  adlions  of  life." 
Prov.  iv.  23.  In  handling  this  fcience,  they 
who  have  written  of  it,  feem  to  me  to  have 
done,  as  if  a  man,  who  profefTed  to  teach 
writing,  fhould  only  exhibit  fair  copies  of  al- 
phabets, and  letters  joined,  without  giving 
any  precepts  or  diredlions  for  the  carriage  of 
0^2  the 


22S  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE, 

the  hand,  and  frammg  of  the  letters:  fo 
have  they  exhibited  beautiful  copies,  and 
accurate  draughts  or  portraitures  of  good, 
virtue,  duty,  felicity,  as  the  true  obje<^s 
and  fcopes  of  man's  will  and  defires;  but 
how  to  take  a  juftlevel  at  thefe  marks,  placed 
by  them  in  the  fairefl:  point  of  view;  that  is, 
by  what  methods  and  directions  the  mind 
may  be  fubdued  and  framed  to  become  true 
and  conformable  to  thefe  purfuits ;  this  they 
pafs  over  altogether,  or  perform  it  (lightly 
and  tinprofitably.  For  it  is  not  the  arguing 
that  moral  virtues  are  in  the  mind  of  man 
by  habit,  and  not  by  nature ;  or  formally 
diftinguifhing,  that  generous  fpirits  are  won 
by  dodrines  and  perfuafions,  and  the  vulgar 
by  reward  and  punifliment ;  or  the  ingenious 
precept,  that  to  redlify  the  mind  of  man  ^ 
it  mufl,  like  a  ftaff,  be  bent  the  contrary  way 
to  its  inclination ;  and  the  like  fcattered 
glances  and  touches,  that  can  excufe  the  ab- 
fence  of  this  part. 

The  reafon  of  this  omiflion  I  fuppofe  to 
be  no  other,  than  that  hidden  rock,  on 
which  this,  and  many  other  barks  of  know- 
ledge, have  been  cail  away ;  which  is,  that 
^  writers 


ON    MORAL     KNOWLEDGE.  22^ 

Avriters  defplfe  to  be  coiiverfant  in  ordinary 
and  common  matters,  which  are  neither 
fubtile  enough  for  difputation,  nor  rich 
enough  for  ornament.  Verily,  it  cannot  ea- 
sily be  expreffed,  what  a  calamity  this  very 
thing  we  fpeak  of  has  brought  upon  fcience; 
that  men,  out  of  an  inbred  pride  and  vain- 
glory, have  made  choice  of  fuch  fubje6ls, 
and  of  fuch  a  method  and  manner  of  handling 
them,  as  may  fet  ofFtheir  wit,  rather  than 
conduce  to  the  reader's  profit.  But  here 
Seneca  gives  an  excellent  check  :  Nocet  illis 
eloquentia,  quibus  non  rcrum  cupldltatem  facity 
fed  Jul:  Dodrines  ihould  be  fuch  as  fhould 
make  men  admire  their  juftnefs  and  utility, 
and  not  the  author  :  being  directed  to  the 
auditor's  benefit,  and  not  to  the  author's 
commendation.  Therefore  they  take  a  right 
courfe  who  can  vouch  that  of  their  counfels, 
which  Demofthenes  did,  and  conclude  them 
with  this  claufe:  "  Which  things  if  you 
**  put  in  execution,  you  will  not  only  com- 
"  mend  your  orator  at  prefent,  but  your- 
**  felves  likewife  not  long  after,  by  reafoii 
*'  of  a  more  profperous  flate  of  your  af- 
*'  fairs." 

0^3  To 


2^0  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

To  fpeak  truth  of  myfelf,  both   in  the 
works  I  now  p\ibll(h,  and  in  thofe  I  think 
of  hereafter,  I  have  often  willingly  thrown 
lip  the  glory  of  my  own  wit  and  name,  if  I 
am  entitled  to  any,  while  I  fludy  to  advance 
the  good  and  profit  of  mankind  :  and  I  that 
have  merited  to  be  an  architect  perhaps  in 
philofophy  and  the  fciences,    am  made  even 
a  labourer  and  a  drudge,  and  any  thing  in 
ihort;    while  I  fuflain  and  execute  myfelf 
many  things,  which  muft  of  neceffity   be 
done,  but  which  others,  from  an  mnate  pride, 
fhift  off  from  themfelves.      But  to  return 
to  the  matter  in  hand,  I  was  obferving,  phi- 
lofophers  in  moral  fcience  hav-e  chofen  to 
themfelves  a  certain  refplendent  and  illuftri- 
ous  mafs  of  matter,  to  give  glory  either  to 
the  fubtilty  of  their  wit,  or  to  the  vigour  of 
their  eloquence  ;  butfuch  precepts  as  chiefly 
dired  the  pradice  in  life,  which  confifls  not 
in  novelties  or  fubtleties,   they  have  for  the 
mofl  part  omitted. 

Neither  ought  men  of  fuch  excellent 

parts  to  have  defpaired  of  a  fortune  like  that 

which  th:  poet  Fi/gi:  promifed  himfelf,  and 

indeed  obtained  ;  who  got  as  much  glory  of 

^  elo^uence^ 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  23 1 

eloquence,  wit,  and  learning  in  exprefling 
his  obfervations  ofhufbandry,  as  in  relating 
the  heroical  a<fls  of  Eneas: 


Necfum  anim'i  dnblus  z^erbls  ea  vhicere  magnum 
^amfit,  et  angujTis  hunc  adder  e  rebus  honor  em. 

Georg.  Ill,  289. 

*'  Nor  can  I  doubt  what  oil  I  muft  beflow 
*•  To  raife  my  fubjeft  from  a  ground  fo  low  : 
*'  And  the  mean  matter  which  my  tlieme  affords 
»'  To  embellifh  with  magnificence  of  words." 

Dryden. 

And  fiirely,  if  authors  meant  in  good 
earneft  not  to  write  at  leifure,  that  which 
men  may  read  at  leifure,  but  really  to  in- 
ftrud  and  be  affifting  to  aftive  life ;  thefe 
G^orgics,  that  is,  this  huibandryand  tillage 
of  the  mind  of  man,  ought  to  be  in  as  much 
efteem  with  men,  as  thofe  heroical  defcrip- 
tions  of  virtue,  good,  and  felicity,  whereon 
fo  much  labour  and  cofl  has  been  beflowed. 


We  will  therefore  divide  moral  philofo- 

phy  into  two  fundamental  and  principal  doc- 

trnies :  the  one  concerning  the  exemplar  or 

image  of  good;  the  other  -  concerning  the 

0^4  re- 


Z^Z  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

regimen  or  culture  of  the  mind,  which  part 
we  are  w-ont  to  call  the  georgics  of  the  mind : 
that  defcribes  the  nature  of  good ;  ^his  pre- 
fcribes  rules  how  to  fubdue,  apply,  and  ac- 
commodate the  will  of  man  to  it. 

'  The  do£lrine  touching  the  exemplar, 
which  refpedls  and  defcribes  the  nature  of 
good,  coniiders  good,  either  funple  or  com- 
pared: that  is,  the  kinds  of  good  or  the 
degrees  of  it.  In  the  latter  of  thefe,  the 
infinite  difputations  and  fpeculations  touch- 
ing the  fupreme  degree  of  good,  which  they 
termed  felicity,  beatitude,  or  the  highefl 
good,  the  dodlrines  which  conftitute  the 
heathen  divinity,  are  by  the  Chriflian  faith 
taken  away  and  difcharged.  For  as  j^rijlotle 
fays,  "  That  young  men  may  be  happy, 
**  but  no  otherwife  than  by  hope:"  fomufh 
we  all,  being  fo  taught  by  the  Chriftian 
faith,  acknowledge  ourfelves  to  be  but  chil- 
dren and  minors,  and  think  of  no  other  fe- 
licity than  that  which  is  in  hope  of  the 
future  world. 

I^REED,  therefore,  and  delivered  from  that 
^oftrineof  the.philofopher's  heaven,  in  which 

doubt" 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  233 

dcubtlefs  they  attributed  to  man's  nature  a 
higher  elevation  than  it  was  capable  of;  for 
we  fee  in  what  a  height  of  ftile  Seneca  writes : 
*'  It  is  truly  great  to  have  the  frailty  of  a 
*'  man,  and  the  fecurlty  of  a  God:"  we 
may  certainly  with  more  fobriety  and  truth 
receive  the  reft  of  their  enquiries  and  labours, 
concerning  the  doarine  of  the  exemplar  or 
platform.  For  as  concerning  the  nature  of 
pofitive  and  fimpl.e  good,  they  have  drawn 
it  admirably,  in  defcribing  the  forms  of  vir- 
tue and  duty,  with  their  fituations  and  pof- 
tures,  in  diftributing  them  into  their  kinds, 
parts,  provinces,  adions,  and  adminiftra- 
tions,  and  the  like:  nay  further,  they  have 
commended  them  to  man's  nature  and  fpirit 
with  great  force  of  argument,  and  beauty 
ofperfuafion;  yea,  fortified  and  entrenched 
them,  as  much  as  difcourfe  can  do,  againft 
corrupt  and  popular  opinions.  Again,  for 
the  degrees  and  comparative  nature  of  good, 
they  have  excellently  handled  this  alio  in 
their  triplicity  of  good  ;  in  the  comparifons 
between  a  contemplative  and  a£live  life;  in 
the  diftindion  between  virtue  in  trial,  and 
virtue  fecured  and  confirmed ;  in  the  con- 
tefts  between  honefty  ^nd  intereft ;  in  the 

balancing 


234  O^'    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

balancing  of  virtue  with  virtue,  to  fee  which 
out-weighs  the  other;  and  the  like.  So  that 
this  part  touching  the  platform  I  find  excel- 
lently laboured,  and  that  the  ancients  herein 
liave Ihewed  themfelves  admirable  men:  yet 
fo,  that  the  philofophers  have  been  far  out- 
gone by  the  pious  and  painful  diligence  of 
divines,  in  weighing  and  determining  duties, 
moral  virtues,  cafes  of  confcience,  and.  the 
bounds  and  limits  of  fm. 

If  philofophers,  Iiowever,  before  they  had 
come  to  the  popular  and  received  notions  of 
virtue  and  vice,  pleafure  and  pain,  and  fo 
forth,  had  ftaid  a  little  longer  upon  the  en- 
quiry concerning  the  roots  of  good  and  evil, 
and  the  fibres  of  thofe  roots,  they  had  given, 
in  my  opinion,  a  great  light  to  ail  that  which 
might  fall  into  enquiry  afterwards :  above 
all,  if  they  had  confulted  as  well  the  nature 
of  things,  as  the  axioms  of  morality,  they 
had  made  their  doclrines  lefs  prolix,  and 
rnore  profound  ;  which  being  by  them  in 
part  omitted,  and  in  part  handled  with  much 
eonfufion,  we  will  briefly  re-examine,  and 
endeavour  to  open  and  clear  the  very  fprings 
of  morality,  before  we  come  to  the  do^lrine 

of 


ON    MORAL   KNOWLEDGE.  235 

of  the  culture  of  the  mind,  which  we  fet 
down  as  deficient;  for  this,  in  my  judg^ 
ment, will  give  the  doflrine  of  the  platform, 
a  kind  of  new  life  and  fpirit. 

There    is   inbred  and   imprinted  upon 
every  thing  an  appetite  to  good  of  a  double 
nature :  the  one,  as  a  Vv'hole  in  itfelf ;  the 
other,  as  a  part  or  member  of  fome  greater 
whole,    x^nd  this  latter  is  worthier  and  more 
excellent  than  that  other,  becaufe  it  tends  to 
the   confervatlon   of  a  more  ample    body. 
The  firfl   may  be   called  individual  or  felf- 
good  ;  the  latter  the  good  of  communion. 
The  iron  by  particular  fympathy  moves  to 
the  load-ftone:  but  yet   if  it  exceeds  a  cer- 
tain quantity,   it  forfakes  the  affedion  to  the 
load-ftone,  and,  like  a  good  citizen  and  true 
patriot,  moves  to  the  earth,  the  region  and 
country  of  its  connaturals.     To  proceed  a 
little  further  :  water  and  mafly  bodies  move 
to  the  center  of  the  earth,  to  the  great  con- 
gregation of  clofe  compa6led   bodies;    yet, 
rather  than  to  fuffer  a  divulfion  in  the  conti- 
nuance of  nature,  and  that  there  fhould  be, 
^s  they  talk,  a  vacuum,    thefe  bodies  will 
move  upwards  from  the  center  of  the  earth, 

for- 


236  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE, 

forfaking  their  duty  to  it,  that  they  may 
perform  the  general  duty  they  owe  to 
the  world :  fo  is  it  ever  feen,  that  the  con- 
fervation  of  the  more  general  and  public 
form,  commands  and  governs  the  lefler  and 
more  particular  appetites  and  inclinations. 
But  this  prerogative  of  the  good  of  commu- 
nity is  efpecially  engraven  upon  man,  if  he 
degenerate  not,  according  to  that  memorable 
fpeech  of  Pompey  the  Great ;  who,  being 
commiffioned  for  the  importation  of  corn, 
when  there  was  a  famine  at  Rome,  and  being 
dilTuaded  with  great  vehemence  by  his  friends 
that  he  would  not  hazard  himfelf  to  fea  in 
extremity  of  weather,  made  this  anfwer  only : 
*'  There  is  a  necellity  for  my  going,  but  no 
*'  neceflity  for  my  living.*'  So  that  the 
defire  of  life,  which  in  every  individual  is 
fo  predominant,  did  not  out-balance  in  him 
the  love  and  allegiance  to  the  republic.  But 
why  do  we  dwell  upon  this  point  ?  There 
was  never  found,  in  any  age  of  the  world, 
cither  philofophy,  or  fedt,  or  religion,  or 
law,  or  difcipline,  which  did  fo  highly  exalt 
the  good  of  communion,  and  deprefs  good, 
private  and  particular,  as  the  holy  Chriflian 
faith  ;  whence  it  clearly  appears,  that  it  was 

one 


ON   MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  237 

©ne  and  the  fame  God  that  gave  the  Chrlflian 
law  to  men,  who  gave  thole  laws  of  nature 
to  the  creatures.  Wherefore  w^e  read,  that 
fome  of  the  ele£l  faints  have  wifhed  them- 
felves  anathematized  and  erafed  out  of  the 
book  of  Hfe,  rather  than  their  brethren 
ihould  not  attain  fah-ation,  in  an  extacy  of 
charity,  and  an  infinite  defire  of  the  good  of 
communion.     Rom.  ix. 

This  being  laid  down  as  an  immoveable 
unfhaken  pofition,  puts  an  end  to  fome  of 
the  mofl  weighty  controverfies  in  moral 
philofophy:  for  firft,  it  determines  that 
queflion  concerning  the  preference  of  the 
contemplative  to  the  aftive  life;  and  that, 
againft  the  opinion  0I  Arifiotk,  For"  all  the 
reafons  which  he  brings  for  the  contempla- 
tive life,  refpea  private  good,  and  the  plea- 
lure  and  dignity  of  a  man*s  felf  only ;  in 
which  refpeds,  no  doubt,  the  contempla- 
tive life  has  the  pre-eminence:  for  the 
contemplative  life  is  not  much  unhke  that 
comparifon  which  Pythagoras  made  for  the 
gracing  and  magnifying  of  philofophy  and 
contemplation:  who  being  alked  by  Hkro 
w^iathcwas;  arfwered:  '*  That  i:/V^r^ knew 
2  <«  vvell 


13S  ON  Moral  knowledge;. 

*«  weJ^j  if  he  had  ever  been  at  the  Olym-* 
*'  fian  games,  the  manner  there  is,  that 
*'  feme  come  to  try  their  fortunes  for  the 
*'  prizes;  others,  as  merchants,  to  vend 
«*  their  commodities;  and  fome  to  meet  their 
'*  friends,  to  make  good  cheer,  and  be 
''  m.erry ;  ethers  came  to  look  on :  and 
*'  that  he  was  one  of  them  that  came  for 
"  that  purpofe."  But  men  fhould  know,  that 
-in  this  theatre  of  human  Hfe,  it  is  fit  only 
for  God  and  angels  to  be  lookers  on.  Nei- 
ther could  any  doubt,  touching  this  point, 
have  arifen  in  the  church  from  this  paffage, 
*'  Precious  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  is  the 
*'  death  of  his  faints,'*  by  which  they  exalt 
their  civil  death  and  regular  profeffion,  ex- 
cept upon  this  fuppofition,  that  the  monadic 
life  is  not  fimply  contemplative,  but  alto- 
gether converfant  in  ecclefiaftical  duties ;  as 
inceffant  prayer ;  facrifices  of  vows  offered 
to  God  ;  writing  alfo  theological  books,  for 
the  propagating  the  doctrine  of  the  divine 
law,  as  Mofes  did,  when  he  abode  fo  many 
davs  in  his  retirement  upon  the  mount.  And 
fo  Enoch,  the  feventh  from  Adam,  who  feems 
to  have  been  the  firfl  founder  of  the  contem- 
plative life  ;  for  he  is  faid  to  have  "  walked 

<«  with 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  239 


*'  with  God;"  yet  endowed  the  church'with 
a  book  of  prophecy,  which  is  alfo  cited  by 
St.  Jude.  But  for  mere  contemplation,  ter- 
minated in  itfelf,  and  which  cafts  no  beams 
of  heat  or  light  upon  human  fociety,  af- 
furedly  divinity  knows  it  not. 

It  decides  alfo  the  queftion,  controverted 
with  fuch  heat,  between  the  fchools  of  Zejjo 
and  Socrates,  on  the  one  fide;  who  placed 
felicity  in  virtue,  either  iimple  or  adorned, 
with  other  goods,  which  virtue  has  ahvays 
had  a  principal  fhare  in  the  duties  of  Hfe, 
and  feveral  other  feds  and  fchools,  on  the 
other  fide,  as  the  fchools  of  the  Cyrenaicks 
and  Epicureans,  who  placed  it  in  pleafure, 
and  made  virtue  to  be  but  as  an  hand- maid, 
without  which,  pleafure  conld  not  be  welt 
ferved  and  waited  upon;  as  alfo  the  other 
reformed  fchool  of  Epicums,  which  aflerted 
felicity  to  be  nothing  elfe  but  a  tranquillity 
and  ferenity  of  mind,  free  and  void  of  all 
perturbations;  as  if  they  intended  to  de- 
throne Jupltery  and  rcftoi-e  Saturn  with  the 
the  golden  age,  when  there  was  neither 
fummer,  winter,  fpring,  nor  autumn,  but 
one  fcrene  air  and  feafon  :  laftly,  the  ex- 
ploded 


240  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE* 

ploded  fchool  of  Pyrrho  and  Herillus,  who 
placed  felicity  in  an  utter  extinction  and 
exemption  of  all  fcruples  and  dlfputes  of 
mind,  making  no  fixed  and  conftant  nature 
of  good  and  evil,  but  efleeming  a6lions  good 
or  evil,  according  as  tjiey  proceeded  from 
the  mind,  with  a  clear  and  undifturbed  mo- 
tion, or,  on  the  contrary,  with  averfion  and 
reluctance ;  which  opinion  has  been  revived 
in  the  herely  of  the  Anabaptifts,  who  mea- 
fured  all  things  according  to  the  motions  and 
inflinCls  of  the  fpirit,  and  the  conftancy  or 
wavering  of  belief.  But  it  is  manifeft,  that 
all  this,  which  we  have  recited,  tends  to  pri- 
vate repofe,  and  complacency  of  mind,  and 
no  way  to  fociety  and  the  good  of  the 
community. 

Again,  it  cenfures  alfo  the  phllofophy 
of  Epi&etus,  who  prefuppofes  this :  that  fe- 
licity muft  be  placed  in  thofe  things  which 
are  in  our  own  power ;  left  otherwife,  we 
fhould  be  liable  to  fortune  and  accidents :  as 
if  it  did  produce  more  happinefs  to  fall  of 
fuccefs,  and  to  be  fruftrated,  in  worthy  and 
generous  intentions  and  ends  for  public  good, 
than  always  to  have  our  wifh  in  all  things 

relating 


i 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  24I 

relating  to  our  own  private  fortune  only. 
As  Confaho^  fhewing  his  foldiers  Naples, 
bravely  protefted,  "  That  he  had  much  ra- 
*'  ther  run  himfelf  upon  certain  ruin,  by 
*'  fetting  one  foot  forward,  than  prolong 
"  his  life  for  many  years  by  retreating  one 
"  foot  backward  :'*  to  which  the  wifdom  of 
that  heavenly  philofopher  alfo  has  fub- 
fcribed  who  pronounced,  *'  That  a  good 
*'  confcience  is  a  continual  feaft:"  plainly 
fignifyijig,  that  the  confcioufnefs  of  good 
intentions,  however  unfuccefsful,  affords 
more  folid  and  fincere  joy,  and  to  nature 
more  agreeable,  than  all  that  provifion  where- 
with man  can  be  furniflied,  either  for  the 
fruition  of  his  defirps,  or  the  reft  and  repofe 
of  his  mind. 

It  cenfures  likewlfe  that  abufe  of  philo- 
fophy  which  grew  general  about  the  time 
of  Epi£ietus',  which  was,  that  philofophy 
was  converted  into  a  profeffory  kind  of  life, 
and  as  it  were  into  an  art:  as  if  the  purpofe 
of  philofophy  was,  not  to  reprefs  and  extin- 
guifli  perturbations,  but  to  ihun,  and  keep 
at  a  diftance,  the  caufes  and  occafions  of 
them ;  and  therefore  a  particular  kind  and 

Vol.  II.  R  courfe 


Z^Z  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

courfe  of  life  were  to  be  {haped  to  that  end  : 
introducing  indeed  fuch  a  health  of  mind, 
as  was  that  of  body  in  Herodicus,  wdiom 
jlriflotk  fpeaks  of:  *«  That  he  did  nothing 
^'  all  his  life  long,  but  ftudy  his  health  ;" 
and  therefore  abftaincd  from  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  things ;  being,  in  the  mean  time, 
immerfed,  as  it  were,  in  the  ufe  of  his  body : 
but  were  the  duties  of  fociety  the  delight  of 
a  man's  foul,  that  health  of  body,  when  all 
is  done,  is  principally  to  be  deftred,  which 
is  mofl  able  to  bear  and  overcome  all  altera- 
tions and  fhocks  whatever:  likewife,  that 
mind  only  is  to  be  reckoned  truly  and  pro- 
perly found  and  flrong,  which  can  break 
through  the  moil:  and  greatefl  temptations 
and  perturbations.  So  that  Diogenes  feems 
to  have  fpoken  judicioufly,  who  commended 
fuch  ftrength  and  powers  of  mind,  as  were 
able,  not  warily  to  abftain,  but  bravely  to 
fuftain;  w^hich  can  reftrain  and  check  the 
fallies  of  the  foul,  even  in  the  greatefl  pre- 
cipices ;  and  can  do  wdiat  is  commended  in 
well-rnanagcd  horfes,  that  is,  flop  and  turn 
in  the  mofl:  narrow  compafs. 


Lastly^ 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  243 

Lastly,  it  cenfures  a  certain  delicacy 
and  want  of  application,  noted  in  fome  of 
the  moft  ancient  and  reverend  philofophers, 
who  withdrew  too  eafily  from  civil  bulinefs, 
for  avoiding  indignities  and  perturbations, 
and  that  they  might  live  more  unftained,  and 
as  it  were  facred  in  their  perfons  :  whereas 
the  refolution  of  a  man  truly  moral  ought  to 
be  fuch,  as  the  fame  Confaho  required  in  a 
military  man,  viz.  That  his  honour  fhould 
be  tela  crajfiore^  of  a  ftronger  texture,  and 
not  fo  fine,  as  tliat  every  thing  (hou'ld  catch 
in  it,  and  tear  it. 


PRIVATE      GOOD, 

'AND      THE 

GOOD      OF      SOCIETY. 

T  E  T  us  now  refume  and  profecute 
firfl:,  private  and  particular  good. 
This  we  will  divide  into  good  active,  and 
good  palhve.  For  this  difference  of  good, 
fimilar  to  thofe  appellations  among  the 
R  2  Romans 


^44  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

Romans  in  their  oeconomics  of  Promus  and 
Condus^  is  found  deeply  engraven  upon  the 
univerfal  nature  of  things,  and  is  bed  dif- 
clofed  in  the  two  feveral  appetites  in  crea- 
tures ;  the  one  to  preferve  and  fortify  them- 
felves,  the  other  to  multiply  and  dilate 
themfelves  :  whereof  the  latter,  which  is 
active,  feems  to  be  the  ftronger  and  wor- 
thier ;  and  the  former,  which  is  paffive,  may 
well  be  judged  the  inferior.  For  in  nature, 
the  heavens,  which  are  the  more  worthy, 
are  the  agent;  and  the  earth,  which  is  the 
Icfs  worthy,  is  the  patient.  In  the  pleafures 
of  living  creatures,  that  of  generation  is 
greater  than  that  of  food.  In  divine  doc- 
trine, "  it  is  more  bleffed  to  give  than  to 
*'  receive."  A6ls  xx,  ^^.  In  common  life 
too,  there  is  no  man's  fpirit  fo  fbft  and  ef- 
feminate, but  he  efleems  the  effeding  of 
fomethino;  that  he  has  fixed  in  his  delire, 
more  than  any  fenfuality  or  pleafure.  And 
this  priority  of  adive  good  is  highly  exalted 
from  thp  Gonfi deration  of  our  eftate  being 
mortal,  and  expofed  to  the  flroke  of  fortune. 
For  if  we  might  have  a  perpetuity  and  cer- 
tainty in  our  pleafures,  the  price  of  them 
Woul^  be  advanced,  on  the  account  of  their 

fecuritv 


I 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  24^ 

fecuritycind  continuance.  But  when  we  fee 
it  is  but  Magni  ajiimamus,  ^c.  "  We  fet  a 
*'  great  value  upon  dying  a  little  later :" 
and,  "  Boaft  not  of  to -morrow  ;  thou  know- 
"  eft  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth  :"  it 
makes  us  defire  to  have  fomething  fecured 
and  exempted  from  time;  which  can  be 
oiily  our  deeds,  as  it  is  faid,  "  Their  w^orks 
*'  follow  them."     Revel,  xiv. 


The  pre-eminence  likewife  of  this  aclive 
good  is  proved,  by  the  aftcclion  which  is 
natural  in  man  tow^ards  variety  and  pro- 
greffion;  wdiich  affection,  in  the  pleafures 
of  the  fenfe,  which  is  the  pruicipal  part  of 
pafiive  good,  can  have  no  great  latitude. 
"  Do  but  think,"  fliys  Seneca,  '*  how^  often 
"  you  have  enjoyed  the  fame  things;  meat, 
*'  fleep,  diverfion  ;  we  run  round  in  this 
"  circle:  fo  not  only  a  brave,  a  miferable, 
"  or  a  wife  man,  but  a  nice  faftidious  perfon 
**  would  wifh  to  die."  But  in  the  enter- 
prizes,  purfuits,  and  purpofes  of  life,  there 
is  much  variety,  which  affords  great  plea- 
fure  in  their  inceptions,  progreffions,  recoils 
in  order  to  renew  their  forces,  approaches, 
attainments  of  their  ends,  and  the  like:  io 
R3  it 


246  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

it  was  well  and  truly  find  :"  *'  A  life  that 
"  propofes  no  end  to  piirfue,  is  vague  and 
"  infipid.'*  Neither  has  this  a£live  good 
^ny  identity  with  the  good  of  fociety,  though 
in  fome  cafes  it  is  coincident  with  it;  for 
although  it  does  many  times  hring  forth 
a6ls  of  beneficence,  yet  it  is  private  with 
refpe6l  to  a  man*sown  power,  glory,  amplifi- 
cation, and  continuance  ;  as  appears  plainly, 
when  it  lights  upon  a  fubjed  which  is  con- 
trary to  the  good  of  fociety.  For  that  gi- 
gantic flate  of  mind,  which  pofleffes  the 
difturbers  of  the  world,  fuch  as  was  Lucius 
Svl/a,  and  infinite  others  in  fmaller  model, 
who  would  have  all  men  happy  or  unhappy, 
as  they  are  their  friends  or  enemies,  and 
would  give  form  to  the  world  according  to 
their  own  humour,  w^hich  is  "the  true  the' 
miachy^  pretends  and  afpires  to  aclive  good, 
though  it  recedes  farthefl  from  the  good  of 
fociety,  which  we  have  determined  to  be 
the  greater. 

To  refume  paflive  good,  we  will  fubdivide 
it  into  good  confervatlve,  and  good  perfec- 
tiv^e.  For  there  is  impreffed  upon  every 
thing  a  triple  defireor  appetite,  in  refpe^l  of 

private 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  247 

private  or  particular  good  :  the  firfl,  of  pre- 
ferving  or  continuing  itfelf ;  the  fecond,  of 
advancing  and  perfe(5ling  itfelf;  the  third, 
of  multiplyLiig  or  extending  itfelf.  But  this 
laft  appetite  refers  to  active  good,  which  we 
have  already  handled.  There  remain  there- 
fore only  the  two  other  goods  mentioned; 
whereof  the  perfe£live  excels :  fince  to  pre- 
ferve  a  thing  in  its  natural  flate,  is  lefs  than 
to  advance  the  fame  in  a  higher  nature.  For 
there  are  found  through  all  eflences  fome 
nobler  natures,  to  the  dignity  and  excellency 
of  which  inferior  natures  do  afpire,  as  to 
their  origin  and  fource.     So  in  man : 

Tgncus  cji  oU'is  vigor  et  coelcfm  or'igo. 

^N.VI     73-. 

"  Th'  ethereal  vigour  Is  in  all  the  fame, 
**  And  ev'ry  foul  is  fiU'd  with  equal  flame." 

DRYDE^^ 

His  approach  to  divine  or  angelical  nature 
is  the  perfeftion  of  his  form  ;  a  depraved  and 
prepoflerous  imitation  of  which  perfective 
good,  is  that  which  is  the  tempeft  of  human 
life,  while  man  upon  the  impulfe  of  an 
R  4  advance- 


S48  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

advancement  formal  andeffentlal,  is  carried 
to  feek  an  advancement  only  local :  like  thole 
who  are  fick  and  find  no  remedy,  rove  up 
and  dov^^n  in  change  of  place,  as  if  by  a 
remove  local,  they  could  obtain  a  remove 
internal,  and  flilft  off  their  difeafe.  So  is 
it  in  ambition;  that  men,  being  poflefled 
and  led  away  with  a  falfe  refemblance  of 
exalting  their  nature,  purchafe  nothing  elfe 
but  an  eminence  and  elevation  of  place.  So 
then  paffive  good  is,  as  was  faid,  either  con- 
fervative  or  perfe6llve. 

To  re  fume  the  good  of  confervation  or 
comfort,  which  confifts  in  the  fruition  of 
that  which  is  agreeable  to  our  natures,  it 
feems  to  be  the  moft  pure  and  natural  good, 
yet  it  is  the  fofteft  and  loweft.  And  this 
alfo  receives  a  difference,  which  has  nei- 
ther been  accurately  examined  nor  decided  : 
for  the  good  of  fruition  or  delight  is  placed 
either  in  the  fincerity  of  the  fruition,  or  in 
the  quicknefs  and  vigour  of  it :  the  one  fu- 
perinduced  by  the  equahty;  the  other  by 
variety  and  viciffitude.  The  one  having  lefs 
mixture  of  evil ;  the  other,  a  more  ffrong 
and  lively  impreffion   of  good:    which    of 

thel^7 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 


249 


thefels  the  greater  good,  is  a  queftion  con- 
troverted; but  whether  man's  nature  may 
not  be  capable  of  both,  is  a  queftion  not 
difcufled. 

The  former  queftion  being  debated  be- 
tween Socrates  and  a  Sophift;  Socrates  placed 
felicity  in  a  conftant  peace  and  tranquillity 
of  mind;  but  the  Sophlft  in  defiring  and  en- 
joying much ;  they  fell  from  arguments 
to  ill  words  ;  the  Sophifl  faying,  "  That 
"  Socrates'^  happln.-fs  was  that  of  a  block 
*'  or  a  flone:"  Socrates,  on  the  other  fide, 
"  That  the  Sophift's  happinefs  was  that  of 
*'  one  that  had  the  itch,  who  did  nothing 
"  but  fcratch."  And  both  thefe  opinions 
do  not  want  their  advocates.  For  to  Socrates 
even  the  fchool  of  Epicurus  itfelf  aflents,  not 
denying  but  virtue  contributes  moft  to  hap- 
pinefs:  and  if  fo,  moft  certain  it  is,  that 
there  is  more  ufe  of  virtue  in  compofing 
perturbations,  than  in  accomplifl-iing  defires. 
The  Sophift's  opinion  is  favoured  fomething 
by  this  afiertion  ;  "  That  the  comparing  of 
*'  thmgs  defired,  feems  by  degrees  to  perfect 
*'  nature:"  v.hich,  though  it  (hould  not  in 

reality 


250  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

reality  do,  yet  motion,  though  in  a  circle, 
has  fomevvhat  of  a  fhew  of  progrellion. 

But  the  fecond  queftion:  that  is,  Whe- 
ther the  nature  of  man  may  not  at  once 
retain  both  a  tranquillity  of  mind,  and  the 
vigour  of  fruition,  decided  the  true  way, 
makes  the  former  ftiperfluous.  For  do  we 
not  often  fee,  that  fome  men  are  fo  framed 
and  made  by  nature,  as  to  be  extremely 
affedled  with  pleafures  while  they  are  pre- 
fent,  and  yet  are  not  greatly  troubled  at  the 
lofs  of  them  ?  So  that  this  precept,  *'  Not 
*'  to  ufe,  that  you  may  not  defire:  Not  to 
***defire,  that  you  may  not  fear;''  feems  to 
be  the  refult  of  a  poor  diffident  fpirit.  And 
certainly  mofi:  of  the  do6lrines  of  the  philo- 
fophers  are  more  fearful  and  cautionary, 
than  the  nature  of  things  requires.  Thus 
have  they  increafed  the  fear  of  death.  In  of- 
fering to  cure  it:  for  when  they  would  have 
a  man's  whole  life  to  be  but  a  difclpline  or 
preparation  for  death,  they  mufl  make  men 
think  that  it  is  a  terrible  enemy,  againft 
which  there  is  no  end  of  preparing.  Better 
fays  the  Poet : 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  25 1 

S^iii  fpatlumvitcs  extremum  Inter  munera  ponut  naturae. 

*'  A  fonl  that  can  lecurely  death  defr, 
*'  And  count  it  nature's  privilege  to  die.'* 

Dryden: 

So  have  the  philofophers  fought  to  make 
mens  minds   too  uniform   and  harmonious, 
by  not    breaking  and  inuring  them  to  con- 
trary  motions  and  extremes.     The   renfou 
of  which  I  fuppofe  to  be,  becaufe  they  them- 
felves  were  men  dedicated  to  a  private,  free 
and  inaclive  courfe  of  Hfe.     For  as  we   fee 
upon  the  lute,  or  hke  inflrument,  a  ground, 
though  it  be  fweet,  and  have  ihew  of  many 
changes,  yet  breaks   not  the  hand  to  fuch 
Urange  and  hard  flops  and  paflliges,  as  a  fet 
fong  or  voluntary:    much   after  the  fime 
manner  was  the  diverfity  between  a  philofo- 
phicalanda  civil  life;   and  therefore  men 
are  to  Imitate  the  wlfdom  of  jewellers,  who, 
if  there  be  a  cloud   or  fpeck  which  may  be' 
ground  out,    without  taking  too  much  of 
the  ftone,  they  help  it;  but  if  it  fhould  leffen 
and  abate  the  flone  too  much,  they  will  not 
meddle  with  it:  fo  ought  men  fo  to  procure 
lerenity,  as  not  to  dcflroy  magnanimity. 

-  Having 


252  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

Having  therefore  fpoken  of  private  or 
individual  good,  let  us  refume  the  good  of 
communion,  which  refpe6ls  fociety.  This 
commonly  goes  by  the  name  of  duty  ;  be- 
caufe  the  term  duty  is  more  proper  to  a  mind 
well  framed  and  compofed  towards  others; 
as  the  term  virtue  is  applied  to  a  mind  well 
formed  and  compofed  within  itfelf ;  though 
virtue  cannot  be  underftood,  without  fomc 
relation  to  fociety,  nor  duty,  without  an 
inward  difpofition.  This  part  may  feem  at 
firft  fight  to  belong  to  fclence  civil  and  poli- 
tical ;  but  not  if  it  be  well  obferved.  For  it 
concerns  the  regimen  and  government  of 
every  man  over  himfelf,  and  not  over  others. 
And  as  in  architedlure,  it  is  one  thing  to 
frame  the  pofts,  beams,  and  other  parts  of 
an  edifice,  and  to  prepare  them  for  the  ufe 
of  building;  and  another  thing  to  fit  and 
join  the  fame  parts  together :  and  in  me- 
chanics, the  dire6lion  how  to  frame  an  in- 
flrument  or  engine,  is  not  the  fame  with  the 
manner  of  ere6ling,  moving,  and  fetting  it 
to  work,  yet  in  expreffing  of  the  one,  we 
incidently  exprefs  the  aptnefs  towards  the 
other  :  fo  the  doftrine  of  the  conjugation  of 
men  in  fociety  differs  from  that  which  makes 

them 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  252 

them  conformable,  and  well  afFeded  to  the 
welfare  of  fuch  a  focietj. 

Duties  are  fubdividcd  into    two  parts: 
the  common  duty  of  every  man,  as  a  mem- 
ber of  a  ftate ;  the  other,  the  refpedive  or 
fpecial  duty  of  every  man  in  his  profeffion, 
vocation,  and  place.     The  firft  of  thefe  is 
extant  and  well  laboured,    as  has  been  faid : 
the  fecond  likewife  we  hnd  handled   in  de- 
tached parts,    not  digefted   into  an   entire 
body  of  a  fcience:  which  manner  of  dif- 
perfed  writing,  in  this  kind  of  argument,   I 
acknowledge  to  be  beft:  for  who  can  take 
upon  him  to  write  of  the  proper  duty,  vir- 
tue, challenge,  and  right  of  every  feveral  vo- 
cation, profeffion,  and  place?    For  although 
fometimes  a  looker  on  may  fee  more  than  a 
gamefler;   and  there  is  a  proverb  more  ar- 
rogant than  found,  touching  the  cenfure  of 
the    vulgar,   as   to   the    adions  of  princes, 
*'  That  the   vale   befl  difcovers  the  hill ;" 
yet  there  is  httle  doubt  but  that  men  can 
write  bef},  and  mofl  really   and  materially 
io,^  in   their  own   profefiion  :    and  that  the 
vyritings  of  fpeculative  men  concerning  ac- 
tive matters,  feem  to  men  of  experience  little 

better 


54  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

better  thai*  Phormws  difcourfes  of  the  wars 
feemed  to  Han?iibal,  who  efteemed  them 
dreams  and  dotage.  Only  there  is  one  vice 
which  accompanies  thofe  who  write  in  their 
own  profeflion,  that  they  magnify  them  to 
excefs.  But  generally  it  were  to  be  wifhed, 
which  would  make  learning  indeed  folid  and 
fruitful,  that  active  men  w^ould  or  could  be- 
come writers. 

There  belongs  to  this  part  touching  the 
duties  of  profeilions  and  vocations,  the  op- 
pofite  one,  concerning  the  frauds,  provifi- 
onary  cautions,  impoftures,  and  vices  of 
every  profeflion ;  which  have  likewife  been 
treated  of  in  many  writings.  But  how? 
Rather  by  way  of  fatire  and  cynical,  in  the 
manner  of  Ludarj,  than  ferioufly  and  wifely. 
For  men  have  rather  fought  by  wit  to  deride 
and  traduce  much  of  that  which  is  good  in 
profeffions,  than  with  judgment  to  difcover 
and  fever  that  which  is  corrupt.  For  as 
Solomon  fays,  He  that  cometh  to  feek  after 
knowledge,  with  a  mind  to  fcorn  and  cen- 
fure,  fhall  be  fure  to  find  matter  for  his 
humour,  but  none  for  his  inflruclion.  ^a^- 
renti  derifori^  &c.     "  A  fcorner  feeketh  wif- 

"  dom. 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  255 

"  dom,  and  fiiideth  it  not:  but  knowledge 
"  is  eafy  to  him  that  underflandeth."  Prov. 
xiv.  6.  But  the  managing  of  this  argument 
with  integrity  and  truth,  which  I  note  as 
deficient,  feems  to  me  to  be  one  of  the  beil 
fortifications  for  honefly  and  virtue  that  can 
be  planted.  For  as  the  fable  goes  of  the 
BafiUfk^  that  if  he  fee  you  firft,  you  die  for 
it;  but  if  you  fee  him  firft,  he  dies  :  fo  it  is 
wdth  deceits  and  evil  arts ;  which,  if  they 
are  firfl  efpied,  lofe  their  life  :  that  is,  their 
power  of  doing  hurt :  but  if  they  attack  you 
by  furprife,  they  endanger.  So  that  we  are 
much  beholden  to  Machiavel  and  others, 
who  write  what  men  do,  and  not  what  they 
ought  to  do ;  for  it  is  not  poffible  to  join  the 
"  wifdom  of  theferpent  with  the  innocence 
"  of  the  dove;"  excep  t  men  knew  exactly 
all  the  conditions  of  the  ferpent :  his  bafe- 
nefs,  and  going  upon  his  belly;  his  volubi- 
Hty  and  lubricity ;  his  envy  and  fting,  and 
the  reft  ;  that  is,  all  forms  and  natures  of 
evil.  For  without  this  fkill,  virtue  lies  open 
and  unfenced:  nay,  a  fincere  and  honeft 
man  can  do  no  good  in  reclaiming  thofe  that 
are  wicked,  without  the  knowledge  of  evil. 
For   men   of  corrupt   minds   and   depraved 

judgments 


256  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

judgments  prefuppore,that  honefty  grows  out 
of  ignorance,  fimpliclty  of  manners,  the  be- 
lief of  preachers,  fchool-mafters,  and  mens 
exterior  language :  fo  unlefs  you  can  con- 
vince them  that  you  know  the  utmofl  reaches 
of  their  own  corrupt  opinions,  they  defpife 
all  morality,  according  to  that  admirable 
dodlrine  of  Solomon:  "  A  fool  will  not  re- 
"  ceive  the  words  of  the  wife,  unlefs  thou 
*'  fpeakeil  the  very  things  that  are  in  his 
"  heart.'*  Prov.  xvii.  2.  [(i.  e.)  unlefs 
thou  know  all  the  coverts  and  depths  of 
wickednefs. 

To  this  part,  touching  refpe£live  duty  are 
afligned  the  mutual  duties  between  hufband 
and  wife,  parent  and  child,  mafter  and  fer- 
vant;  folikewife,  the  laws  offriendfhip  and 
gratitude :  as  alfo  the  civil  bonds  of  frater- 
nities, colleges,  politic  bodies,  of  neighbour- 
hood, and  all  other  proportionate  duties :  not 
as  they  are  parts  of  government  and  fociety, 
for  that  refers  to  politics,  but  as  to  the 
framing  the  mind  of  particular  perfons,  for 
the  maintaining  of  fuch  bonds  of  fociety. 

But 


ON    MORAL    Ki^OVVLEDGE.  '257 

But  the  dodrine  concerning  the  good  of 
communion,  or  of  Ibcietj,  and  good  indivi- 
dual, not  only  confiders  limply,  but  cpmpa- 
ratively  alfo ;  to  which  belongs  the  weigh- 
ing of  duties  between  perfon  and  perfon; 
between  cafe  and  cafe  ;  between  private  and 
public;  between  time  prefent,  and  fa-- 
tare  :  as  we  may  fee  in  the  fevere  and  cruel 
proceeding  of  L.  Emtiis  againfl:  his  own  fons, 
which  was  fo  much  extolled  by  the  genera- 
lity of  people. 

Again,    we  fee  when  ilf.  ^r«//^^  and  C^ 
fius  invited  to  fupper  thofe  whofe  opinioas 
.they  meant  to  found,  whether  they  were  fit 
to  be  made  their  aflbciates ;  and  propofing  the 
queftion  touching  the  lawfulnefs  of  killing 
a  tyrant,   as  an  ufurper,   they  were  divided 
in  opinion;    fome    holding,    that   fervitude 
was  the  extreme  of  evils  ;    and  others,  that 
•tyranny  was  better    than   a  civil   war.      A 
number  of  the  like  cafes  there  are  of  com- 
parative  duty  ;  the  moft  celebrated  of  which, 
where  the  queftion  is,  of  a  great   deal   of 
good  to  enfue  from  a  lefler  injury  :    which 
Jafon  of -TT^f/T^/y  determined  againfl  the  truth : 
Allqua  funt  injufie  facicnda,   ^c,       ««  Some 
Vol,  IL  S  "  things 


258  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

*'  things  may  be  done  unjuftly,  that  many 
things  may  be  done  juftly.  But  the  repl}'  is 
good :  Author  em  prcefenth  jujlhla  habes  ;  fpon- 
forem future  non  habes:  "  Men  miifl:  purfue 
*'  things  which  are  juft  in  time  prefent,  and 
*'  leave  the  future  to  divine  providence." 
And  fo  we  pafs  on  from  this  general  part 
touching  the  exemplar  and  defcription  of 
good. 

Having  treated  of  this  fruit  of  life,  it 
remains  to  fpeak  of  the  hufbandry  requifite 
to  produce  it:  without  which  part, the  former 
feems  to  be  no  better  than  a  fair  image  or 
ftatue,  which  is  beautiful  to  contemplate, 
but  without  life  and  motion ;  to  which  opi- 
nion Ar'ijlotle  himfelf  fubfcribes  in  exprefs 
words:  "  It  is  neceffary  to  fpeak  of  virtue, 
*'  both  what  it  is,  and  how  to  procure  it ; 
"  for  it  would  be  to  little  purpofe  to  know 
*'  virtue,  and  to  be  ignorant  of  the  manner 
*«  and  means  how  to  compafs  it.  For  en- 
*'  quiry  mufl:  be  made  not  only  of  her  form, 
*'  but  alfo  how  fhe  is  to  be  attained  :  for  we 
*'  fhould  have  both  the  knowledge  and  the 
<*  fruition  of  it.  Now  this  cannot  fucceed 
«'  to  our  defire,   unlefs  we  know  both  of 

*'  what 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  25 

•*  what  materials  it  is  compounded,  ^nd 
*'  how  to  procure  it."  In  fuch  ftrong  and 
repeated  terms  does  he  inculcate  this  part, 
which  notwithflanding  he  himfelf  does  not 
profecute.  This  is  what  Cicero  attributed  to 
Cato  the  younger,  as  a  great  commendation, 
that  he  had  applied  himfelf  to  philofophy, 
"  not  for  difputation  fake,  but  to  live  ac- 
"  cording  to  its  rules."  Though,  through 
the  neglect  of  our  times,  wherein  few  men 
hold  any  conlultation  touching  the  reforma- 
of  their  life,  as  6'^;z£'c^  excellently  fays,  "  Of 
*'  the  parts  of  life  every  one  deliberates; 
*'  of  the  fum  of  Hfe  nobody;"  this  -part 
may  feem  fuperfluous,  yet  this  moves  us  not 
to  leave  it  untouched,  but  rather  we  con- 
clude with  that  aphorifm  of  Hippocrates: 
^t  gravi  morbo  correpti  dolores  nonfetitiunt^  us 
mens  ^gra  eft:  "  They  who  are  fick  of  a 
"  dangerous  difeafe,  and  feel  no  pain,  are 
''  diflempered  in  their  underflanding."  Such 
men  need  a  medicine,  not  only  to  afluage 
the  difeafe,  but  to  awaken  the  fenfe  :  and  if 
it  be  laid,  that  the  cure  of  mens  minds  be- 
longs to  facred  divinity,  it  is  moft  truly 
faid;  but  yet  what  hinders,  but  moral  phi- 
lofophy may  be  accepted  into  the  train  of 
S  2  the- 


i'66  ON   MORAL   KNOWLEDGE. 

theology,  as  a  wife  fervant  and  humble 
hand-maid,  ready  at  all  commands  to  do  her 
lervice?  For  as  it  is  in  the  Pfalms,  "  That 
^'  the  eyes  of  the  hand-maid  look  perpetually 
**  towards  the  miftrefs  :"  and  yet  no  doubt 
many  things  are  left  to  the  difcretion  and 
care  of  the  hand-maid,  to  difcern  of  the 
miftrefs's  will :  fo  ought  moral  philofophy 
to  give  all  due  obfervance  to  divinity,  and  to 
be  obfequlous  to  her  precepts ;  yet  fo  as  it 
may  yield  of  itfelf,  within  due  limits,  many 
found  and  profitable  diredions. 

This  part  therefore,  when  I  ferioufly  con- 
fider  its  excellency,  I  cannot  but  find  ex- 
ceeding ftrange  that  it  is  not  yet  reduced 
hito  a  body  of  knowledge ;  efpecially  as  it 
confifls  of  much  matter,  wherein  both  fpeech 
and  a6lion  is  often  converfant,  and  fuch 
wherein  the  common  talk  of  men,  though 
Tarely,  yet  fometimes  is  wifer  than  their 
books:  it  is  reafonable  therefore  that  we 
propofe  it  the  more  particularly,  both  for  the 
worchinefs,  and  that  we  may  acquit  our- 
felves  for  reporting  it  deficient,  which  feems 
almofl  incredible,  and  prefuppofed  complete 
by  the  writers  on  morality.  We  will  there- 
fore 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  261 

fore  enumerate  feme  heads  or  points  thereof, 
that  it  may  appear  the  better  what  it  is,  and 
whether  it  be  extant. 


The  GEORGICS  of  the  MIND, 

OR      THE 

CULTURE    OF    OUR    MANNERS. 


First  therefore  in  this,  as  in  all  things 
which  are  praftical,  we  ought  to  calculate 
what  is  in  our  power,  and  what  not ;  for  the 
one  may  be  dealt  with  by  alteration,  but  the 
other  by  way  of  application  only.  The 
hufbandman  cannot  command,  neither  the 
nature  of  the  earth,  nor  the  feafons  of  the 
year  ;  no  more  can  the  phyfician  the  confti- 
tution  of  the  patient,  nor  the  variety  of  ac- 
cidents :  fo  in  the  culture  and  cure  of  the 
mind  of  man,  two  things  are  without  oqr 
command;  points  of  nature,  and  points  of 
fortune:  for  to  the  bafis  of  the  one,  and  the 
conditions  of  the  other,  our  work  is  limited 
S  3  and 


262  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

and  tied.     In  thefe  things  therefore  it  is  left 
vinto  us  to  proceed  by  application  : 

Super anda  omnh  fortuna  fcrcndo. 

YiRG.^n.  VII. 

*'  By  fufF'ring  well,  our  fortune  we  iubdue." 
And  fo  likewife, 
*'  By  fufF'ring  well,   our  Nature  we  fubdue." 

But  when  we  fpeak  of  fufFering,  we  do 
not  mean  a  dull  and  negledled,    but  a  wife 
and  induflrious  fufFering,   which  draws  and 
continues  ufe   and   advantage,    out  of  that 
which  feemsadverfe  and  contrary;  which  is 
thatproperty  which  we  call  accommodating, 
or  applying.     Now,  the  wifdom  of  applica- 
tion lies  principally  in  the  exa^i:  and  diftiuifc 
knowledge  of  the  precedent  ftate  or  difpofi- 
tion,    unto    which   we    do  apply:     for  we 
cannot  fit  a  garment,  except  we  firfl  take 
meafure  of  the  body. 

So  then  the  firft  article,  touching  the  cul- 
ture of  the  mind,  is  to  fet  down  found  and 

true 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  265 

true  diftnbiitions  and  defcriptions  of  the  fe- 
veral  charafters  of  mens  natures  and  difpofi- 
tions,  having  efpecial  regard  to  thofe  diffe- 
rences which  are  moil  radical,  in  being  the 
fountains  and  caufesofthe  reft,  or  mofl  fre- 
quent in  concurrence  or  commixture  ;  where- 
in it  is  not  the  handhng  of  a  few  of  them 
fuperficially,  the  better  to  defcribe  the  me- 
diocrities of  virtues,  that  can  fatisfy  this 
intention:  for  if  it  deferves  to  be  confidered 
that  there  are  minds  w^hich  are  proportioned 
to  great  matters,  and  others  to  fmall,  which 
Jr'ijiotle  handles,  or  ought  to  have  handled, 
by  the  name  of  magnanimity ;  does  it  not 
deferve  as  well  to  be  confidered,  that  there 
are  minds  proportioned  to  comprehend  many 
matters,  and  others  few  ?  So  that  fome  can 
divide  themfelves,others  can  perchance  do  ex- 
aaiy  w^ell,  but  it  mufl  be  only  in  few  things 
at  once ;  and  fo  there  comes  to  be  a  narrow- 
nefsofmind,  as  well  as  pufiUanimity,  And 
again,  that  fome  minds  are  proportioned  to 
that  which  may  be  difpatched  at  once,  or 
within  a  Ihort  return  of  time ;  others  to  that 
which  begins  afar  off,  and  is  to  be  won  with 
length  of  purfuit, 

S4  Hoc 


^64  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE, 


■ Hoc  regnum  dea  genfibus  ejjc, 

SI  ^ua  fatajinantj  jam  turn  tcnditquefovctque, 

ViRG.  Mv\.  I.  21. 


Here,  if  heav'n  were  kind, 


«<  The  feat  of  awful  empire  fhedefign'd." 

Dryden. 

So  that  there  may  be  fitly  faid  to  be  a  loh- 
ganimity,  which  is  commonly  alio  alcrfbed 
to  God,  as  a  magnanimity.  Further  de- 
ferved  it  to  be  confidered  hy  Jrijiotle,  that 
there  is  a  difpofition  in  converfation,  even  in 
things  which  have  no  connexion  with  a 
man's  felf,  to  footh  and  pleafe  ;  and  a  con- 
trary difpolition  to  contradict  and  crofs :  and 
deferves  it  not  much  better  to  be  confidered, 
that  there  is  a  difpofition,  not  in  converfation 
or  talk,  but  in  matters  of  more  ferious  na- 
ture, and  without  any  intereft  in  them,  to 
take  pleafure  in  the  good  of  another ;  and  a 
difpofition,  on  the  contrary,  to  take  diflafle 
at  the  good  of  another  ?  Which  is  ^that 
property  which  we  call  good  nature,  or  ill 
nature,  benignity,  or  malignity:  and  there- 
fore I  cannot  fufficiently  marvel,  that  this 
part  of  knowledge  touching  the  feveral  cha- 
jrafters  of  natures  and  difpofitions,  Ihould  be 

omitted, 


ON  MORAL  KNOWLEDGE,  265 

omitted,  both  in  morality  and  policy,  con* 
(idering  it  would  caft  fuch  relplendent  beams 
of  light  upon  both  thole  fciences. 

A  MAN  (hall  find  in  the  traditions  of  aftro- 
logy,  fome  curious  and  apt  divifionsof  mens 
natures,  according  to  the  predominances  of 
the  planets;  lovers  of  quiet,  lovers  ofadion, 
lovers  of  vidory,  lovers  of  honour,  lovers 
of  pleafure,  lovers  of  arts,  lovers  of  change, 
&c.  So  among  the  poets,  heroical,  fatyrical, 
tragical,  comical,  a  man  fhall  find  every- 
where the  images  of  peculiar  manners, 
though  commonly  with  excefs,  and  be  von  d 
the  proportion  of  truth  :  but  the  beft  provi- 
iion,  and  nobleft  matter  of  fuch  a  treatife, 
may  be  fetched  from  the  wlfer  fort  of  hifto- 
rians,  but  yet  not  from  the  eulogies  only, 
which  they  are  wont  to  fubjoin  upon  men- 
tioning the  death  of  any  illuflrious  perfon  ; 
but  much  more  from  the  entire  body  of  the 
hiftory,  as  often  as  fuch  a  perfon  is  exhi- 
bited. For  this  interwoven  image  feems  to 
be  a  better  delcription  than  any  judgment 
pafled  upon  a  man  in  an  eulogy  :  as  that  in 
iT.  Lhius,  of  Jfricanus,  and  of  Quo  the  El- 
der ;    in  Tacitus,    of  T^iberius,    Claudius  and 

N^ro ; 


266  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

Nero  ;  in  Herod'mn^  of  Septim'ius  Severus  ;  in 
Philip  de  Comines^  of  Lewis  the  Eleventh  of 
Frances  in  Francis  Guiciardine^  of  Ferdinand 
o{  Spain,  Maximilian  the  empcYor,  2.nd  of  Leo 
and  Clement,  Bifhops  of  Rome.  For  thefe 
writers,  having  the  images  of  thofe  perfons 
whom  they  meant  to  decypher,  ahiioft  con- 
ftantly  in  their  eye,  hardly  ever  make  men- 
tion of  their  a6ls  and  atchievements,  without 
interfperfing  at  the  fame  time  fomething 
touching  their  natures.  So  we  fliall  find  in 
the  wifefl  fort  of  thofe  relations,  which  the 
Italians  make  touching  conclaves,  the  na- 
tures of  the  feveral  Cardinals  handfomely  and 
lively  painted  :  as  the  letters  of  amhafl'adors 
fet  forth  the  natures  and  manners  of  coun- 
fellors  to  princes.  A  man  fhall  meet  with, 
in  every  day's  conference,  the  denomuiation 
of  fenfitive,  dry,  formal,  real,  humorous, 
certain,  Huomo  di prima  imprejfwne,  Huomo  di 
ultima  impre^fjio7ie,  and  the  like ;  yet  thefe  ob- 
fervations  are  vague  in  expreflion,  and  not 
accurately  defined  by  enquiry  :  many  dif- 
tin6lions  are  found,  but  we  conclude  no 
precepts  from  them,  becaufe  both  hiftory, 
poeiy,  and  daily  experience,  are  as  goodly 
fields  where    thefe   obfervations   grow;    of 

which, 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  267 

which,  like  flowers,  we  make  a  few  poefies 
to  hold  ill  our  hands,  but  no  man  brings 
them  to  a  chymical  analylis,   that  receipts 
may  be  made  of  them  for  the  ufe  of  life. 
Wherefore   let  there   be   made   out   of  this 
matter,  which  certainly  is  fruitful  and   co- 
pious, a  diligent  and  full  treatife.     But  my 
meaning  is  not  that  thefe  chara6lers  fhould  in 
ethics,  as  in  hiftories,  poems,  and  common 
converfation,  be  draw^n  as  perfedl,  entire  ci- 
vil images,  but  rather  as  thefimpleand  con- 
ftituent  ftrokes  of  the   images  themfelves ; 
which  being  compounded  and   mixed  toge- 
ther  form   and  conftitute  all  effigies  what- 
ever ;  how  many,  and  of  what  fort  they  are  ; 
how     connecled    together,      and     fubordi- 
nate  one  to  another :    to  the  end  there  may 
be  made  a  kind  of  artificial  and  accurate  dif- 
fe£lion   of  tempers  and  natures ;  and  that  a 
difcovery  may  be  made  of  the  fecrets  of  dif- 
pofitions  in  particular  perfons,  and  from  the 
knowledge  thereof,  precepts  and  rules  more 
truly  drawn  for  the  cures  of  the  mind. 

,  And  not  only  the  charaders  of  difpoli-* 

I  tions,  impreffed  by  nature,  ought  to  be  taken 

into  this  treatife;  but  thole  alfo  which  are 

im-» 


268  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDaE. 

impofed  upon  the  mind,  by  the  fex,   age^ 
country,  health  and  ficknefs,  beauty  and  de- 
formity, and  the  like,  which  are  inherent, 
and  not  external :    again    thofe    which     are 
caufed  by  fortune ;  as  fovereignty,  nobility, 
obfcure   birth,     riches,    want,     ma'giftracy, 
privacy,     profperity,      adverfity,      conflant 
fortune,  variable    fortune,   rifing   fuddenly 
or  gradually,     &c.     and  therefore    we     fee 
that  Plautus  m.akes  it  a  wonder  to  fee  an  old 
man  beneficent :  Benignitas  Jmjus  tit  adolefcen- 
iuTieJl:  *'   He  is  as  generous  as  a  young  fel- 
*'  low/'     St.  Paul  concludes,    that  feverity 
of  difcipllne  was  to  be  ufed  to  the  Cretans^ 
"  Rebuke  them  (harply,"  upon  the  difpo- 
fition  of  their  country ;    "  The  Cretans  are 
*'  always  liars,    evil  beafts,    flow   bellies.'* 
•Tit.  i.     Salluft  notes,  that  it  is    ufual  with 
kings  to  defire  contradictories  :  Sed plerumque 
regi^voluntates,  ut vehementesfunt,  Jtc  moh'iles^ 
fo'peque  ipfce  Jibi  adverfa'.     Tacitus  obferves, 
how  rarely  raifing  of  the  fortune  mends  the 
difpofition:  Solus  vefpafanus  mutatus  in  melius. 
Pindar  makes  an  obfervation,  that  great  and 
iudden   fortune  loofens  and  enervates  mens 
iininds:  "  There  are  fome  that  are  not  able 
«  to  digefl  great   felicity."     So  the  pfalm 

Ihews 


OK   MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  269 

Ihews  it  more  eafy  to  keep  a  meafure  in  the 
enjoying  of  fortune,  than  in  the  increafe  of 
it:  "  If  riches  increafe,  fet  not  jour  heart 
"  upon  them.'*  I  deny  not  but  thefe  and 
the  like  obfervations  are  touched  a  little  by 
Arljiotle  incidentally  in  his  rhetoric,  and  are 
handled  in  Ibme  fcattered  difcourfes,  but 
they  were  never  incorporate  into  moral  phi- 
lofophy,  to  which  they  do  effentialiy  belong; 
as  the  knowledge  of  the  diverfity  of  grounds 
does  to  agriculture,  and  the  knowledge  of 
the  diverfity  of  complexions  and  conftitu- 
tions  does  to  the  phyfician ;  except  we  mean 
to  follow  the  indifcretion  of  empirics,  who 
adminifter  the  fame  medicines  to  all  patients 
of  w^hat  conftltution  foever. 

Anotfier  article  of  this  knowledge  is, 
the  enquiry  touching  the  afFedions:  for  as 
in  applying  medicines  to  the  body,  the  flrft 
thing  in  order  is,  to  know  the  different  com- 
plexions and  conftitutions;  fecondly,  the 
difeafes;  and  laftly,  the  cures :  fo  in  admi- 
niftering  remedies  to  the  mind,  after  know- 
ledge of  the  divers  charaders  of  mens  natures, 
it  follows  in  order  to  know  the  difeafes  and 
infirmities  of  tiie  mind,  which  are  no  other 

.  than 


270  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE^ 

than  the  perturbations  and  diftempers  of  the 
affeclions.  For  as  the  ancient  poHticians  in 
popular  ftates  were  wont  to  compare  the 
people  to  the  lea,  and  the  orators  to  the 
winds  ;  becaufe  as  the  fea  would  of  itfelf  be 
calm  and  quiet,  if  the  winds  did  not  move 
and  trouble  it ;  fo  the  people  would  be  peace- 
able and  tradable,  if  the  feditious  orators  did 
not  fet  them  in  working  and  agitation  :  fo 
it  may  be  fitly  faid,  that  the  mind  of  man  in 
its  nature  would  be  temperate  and  ftayed,  if 
the  affedions,  as  winds,  did  not  put  it  into 
tumult  and  perturbation.  And  here  again 
I  find  it  ftrange,  as  before,  th^t  j^ri/iotie  fhould 
have  written  divers  volumes  of  ethics,  and 
never  handled  the  afiedions,  which  is  the 
principal  fubjed  of  it;  and  yet  in  his  rhe- 
toric, where  they  are  confidered  but  colla- 
terally, and  in  a  fecond  degree;  that  is,  {o 
far  as  they  may  be  raifed  and  moved  by 
fpeech,  he  bas  handled  them  well  for  the 
quantity  ;  but  omitted  them  in  their  proper 
place.  For  it  is  not  his  difputations  about 
plcafure  and  pain  that  can  fitisfy  this  en-- 
quiry,  no  more  than  he  that  fhould  generally 
examine  the  nature  of  light  can  be  faid  to 
treat  of  colours  ;  for  pleafure  and  pain  are 

to 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 


271 


to  the  particular  affe£lions,  as  light  is  to 
particular  colours.  Greater  pains,  I  fuppofe, 
had  the  Stoicks  taken  in  this  argument,  as  far 
as  I  can  gather  by  that  which  we  have  at 
fecond-hand;  but  probably  it  was  after  their 
manner,  rather  in  fubtilty  of  definitions, 
which,  in  a  fubjeffl:  of  this  nature,  are  but 
curiofities,  than  in  active  and  am.ple  defcrip- 
tions  andobfervations.  I  find  likewife  fome 
particular  writings,  of  an  elegant  nature, 
touching  fome  of  the  affedlions ;  as  of  anger, 
of  comfort  upon  adverfe  accidents,  of  tender- 
nefs  of  countenance,  and  fome  few  others. 
But  to  fpeak  truth,  the  befl  teachers  of  this 
knowledge  are  the  poets  and  writers  of  hif- 
tories,  where  we  may  find  painted  with 
great  life,  how  affeclions  are  kindled  and 
incited ;  how  pacified  and  reftrained ;  and 
how  again  contained  from  aft,  and  further 
degree;  how  they  difclofe  and  betray  them- 
felves,  though  checked  and  hidden ;  how  they 
work  ;  how  they  vary  ;  how  they  gather  and 
fortify ;  how  they  are  complicated  ;  what 
conflicts  they  have  one  with  another;  and 
fimilar  particularities:  among  which,  this 
laft  is  of  fpecial  ufe  in  moral  ajid  civil  mat- 
ters :   how,  I  fay,  to  fct  affedion  againfl  af- 

fe(^ion, 


2rJ%  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

fecStion,  and  to  mafterone  by  another  ^  evert 
as  we  ufe  to  hunt  bead  with  bead,  and  fly 
bird  with  bird,  which  otherwife  perchance 
we  could  not  fo  eafily  recover:  upon  which 
foundation  is  ereded  that  excellent  ufe  of 
reward  and  punifhment,  whereby  civil  flates 
confift;  employing  the  predominant  affec- 
tions of  fear  and  hope  for  the  fuppreffing 
and  bridling  the  reft :  for  as  in  the  govern- 
ment of  ftates,  it  is  neceflary  to  bridle  one 
fadion  with  another,  fb  it  is  in  the  govern- 
ment within. 

We  now  come  to  thofe  points  which  are 
within  our  own  command,  and  have  force 
and  operation  upon  the  mind  to  aife6l  the 
<wUl  and  appetite,  and  to  alter  the  manners : 
iwiierein  the  philofophers  ought  to  have 
made  a  diligent  and  painful  enquiry  con- 
cerning the  force  and  energy  of  cuftom,  ex- 
•ercife,  habit,  education,  imitation,  emula- 
tion, company,  friendfhip,  praife,  reproof, 
exhortation,  fune,  laws,  books,  ftudies, 
;&c.  For  thefe  are  the  points  which 
have  dominion  in  morality  :  from  thefe 
agents  the  mind  fuffers,  and  is  altered:  of 
thefe,  as  ingredients,  receipts  are  compound- 
1  ed, 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 


^Vo 


ed,  which  conduce  to  the  prefervation  and 
recovery  of  the  health  and  good  eftate  of  the 
mhid,  as  far  as  relates  to  human  medicine. 
Of  which  number  we  will  fele£t  fome  one 
or  two  to  infifl  upon  as  an  example  of  the 
reft,  becaufe  it  were  too  long  to  profecute 
all ;  and  therefore  we  refume  the  confidera- 
tion  of  cuftom  and  habit. 

That  opinion  of  ^r//?c/Z:?  feems  to  me  to 
favour  much  of  negligence,  and  a  -narrow 
contemplation,  where  he  afferts,  that  over 
thofe  a6lions  which  are  natural,  cuftom  has 
no  power;  ufmg  for  example,  that  if  a  ftone 
be  thrown  ten  thoufand  times  up,  it  will  not 
learn  to  afcend  of  itfelf ;  and  that  by  often  fee- 
ing or  hearing  we  do  not  learn  to  fee  or  hear  the 
better.  For  though  this  principle  be  true  in 
things  wherein  nature  is  peremptory,  yet  it  is 
otherwifein  things  wherein  nature,  according 
to  a  latitude,  admits  of  intenfion  and  remif- 
fion :  for  he  might  fee  that  a  ftrait  glove 
will  come  more  eafily  on  with  ufe,  and  that 
a  wand  will  by  ufe  bend  otherwife  than  it 
grew;  that  by  ufe  of  the  voice  we  fpeak 
louder  and  ftronger ;  and  that  by  ufe  of  en- 
during heat  and  cold  we  endure  it  the  better : 
which  two  latter  examples  have  a  nearer  re- 

VoL.  II.  T  femblance 


2^4  ON    MOkAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

femblance  to  the  fubje^l:  he  is  handling,  than 
thofe  Inftances  which  he  alledges.  But  al- 
lowing his  conclufion,  that  virtues  and  vices 
confift  ill  habit,  he  ought  Co  much  the  more 
to  have  taught  the  manner  of  fuperinducing 
that  habit;  for  a  great  many  precepts  may 
be  given  concerning  the  wife  ordering  of  the 
mind,  no  lefs  than  thofe  of  the  body.  We 
will  recite  a  few  of  them. 

The  firft,  to  beware,  at  the  very  begin ^ 
ning,  of  harder  or  ealier  tafks  than  the  cafe 
requires;  for  if  too  great  a  burden  be  laid  on 
a  diffident  nature,  you  will  blunt  the  cheer- 
fulnefs  of  good  hopes:  in  a  nature  full  of 
alTurance  you  will  raife  an  opinion,  whereby 
a  man  will  promife  himfelf  more  than  he  is 
able  to  preform,  which  occafions  floth  :  and 
in  both  tempers,  the  experiment  will  not 
fatisfy  the  expe6lation,  which  ever  difcou- 
rages  and  confounds  the  mind :  but  if  th*- 
tafks  are  too  eafy,  as  to  the  progrefs,  on  the 
whole  there  is  great  lofs. 

The  fecond,  that  for  the  exercifmg  of  any 
faculty,  whereby  a  habit  may  be  acquired^ 
two  feafons  are  chiefly  to  be  obferved :  the 

one, 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  275 

one,  when  the  mhid  is  mofl,  the  other 
when  it  is  leafl:  difpofed  for  the  thing .  that 
by  the  former  we  may  rid  ground  apace, 
and  by  the  latter  we  may,  by  a  ftrenuous 
contention,  work  out  the  knots  and  ftops  of 
tlie  mind;  whereby  the  middle  times  will 
pafs  ealily  and  fmoothly. 

The  third  precept,  that  which  Anjiotk 
mentions  tranfiently ;  that  we  bear  w^ith  all 
our  might,  provided  it  be  a  thing  not  vici- 
ous, towards  the  contrary  of  that  to  which 
we  are  by  nature  mofl  inclined :  like  as  when 
we  row  againft  the  ftream,  or  bend  a  crooked 
wand,  to  make  it  ftrait  the  contrary  way. 

The  fourth  precept  depends  upon  a  prin- 
ciple that  is  mofl  true;  viz.  that  the  mind 
is  more  happily  and  fweetly  brought  to  any 
thing,  if  that,  at  which  we  aim,  be  not  prin- 
cipal in  the  intention  of  the  doer,  but  be 
attained,  as  it  were,  allud  agendo ;  "  by 
*'  doing  fomething  elfe ;"  becaufe  fuch  is  the 
inftind  of  nature,  that  fhe  in  a  manner  hates 
necefhty  and  fevere  commands.  Many  other 
rules  there  are  which  may  profitably  be  pre- 
fcribsd  touching  the  diredion  of  cuftom  : 
T  a  for 


276  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

for  ciiftom,  if  it  be  wifely  and  fkilfully  in- 
duced, really  proves  a  fecond  nature;  but 
if  it  be  conducted  unfkilfully  and  at  random, 
it  will  be  only  nature's  ape ;  which  imitates 
nothing  to  the  life,  but  in  an  auk  ward  and 
ungraceful  manner. 

In  like  manner,  if  we  would  fpeak  of 
books  and  ftudies,  and  of  their  power  and 
influence  upon  manners ;  are  there  not  di- 
vers precepts,  and  ufeful  directions  apper- 
taining thereunto  ?  Has  not  one  of  the  fa- 
thers, in  great  indignation,  called  poetry, 
the  wine  of  devils,  becaufe  it  really  excites  a 
world  of  temptations,  defires,  and  vain  opi- 
nions ?  Is  it  not  a  very  wife  opinion  of 
Arijlotle^^  and  worthy  to  be  well  weighed ; 
*'  That  young  men  are  not  fit  auditors  of 
''  moral  philofophy,  becaufe  the  ferment  of 
*'  their  paffions  is  not  yet  fettled,  nor  laid 
*'  afleep  by  time  and  experience?'*  And  to 
fpeak  truth,  is  not  this  the  reafon,  that  thofe 
moft  excellent  books  and  difcourfes  of  anci- 
ent writers  (whereby  men  are  mofl  power- 
fully invited  to  virtue,  as  well  by  repre- 
fenting  her  auguft  Majefty  to  the  eyes  of  all, 
as  by  expofnig  to  fcorn  popular  opinions, 

attired. 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  277 

attired,  as  it  were,  to  the  difgrace  of  virtue, 
ill  the  habit  of  parafites)  are  of  fo  little  effed: 
towards  honefty  of  life,  and  the  reformation 
of  corrupt  manners ;  becaufe  they  ufe  not  to 
be  read  by  men  mature  in  years  and  judg- 
ment, but  are  left  only  to  boys  and  begin- 
ners ?  Is  not  this  alfo  true,  that  young  mea 
are  much  lefs  fit  auditors  of  policy  than 
morality,  till  they  are  thoroughly  feafoned 
with  religion,  and  the  do6lrine  of  manners 
and  duties;  left  their  judgments  being  de- 
praved and  corrupted,  they  fhould  come  to 
think,  that  there  are  no  true  and  folid  moral 
differences,  but  that  all  is  to  be  meailired  by 
utility  or  fuccefs  ?    As  the  poet  fays ; 

Profperum  etfcUx  fcelus  virtus  vccatur. 

But  the  poets,  you  will  fay,  fpeak  this 
fatlrically,  and  by  way  of  indignation;  yes; 
but  fome  books  of  politics  fuppofe  the  fame 
thing  ferioufly  and  pofitively.  For  fo  it 
pleafes  Af^ctow/  to  fay:  *'  That  \i Ccefar 
"  had  happened  to  have  been  overthrown, 
*'  he  would  have  been  more  odious  than 
"  even  Cataline'^  As  if  truly  there  was  no 
difference,  but  in  fortune  only,  between  a 
T  3  fury 


27^  ON    MO^AL    KNOWLEDGE. 

fury,  compofed  of  luft  and  blood,  and  an  ex- 
alted fpirit,  of  all  mortals,  ambition  apart,  the 
niofl  to  be  admired.     We   fee  from  this  in- 
ftance  how  neceflary  it  is  for  men  to  drink 
deep  of  pious  and"  moral  doctrines,  before 
they  tafle  of  politics  ;   lince  they  who  are 
bred  up  in  the  courts  of  princes^  and  in  af- 
fairs of  flate,  from  their  tender  years,  hardly 
ever  attain  a  fincere  and   inward  probity  of 
manners  ;  how  much  lefs  if  there  be  added, 
the  difcipline  of  corrupt  books  alfo  ?    Again, 
even  in  moral  inftrudlions  themfelves,  or  at 
leaft  fome  of  them,  is  not  caution  llkewife  to 
be  ufed,  left  men  become  thereby  fliff,  ar- 
rogant, and  unfociable,  according  to  that  of 
Cicero,  touching  M.   Cato  f    Hac  bona,   qu^e 
vldemus  divina  et  egregia,  ipjius  fcitote  ejje  fro- 
fria:  nucs  nonnunqtiam  requirimus,  ea  fiint  om- 
nia lion  a  7iai:ura,  Jed  a  magiftro  :    *'  Thefe 
«'  divine  and  excellent  qualities  which  wc 
"  fee,  are,  affure  yourfelyes,  his  own  proper 
"  endowments  :  but  the  things  we  fome- 
"  times  think  him  deficient  in,  they  are  all 
*'  derived  not  from  nature,  but  from  his  in- 
*'  ftru6lor  Zeno^     Many  other  axioms  and 
advices  there  are  touching  thofe   properties 
and  effedls  which  fludies  do  infufe  and  infllll 

into 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  279 

into  manners.  For  that  is  a  true  faying, 
Abetmt  Jiudla  in  mores ;  which  may  equally 
be  affirmed  ofthofe  other  points,  of  company, 
fame,  laws,  and  the  reft,  which  we  recited 
in  the  beginning  of  the  dodrine  of  morality. 

But  there  is  a  culture  of  the  mind  that 
feems  yet  more  accurate  and  elaborate  than 
the  reft,  and  is  built  upon  this  ground,  that 
the  minds  of  all  men  are  at  fome  times  in  a 
ftate  more  perfect,  and  at  other  times  in  a 
ftate  more  depraved.  The  purpofe  there r 
fore  and  intention  of  this  culture  is,  to  fix 
and  cherifti  thofe  good  feafons,  and  to  ftrike 
out  of  the  calendar  and  expunge  the  evil. 
The  fixing  of  the  good  times  is  procured  by 
tw^o  means  :  vows,  or  at  leaft  moft  fteady 
refoiutions ;  and  by  obfervances  and  exer- 
ciies ;  w^liich  are  not  to  be  regarded  fo  much 
in  themfelves,  as  becaufe  they  keep  the 
mind  in  continual  obedience.  The  obli- 
teration of  the  evil  may,  in  like  manner, 
be  brought  about  two  ways :  by  fome  kind 
ot  redemption,  or  expiation  of  that  which 
is  paft  ;  and  by  a  prudent  conduct  for  the 
time  to  come.  But  this  part  feems  w^holly 
^o  belong  to  divinity,  andjuftly;  fmce  thQ 
T  4  true 


28o  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

true  and  genuine  moral  philofophy  is  but  an. 
hand-maid  to  religion. 

Wherefore  we  will  conclude  this  part 
concerning  the  culture  of  the  mind  with  that 
remedy,  which,  of  all  others,  is  the  mofl 
compendious  and  fummary ;  and  again,  the 
moft  noble  and  efle6lual  to  the  forming  of 
the  mind  to  virtue,  and  placing  it  in  a  ftate 
next  to  pcrfeclion :  and  it  is  this ;  the 
eleding  and  propofmg  unto  a  man's  felf  good 
and  virtuous  ends  of  his  life  and  adions, 
which  yet  mufl  be  fuch  as  may  be  within 
his  compafs  to  attain.  For  if  thefe  two 
things  be  fuppofed,  that  a  man  fet  before 
him  honeft  and  good  ends ;  and  again,  that 
he  be  refolute,  conftant,  and  true  to  them, 
it  will  follow,  that  he  iliall  mould  himfelf 
into  all  virtue  at  once.  And  this  is  indeed 
Jike  the  work  of  nature;  whereas  the  other 
courfe  is  like  the  work  of  the  hand:  for  as 
when  a  carver  cuts  and  carves  an  image,  he 
fhapes  only  that  part  of  the  figure  which  he 
is  working  upon,  and  none  of  the  refl ;  for  if 
he  be  upon  the  face,  the  reft  of  the  body 
remains  a  rude  and  formlefs  ftone,  till  fuch 
time  as  he  comes  to  it :  but,  on  the  con- 
trary. 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE.  281 

trary,  when  nature  makes  a  flower,  or  living 
creature,  fhe  forms  the  rudiments  of  all  the 
parts  at  one  time :  after  the  fame  manner,  in 
obtaining  virtue  by  habit,  while  a  man  prac- 
tifes  temperance,  he  does  not  profit  much 
as  to  fortitude,  nor  the  other  virtues:  but 
when  we  dedicate  and  devote  ourfelves  wholly 
to  good  and  honefh  ends,  we  fliall  find  our- 
felves inverted  with  a  precedent  difpofitlon 
to  conform  ourfelves  to  any  virtue  propofed. 
And  this  may  be  that  flate  of  mind  which  is 
excellently  defcribed  by  Anjlotle.  and  which 
he  fays  ought  not  to  be  called  virtuous,  but 
divine.  His  words  are  thefe:  <'  It  may  be 
"  reafonable  to  oppofe  to  immanity,  that 
"  ability  which  is  above  humanity;"  name- 
ly, heroical  or  divine  virtue.  And  a  little 
after :  "  For  as  a  bead  is  not  capable  of  vice 
*'  or  virtue,  fo  neither  is  the  Deity."  And 
therefore  we  may  fee  what  height  of  honour 
Plinius  Secundiis  attributes  to  'Trajan,  in  the 
exaggerated  ftyle  of  the  heathens,  when  he 
fiid,  *'  That  men  needed  to  make  no  other 
"  prayers  to  the  Gods,  than  that  they  would 
*'  continue  to  be  as  good  and  propitious 
*'  lords  to  them,  as  Tf^W/ had  been :"  as  if 
he  had  not  only  been  an  imitation  of  divine 

nature. 


282  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

nature,  but  a  pattern  of  it.  But  tliefe  are 
heathen  and  profane  boaftings,  havhig  but  a 
ihadow  of  that  divine  ftate  of  mind,  which 
rehgion  and  the  holy  faith  do  condud  men 
to,  by  imprinting  upon  their  fouls  charity, 
which  is  excellently  called,  <'  the  bond  of 
^'  perfe6lion,"  becaufe  it  comprehends  and 
faflens  all  virtues  together.  And  it  is  ele- 
e;antly  faid  hy  Mmander  of  fenfual  love,  which 
is  but  a  falfe  Imitation  of  divine  love:  Amor, 
vieUorfophiJla  Icevo,ad hiimanam  vitam :  "  That 
^'  love  teaches  a  man  to  carry  himfelf  better 
^'  than  the  fophifl  or  preceptor;"  whom  he 
calls  left-handed,  becaufe,  with  all  his  rules 
and  precepts,  he  cannot  form  a  man  fo  dex- 
teroufly,  nor  with  that  facility  to  value  and 
govern  himfelf,  as  love  can  do:  certainly, 
if  a  man's  mind  be  truly  inflamed  with  cha- 
rity, it  works  him,  more  fuddenly  into  pcr- 
feclion,  than  all  the  dodlrine  of  morality  can 
do,  which  is  but  a  fophifl:  in  comparifon  of 
the  other.  Nay,  further,  as  Xenophon  ob- 
ferved  truly,  that  all  other  afFeclions,  though 
they  raife  the  mind,  yet  they  do  it  by  diftor- 
tlon  and  violent  agitation  of  extacies  or  ex- 
cefs  ;  but  only  love  exalts  the  mind,  and  at 
the  f.ane  inflant  fettles  and  compoks  it:  fo 


ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE,  183 

aU  Other  human  excellencies  which  we  ad- 
mire, though  they  advance  nature,    yet  are 
llibjedl  to  excefs,  which  charity  only   does 
not  admit.     For  w^e  ,fee  the  angels  in  afpi- 
ring  to  be  like  God  in  power,   tranfgrefled 
and  fell:    "  I  will  afcend,   and  be  like  the 
"  Highefl.' '     By  afpiring  to  be  like  God  in 
knowledge,  man  tranfgrefled  and  fell :  "  Ye 
"  (hall  be  as  Gods,  knowing  good  and  evil :" 
but  by  afpiring  to   a    funilitude  of  God,  in 
goodnefs  or  love,  neither  man  nor  angel  ever 
did  or  can  tranfgrefs.     Nay,  unto  this  imi^ 
tation  we  are  even  called :   ''  Love  your  ene- 
*'  mies  :  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and 
*«  pray  for  them  that  defpitefully  ufe  you, 
t'  and  perfecute  you ;  that  you  may  be  the 
''  children  of  your  Father  which  is  in  hear 
'«  ven,  who  maketh  his   fun  to  rife  on  the 
*'  evil,  and  on  the  good,  and  fendeth  rain 
"  upon  the  juft,  and  upon  the  unjufl:."    So 
in  the  firfh  platform  of  the  divine  nature,  the 
heathen  religion  fpeaks  thus :   *'  Beft,  greatr 
*'  eft ;"  and  the  facred  fcriptures  thus  :  "  Hia 
>'  mercy  is  above  all  his  works.-' 

Thus  having  concluded  that  general  part 
of  human  philofophy,  which  contemplates 

man. 


284  ON    MORAL    KNOWLEDGE. 

man,  as  he  confifts  of  body  and  fpirit,  we 
may  add  that  obfervation  about  moral  know- 
ledge, which  is,  that  there  is  a  kind  of  re- 
lation and  conformity  between  the  good  of 
the  mind,  and  the  good  of  the  body :  for  as 
the  good  of  the  body  confifts  of  health, 
beauty,  ftrength,  and  pleafure ;  fo  the  good 
of  the  mind,  if  we  confider  it  according  to 
the  axioms  of  moral  knowledge,  tend  to  this 
point :  to  make  the  mind  found,  and  free 
from  perturbation ;  beautiful,  and  graced 
with  the  ornament  of  true  decency;  flrong 
and  agile  to  all  the  duties  of  life :  laflly,  not 
flupid,  but  retaining  a  quick  and  lively  fenfe 
of  pleafure,  and  honefl  recreation.  But 
thefe  four,  as  in  the  body,  fo  in  the  mind, 
feldom  meet  all  together :  for  it  is  eafy  to 
obferve,  that  many  have  ftrength  of  wit  and 
courage,  but  have  neither  health  from  per- 
turbations, nor  any  beauty  or  decency  in 
their  a<£lions :  fome  again  have  an  elegancy 
and  finenefs  of  carriage,  who  have  neither 
foundnefs  of  honefty,  nor  vigour  for  the  ac- 
tive duties  :  and  fome  again  have  honefl  and 
reformed  minds,  who  are  neither  an  orna- 
ment to  themfelves,  nor  ufeful  to  the  public : 
others,  who  perhaps  are  mailers  of  three  of 

them. 


1 


ON   CIVIL    CONVERSATION,  185 

them,  but  yet  being  poffefTed  with  a  certain 
ftoical  fadiiefs  and  ftupidity,  pra^tife  indeed 
the  anions  of  virtue,  but  have  none  of  the 
pleafures  of  it.  Thus  of  thefe  four,  two  or 
three  may  meet,  yet  a  concurrence  of  all 
four  very  rarely  happens. 


CIVIL    CONVERSATION. 

CONVERSATION  certainly  ought  not 
to  be  affeded,  but  much  lefs  negledled ; 
fmce  a  prudent  government  of  it  both  carries 
in  itfelf  a  certain  graceful nefs  of  manners, 
and  is  of  great  fervice  towards  a  clever  ma- 
nagement of  bufinefs,  as  well  public  as  pri- 
vate. For  as  action  in  an  orator  is  fo  much 
regarded,  though  an  outward  quality,  that 
it  is  preferred  even  before  thofe  other  parts 
which  feem  more  grave  and  intrinfic;  in 
the  fame  manner  almofl,  in  a  man  of  a  civil 
2,  pradlicai 


286  ON    CIVIL    CONVERSATION^ 

praclical  life,  converfation,  and  the  regu- 
lation of  itj  though  converfant  about  exte- 
riors, finds,  though  not  the  chief,  yet 
certainly  an  eminent  place.  For  of  how 
great  importance  is  the  countenance  and  the 
compofure  of  it :  the  poet  fays  well : 

Nee  viiltu  dcjirue  verba  tuo. 

For  a  man  may  undermine,  and  utterly 
betray  the  force  of  his  words  with  his  coun- 
tenance. Nay,  our  aflions,  as  well  as  words, 
may  likewife  be  deflroyed  by  the  counte- 
nance, if  we  n^tay  believe  Cicero ;  who,-  re- 
commending to  his  brother  affability  towards 
the  Provincials,  faid,  it  did  not  principally 
eohfifl  in  this,  the  giving  eaiV  accefs  to  hi? 
perfon,  unlefs  likewife  he  received  them 
Courteoufly  with  his  very  countenance  :  A7/ 
inter  eft  habere  oft  turn  apertum,  vultum  claujum  : 
*'  It  avails  nothing  to  have  your  door  open, 
"  while  your  countenance  is  fhut."  We 
fee  likewife  j^tticus,  upon  the  firfl  interview 
between  Cicero  and  C^far,  the  war  as  yet  at 
the  height,  did  diligently  and  ferioufly  ad- 
vife  Cicero  by  a  letter,  touching  the  com- 
pofing  of  his  countenance  and  geflure,  to 

dignity 


ON    CIVIL    CONVERSATION.  2S7 

dignity  and  gravity.  Now,  if  the  mannge- 
ment  of  the  face  and  countenance  alone,  be 
of  fuch  eite6l,  how  much  more,  famihar 
fpeech,  and  other  carriage,  belong  to  con- 
verfation  ?  And  indeed  the  fum  and  abridg- 
ment of  the  grace  and  elegance  of  behaviour, 
is  comprifed  moftly  in  this;  the  meafuring 
in  a  juft  balance,  as  it  V\'ere,  and  maintaining 
both  our  own  dignity,  and  that  of  others  : 
which  is  well  expreffed  by  T!  Lh'ius  m  his 
preface:  ''  Left  I  iliould  feem  either  arro- 
*'  gant,  or  fervile:  the  one  is  the  humour 
*'  of  a  man  who  is  forgetful  of  anothers 
<'  liberty;  the  other  of  a  man  that  forgets 
*'  his  own." 

But,  on  the  other  fide,  if  we  ftudy  urbanity, 
andoutward  elegance  of  behaviour  too  rnuch^ 
theypafs  into  a  deformed,  adulterate  attecta- 
tion:  ^id emm  deformun^ quam  fcenam  hi v'ltam 
iransfem?  *'  What  can  be  a  more  deformed 
'*  fpe6lacle,  than  to  transfer  the  fcene  Into 
*'  our  common  courfe  of  life  r"  Further, 
though  they  Ihould  not  flrll  into  that  vicious 
extreme,  yet  too  much  time  is  confumed  in 
thofe   fmall  matters,    and  the  mind  is  de- 

2^  re  fled 


288  ON    CIVIL    CONVERSATION. 

preffed  by  the  immoderate  ftudy  of  them ; 
therefore,  as  m  the  Univerfities  young  ftu" 
dents,  too  much  addided  to  keep  company, 
are  admoniflied  by  their  tutors ;  Amicos 
ejfe  fures  temporh:  "  That  friends  are  the 
"  thieves  of  time :"  fo  certainly  this  fame 
continual  intenfity  of  mind,  upon  the  grace 
of  converfation,  is  a  great  pilferer  of  more 
ferious  meditations.  Again,  fuch  as  are  fo 
exadlly  accomplifhed,  and  feem  formed  by 
nature  for  urbanity,  make  it  their  fole 
ftudy,  and  fcarcely  ever  afpire  after  more 
foHd  and  higher  virtues:  whereas,  on  the 
contrary,  thofe  that  are  confcious  to  them- 
felvesofadefe£lin  this,  feek  comelinefs  from 
a  good  reputation ;  for  where  a  good  reputa- 
tion is,  ahnoft  all  things  are  becoming ;  but 
where  that  fails,  a  fupply  muft  be  fetched 
from  exadnefs  of  behaviour,  and  urbani- 
ty. Again,  there  is  fcarcely  a  greater  or 
more  frequent  impediment  of  a6lion,  than 
an  over- curious  obfervance  of  outward  de- 
corum: and  that  other  attendant  of  it,  a 
fcrupulous  eledion  of  time  and  opportunity: 
for -Sbte??^  fays  excellently :  ^irefpicit^  ad^ 
i§c,  "  He  that  regards  the  wind  fhall  not 

«'  fow: 


ON    CIVIL    CONVERSATION.  28^ 

*'  few:  and  hethat  regards  the  clouds  fhall 
''  not  reap."  For  we  muft  make  opportu- 
nity,  oftiierthaii  wait  for  it.  To  conclude, 
this  graceful  compolltion  of  behaviour  is-,  as 
it  were,  the  drefs  of  the  mind;  and  therefore 
ought  to  refemble  the  good  conditions  of 
drefs:  for  firft,  it  ought  to  be  fafhionable ; 
next,  not  too  curious  or  coftlj;  then,  to  be 
fo  contrived,  as  to  fet  forth  any  good  fhape 
of  the  mind  moft  to  view,  and  to  fupply  and 
hide  any  deformity :  la%,  above"  all,  it 
ought  not  to  be  too  flrait,  nor  fo  to  retrain 
the  fpirit,  as  to  check  and  hinder  the  motions 
thereof  in  bullnefs. 


VOL.  IL  tj 


O  K 


,290      THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE* 


ON      THE 


ARCHITECT  of  his  FORTUNE. 


'TPHERE  is  a  certain  wifdom  of  giving 
counfel  to  others ;  and  there  is  another 
alfo  in  planning  a  man's  own  fortune ;  and 
thefe  fometimes  meet,  but  are  oftener  fe- 
vered. For  many  are  exceeding  wife  in  or- 
dering their  own,  who  are  very  weak  in  the 
adminiilration  of  civil  affairs,  or  givnig  coun- 
fel :  like  the  ant,  which  is  a  wife  creature 
•for  itfelf,  but  very  hurtful  in  a  garden.  This 
virtue  of  being  wife  for  one's  felf,  was  not 
unknown  to  the  Romans  themfelves,  though 
excellent  patriots  :  whence  the  comic  poet : 
*'  Certainly  the  mould  of  a  wife  man's  for- 
*'  tune  is  in  his  own  hands."  Nay,  it  grew 
into  an  adage  with  them,  "  Every  man  is 
*'  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune.". 

This  part  of  knowledge  may  be  rec- 
l?oned  among  the  deficients  :  not  but  that 
k  is  too  frequent  in  pradice,    but  becaufe 

books 


THE  ARCHITECT  OV  HIS  FORTUNE.      29! 

books  concerning  this  argument  are  filent. 
Wherefore  we  will  recite  fome  heads  of  it, 
and  call  it,  the  architect  of  fortune ;  or,  ai 
dodlrine  concerning  the  courfe  of  life  for 
advancement. 

And    at    the  firfl:  view  I  fhall  feem   to 
handle   a   new  and  unufual   argument,    in 
teaching   men  how  they  may  be  contrivers 
of  their  own  fortune:  a  do^ftrine,  no  doubt, 
to  which  every  man  will  willingly  yield  him- 
felf  up  a  difciple,  till  he  thoroughly  fees  the 
difficulty  of  it.     For  the   requilites   to  the 
purchafe  of  a  fortune,  are  neither  lighter  nor 
lefs  difficult,  than  to  the  purchafe  of  virtue : 
and  it  is  as  hard  and  fevere  a  thing  to  be  a 
true  politician,  as  to  be  truly   moral.     But 
the  handling  of  this  doclrine  concerns  greatly 
the  honour  of  learning,  that  men  of  bufinefs 
may  know,   learning  is  not  like  fome  fmali 
bird,  as  the  lark,  to  mount  and  fing,  and 
pleafe  herfelf  only  ;   but  that  fhe  is  a  kind  of 
hawk,   both  to  foar  aloft,  and  opportunely 
floop,    and   feize   her  prey.      Perfection   of 
learning  is  likewife  concerned,  becaufe  it  is 
the  true  rule  of  a  perfe^Sl  enquiry  after  truth, 
that  nothing  be  found  in  the  material,  that 
U  2  has 


zps      THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

has  not  a  parallel  in  the  intellecSlual  world  : 
that  is,  that  there  is  nothing  in  being  and 
a£lion,  which  fliould  not  be  drawn  and  col- 
leifted  into  contemplation  and  dodlrine*  And 
yet  learning  does  not  efleem  this  architec- 
ture of  fortune,  otherwife  than  as  a  work  of 
an  inferior  kind:  for  no  man's  particular 
fortune  can  be  an  end  worthy  of  his  being. 
Nay,  it  often  happens,  that  men  of  excel- 
lent virtues  abandon  their  fortune  of  their 
own  accord,  that  they  may  have  leifure  for 
more  fublime  objedls^ 

Nevertheless  fortune,  as  ihe  is  an  in- 
flrument  of  virtue  and  merit,  deferves  to  be 
confidered  in  her  place,  and  to  have  fome 
inflrudions  given  about  her. 

The  firfl  general  precept  therefore  is,  that 
to  know  others  we  procure  to  ourfelves,  in 
a  pofTible  degree,  that  window  which  Momus 
once  required ;  who  feeing  in  the  frame  of 
man's  heart  fo  many  angles  andreceffes,  found 
fault  that  there  was  not  a  window,  through 
which  a  man  might  look  into  thofe  obfcur® 
and  crooked  windings.  This  we  (hall  obtain, 
if  with  all  diligence  we  purchafe  and  procure 

%  to 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     29^ 

to  ourfelves  information  touching  the  parti- 
cular perfons  with  whom  we  ncgociate;  as 
alfo  of  their  natures,  defires,  and  ends  ;  their 
cuftoms  and  fafhions ;  their  helps  and  advan- 
tages, whereby  they  are  chiefly  fupported, 
and  are  ftrong  and  powerful :  likewife  of 
their  defe6ls  and  weaknefles,  and  in  what 
part  they  lie  moft  open  and  obnoxious ;  of 
their  friends,  fadlions,  patrons,  dependen- 
cies :  and  again,  of  their  enemies,  enviers, 
competitors;  as  alfo  their  times,  and  feafons 
of  accefs : 

Sola  vlrl  moUes  ad'itus  et  tempora  noras. 

VlRG.^N.   IV. 

"  You  only  know  what  time  is  beft, 

**  To  move  the  haughty  foe  with  my  requeft." 

Lauderdale. 

Lastly,  the  principles  and  rules  which 
they  have  fet  down  to  themfeives.  Further, 
information  is  to  be  taken,  not  only  of  per- 
fons, but  of  particular  actions  alfo,  which 
from  time  to  time  are  on  foot,  and  as  it  were 
upon  the  anvil ;  how  they  are  conducted  and 
fucceed;  by  whofe  endeavours  they  are  fur- 
thered ;  by  whom  they  are  oppofed  ;  of  what 
U  3  weight 


294     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

weight  and  moment  they  are;  and  what 
may  be  their  confequence,  and  the  like.  For 
the  knowledge  of  prefent  anions  is  both  very 
material  in  itfelf,  and  carries  in  it  this  alfo, 
that  without  it  the  knowledge  of  perfons  too, 
is  like  to  be  very  deceitful  and  erroneous: 
for  men  change  with  their  actions ;  and  are 
one  thing,  while  they  are  engaged  and  en- 
vironed with  bufinefs;  and  another,  when 
they  return  to  their  nature. 

And  that  fuch  knowledge  may  be  com- 
pared, Solomon  is  our  furety,  who  fays: 
"  Counfel  in  the  heart  of  man  is  like  a  deep 
*'  water ;  but  a  wife  man  will  draw  it  out :" 
And  although  the  knowledge  itfelf  fall  not 
under  precept,  becaufe  it  is  of  individuals, 
yet  general  inftruclions  may  be  given  with 
fuccefs. 

The  knowledge  of  men  may  be  deduced 
from  their  faces  and  countenances,  words, 
-actions,  tempers,  and  ends:  laftly,  from  the 
relations  of  others. 

As  for  the  countenance,  let  not  the  an^ 
pieiit  adage   move   us;     Fronti  nulla  fides: 

**  There's 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     295 

*'  There's  no  trufl  to  be  given  to  the  couii- 
*'  tenance:'*  for  although  this  faying  may 
bejuft,  touching  the  outward  and  general 
compofure  of  the  countenance  and  gefture; 
yet  there  are  certain  fecret  and  more  fubtle 
motions  and  labours  of  the  eyes,  face,  looks, 
and  behaviour,  by  which,  as  ^.  Cicero  ele- 
gantly faith,  "  the  gate  of  the  mind"  is,  in 
a  manner,  unlocked  and  opened. 

As  for  mens  words,  they  are  flattering  and 
fcillacious;  yet  they  exprefs  their  true  fenti- 
mentwhen  uttered,  either  by  furprife,  or  in 
a  paflion  :  fo  Tiberius,  being  fuddenly  moved 
and  carried  aw^ay  a  little,  by  a  flinging  fpeech 
oi  Agrlpplna,  came  a  ftep  out  of  his  innate 
fimulation  :  "  Thefe  words,"  faid  Tacitus^ 
"  being  heard  by  him,  drew  from  his  dark 
"  breafl;  fuch  words  as  he  ufed  feldom  to  let 
"  fall :  and  taking  her  up  Iharply,  he  told 
"  her  her  own  in  a  verfe;  that  fhe  was 
"  therefore  hurt,  becaufe  fhc  did  not  reign." 
Wherefore  the  poet  does  not  improperly  call 
fuch  pailions  tortures,  becaufe  they  urge  men 
to  confefs  their  fecrets : 

U  4.  Vm9 


^96      THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE, 

Vino  tortus  et  Ira  : 

*'    Rack'd  by  wine  and  anger.'* 

Indeed  experience  itfelf  fhews,  that  there 
are  very  few  men  fo  true  to  themlelves,  and 
fo  fettled  in  their  refolutions,  but  that  fome- 
times  from  heat  of  pallion,  oflentation,  en- 
tire good-will  to  a  friend,  weaknefs  of  mind, 
that  can  no  loncrerhold  out  under  the  weiirht 
of  thought ;  laitlj,  from  fome  other  affec- 
tion and  pafiion,  they  will  reveal  and  com- 
municate their  inmoll:  thoughts.  But  above 
all,  it  founds  the  mind  to  the  bottom,  and 
fearches  all  its  folds,  when  fimulation  is  at- 
tacked by  a  counter  fimulation  ;  according 
to  the  fpanilli  proverb,  "  Tell  a  lie,  and 
««  iind  a  truth." 

Neither  are  deeds  themfelves,   though 

they  are  the  furefl  pledges  of  mens  minds, 

altogether  to  be  trufled,  without  a  diligent 

and  judicious  confideration,  both  of  their  fize 

and  nature.     For   the  faying  is  moft  true: 

*'   Fraud  erecls  itfelf  credit  in  fmaller  mat- 

*'  ters,  that  it   may  cheat  with   better    ad-^ 

*'  vantage  afterwards/* 

But 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 


297 


But  the  furefl:  key  to  unlock  the  mhids 
of  men,  turns  in  fearching  and  gettmg  tho- 
roughly acquainted,  either  with  their  difpo- 
fitions  and  natures,  or  their  ends  and  inten- 
tions :  and  certainly  the  weaker  and  more 
funple  fort  of  men  are  befl  interpreted  by 
their  natures;  but  the  wifer  and  more  re- 
ferved  are  beft  expounded  by  their  ends. 
Certainly  it  is  a  frequent  errror,  and  very 
familiar  with  wife  men,  to  meafure  other 
men  by  the  model  of  their  own  abihties,  and 
fo  often  times  to  over-fhoot  the  mark,  by 
fuppofmg  men  to  projecl  and  defign  to  them- 
felves  deeper  ends,  and  to  praclife  more 
iubtlearts,  than  ever  came  into  their  heads: 
which  the  Italian  proverb  elegantly  notes, 
faying  :  ''  That  there  is  commonly  lefs  mo- 
"  ney,  lefs  wifdom,  lefs  honefly,  than  men 
*'  reckon  upon."  Wherefore,  if  we  are  to 
deal  with  men  of  a  mean  and  {hallow  capa- 
city, the  conjeclure  mull  be  taken  from  the 
propenfities  of  their  nature,  rather  than  from 
the  ends  they  may  aim  at.  Further,  princes 
alio,  from  a  different  reafon,  are  befl:  judged 
of  by  their  natures;  and  private  perfons  by 
their  ends.  For  princes,  being  at  the  top 
of  human  defires,  have  commonly  no  parti- 
cular 


2c}S    [the  architect  of  his  fortune. 

ticular  ends  whereto  they  afpire,   efpecially 
with  vehemence  and  perfeverance;    by  the 
iite  and  diftance  of  which,   a  direction    and 
fcale  of  the  reft  of  their  actions  may  be  taken 
and  made;  which  is  one  of  the  chief  caufes 
that  their  hearts,  as  the  fcripture  pronounces, 
are  inferutable.     But  private  perfons  are  hke 
travellers,  who  have   in  view  fome  end  of 
their  journey,  where  they  may  flay  and  reft ; 
from  whence  a  man  may  make  a  good  con- 
jecture, what  they  will,  or  will  not  do.    For 
it  is  probable,  they  will  do  nothing  but  what 
conduces  to  their  ends :   neither  is  the  infor- 
mation touching  the  diverfity  of  mens  ends 
and  natures  to  be  taken  only  fimply,  but 
comparatively  alfo;  as  what  has  the  predo^ 
minancy  and  command  over  the  reft;  fowe 
fee   l^igellinus,    when    he    faw    himfelf  out- 
ftripped    by   Petron'ms  'TurpUianus   in    admi- 
niftering  and  fuggefting  pleafures  to   Nero^ 
*'  fearched    into  NerSs   fears,"     as   Tacitus 
fays,  and  by  this  means  broke  the  neck  of 
his  rival. 

As  for  the  knowing  of  mens  minds,  by 
the  relations  of  others,  it  ftiail  fuffice  to  ob- 
ferve,  that  defeats  and  faults  are  beft  learned 

from 


1 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.       299 

from  enemies ;  virtues  and  abilities  from 
friends;  cuftoms  and  tim,es  from  fervants; 
notions  and  ftudies  from  intimate  confidants, 
with  whom  they  moil:  commonly  difcourfe : 
popular  fame  is  light,  and  the  judgments  of 
fuperiors  uncertain:  "  the  truefl:  reports 
*'  come  from  domeflics."  But  the  mofl 
compendious  way  to  this  whole  enquiry  is, 
firft,  to  have  a  general  acquaintance  and  in- 
timacy with  fuch  men  as  hav^e  looked  mofl 
into  the  world,  and  have  a  general  know- 
ledge of  things  and  perfons ;  but  efpecially 
to  endeavour  to  have  privacy  and  converfa- 
tion  with  foiTie  particular  friends,  who,  ac- 
cording to  the  diveriity  of  bufinefs  and  per- 
fons, are  able  to  give  us  fohd  information, 
and  good  intelligence  in  every  feveral  kind. 
Secondly,  to  keep  a  good  mediocrity,  both 
in  liberty  of  fpeech,  and  taciturnity :  in  mofl 
things  liberty;  taciturnity,  where  there  is 
occafion.  For  liberty  of  fpeech,  by  inviting 
and  provoking  liberty  to  be  ufed  again, 
brings  much  to  a  man's  knowledge ;  and  fe- 
crecy,  on  the  other  fide,  induces  trufl  and 
intimacy,  and  makes  men  love  to  lay  up 
their  fecrets  with  us,  as  in  a  clofet.  Laflly, 
the  reducing  of  a  man's  felf  to  fuch  a  watch- 
ful 


300      THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE," 

fill  and  ferene  habit,  as  in  all  conferences 
and  a6lions  both  to  carry  on  the  matter  in 
hand,  and  at  the  fame  time  to  obferve  other 
tilings  that  fidl  in  by  the  bye :  for  as  Epic- 
tetus  would  have  a  philofopher,  in  every  par- 
ticular aftion,  fay  to  himfelf,  "  I  will  do 
''  this,  and  yet  go  on  in  my  courfe:'*  fo  a 
politician,  in  every  particular  bufniefs,  fhould 
fay  to  himfelf,  "  I  both  intend  to  do  this, 
*Sand  to  learn  fomewhat  elfe  which  may  be 
*«  of  ufe  for  the  future.'*  And  therefore 
thofe  men  that  over-do  the  thing  in  hand, 
and  are  entirely  taken  up  with  the  prefent 
bufmefs,  without  fo  much  as  thinking  of 
matters  that  intervene,  (a  weaknefs  that 
Montaigne  confefTes  in  himfelf)  are  indeed 
the  befl  minifters  of  princes,  but  fail  in  point 
of  their  own  fortune.  I  have  dwelt  the 
longer  upon  this  precept  of  obtaining  good 
information,  becaufe  it  is  a  main  part  of  it- 
felf,  and  anfwers  to  all  the  reft.  But  above 
all  things,  caution  muft  be  taken,  that  men 
have  a  good  government  of  themfelves,  and 
that  this  knowing  much,  do  not  draw  on  an 
impertinent  officioufnefs :  for  nothing  is; 
more  unfortunate  than  light  and  rafh  inter- 
meddling in    many  matters:    fo    that   this 

various 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.      30I 

various  knowledge  of  things  and  perfons, 
which  we  advife  to  be  procured,  tends  in 
conclulion  but  to  this  :  to  make  a  more  ju- 
dicious choice  both  of  thofe  adlions  we  under- 
take, and  of  thofe  perfons  whofe  affiflance 
we  ufe;  that  fo  we  may  know  how  to  con- 
dud  all  things  with  more  dexterity,  and  lefs 
error. 

After  the  knowledge  of  others  follows 
the  knowledge  of  ourfelves.  For  no  lefs  di- 
ligence, but  rather  more  is  to  be  ufed  in 
taking  a  true  and  exacl  information  of  our- 
felves, than  of  others :  for  that  oracle,  "  Know 
''  yourfelf,''  is  not  only  a  rule  of  univerfal 
prudence,  but  has  alfo  a  fpecial  place  in  po- 
litics. For  St.  James  excellently  puts  us  in 
mind,  "  That  he  that  hath  viewed  his  face 
"  in  a  glafs,  yet  inflantly  forgets  what 
"  manner  of  man  he  was:"  fo  that  there  Is 
great  need  of  a  frequent  in fpecllon :  and  the 
fame  holds  alfo  in  politics ;  but  the  o-laffes 
indeed  are  different :  for  the  divine  one,  in 
which  we  ought  to  behold  ourfelves,  is  the 
word  of  God  ;  but  the  politic  glafs  is  nothing 
elfe  but  the  flate  of  things  and  times  wherein 
we  live. 

There- 


302      THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

Therefore  a  man  ought  to  take  an  im- 
partial view,  unprejudiced  by  felf-love,  of 
his  own  abilities,  virtues,  and  fupports ;  as 
likewife  of  hjs  defedls,  inabilities,  and  impe- 
diments ;  eftimating  the  latter  at  the  moft, 
the  former  at  the  leafl.  And  from  fuch  a 
view  and  difquifition,  the  following  points 
may  come  into  confideration. 

The  firfl  confideration  fhould  be,  how  a 
man's  conftitution  and  temper  fuits  with 
the  times  ;  which  if  they  be  found  agreeable 
and  fit,  then  in  all  things  he  may  give  him- 
felf  more  fcope  and  liberty,  and  indulge  his 
own  temper;  but  if  there  are  any  antipathy 
and  diffonancy,  then,  in  the  whole  courfe  of 
his  life,  he  muft  carry  himfelf  more  cauti- 
oufly  and  refervedly,  and  appear  lefs  in  pub- 
lic. So  did  Tiberius,  who  being  confcious  to 
himfelf  that  his  temper  did  not  agree  very 
well  with  the  times,  was  never  feen  at  public 
plays  :  nay,  for  the  lafl  twelve  years  fuccef- 
fively,  he  came  not  into  the  fenate :  but,  on 
the  other  fide,  Augujlm  lived  in  mens  eyes; 
which  'Tacitus  alfo  obferves :  Alia  Tiherio  mo- 
rum  via:  "  But  Tiberius  was  of  another  hu- 

<'  mour." 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.      303 

"  mour."     The  fame  method  he  took  alio 
to  fecure  himfelf  from  dangers. 

Let  the  fecond  confideration  be,  how  a 
man's  nature  fuits  the  profeffions  and  courfes 
of  life  which  are  in  ufe  and  efteem,  and  out 
of  which  he  is  to  make  his  choice;  that  fo, 
if  he  be  not  refolved  upon  any  w^ay  of  life, 
he  may  chufe  that  which  is  moll:  £t  and 
agreeable  to  his  natural  difpofition  ;  but  if 
he  be  already  engaged  in  a  condition  of  life, 
to  which  he  is  not  fo  well  fitted  by  nature, 
let  him  witlidraw  on  the  firH:  occafion,  and 
take  another  profcfTion,  as  w^e  fee  was  done 
by  Duke  Falentme,  who  was  bred  by  his  fa- 
ther to  a  facerdotal  profeffion,  which  after- 
wards, in  compliance  with  the  bent  of  his 
nature,  he  renounced,  and  applied  himfelf 
to  a  military  life;  though  equally  unworthy 
the  dignity  both  of  prince  and  priefl,  fince 
the  peftilent  man  was  a  dilgrace  to  both. 

Let  the  third  confideration  be,  how  a 
man  ftands  in  comparifon  with  his  equals 
and  rivals,  who. are  like  to  be  the  competi- 
tors of  his  fortune  ;  and  let  him  run  that 
courfe  of  life,  wherein  there  is  the  greateft 

foli- 


304     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  UlS  FORTUNE. 

folitude,  and  in  which  he  himfelf  is  like  to  be 
moil  eminent :  as  Julius  Ccefar  did,  who  at 
firfl  was  an  orator  and  pleader,  and  was  chiefly 
converfant  in  the  arts  of  peace ;  but  when 
he  faw  Cicero,  Horte?iJius,  and  Catulus  excel 
in  the  glory  of  eloquence,  and  no  man  very 
famous  for  military  affairs  but  Pompey^he  for- 
fook  the  courfe  he  began,  and  bidding  a  fare- 
well to  civil  and  popular  greatnefs,  went  over 
to  the  military  and  imperatorial  arts,  by 
which  he  afccnded  to  the  top  of  fovereignty. 

The  fourth  confideration  is,  that  in  the 
choice  of  friends  and  dependants  a  man  con- 
fult  his  own  nature  and  difpofition  ;  for 
different  kinds  of  friends  fuits  different  per- 
fons  :  the  folemn  and  fecret  kind  fome ;  the 
bold  and  boafting  others.  Certainly  it  is 
worth  obferving,  what  kind  of  friends 
Julius  Ca'far\  were  ;  Anthony,  Hirtius,  Panfa, 
Oppius,  Balbus,  Dolobelia,  Pollio,  and  the  reft. 
Thefe  men  had  this  form  of  fwearing :  *'  So 
''  may  I  die  while  C^far  lives:"  fhewing 
an  infinite  affection  to  d^far ;  towards  others 
arrogant  and  contemptuous;  and  they  were 
men,  ftrenuous  in  bufmefs,  but  in  fame  and 
reputation  nothing  extraordinary. 

Thk 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     305 

The  fifth   confideration  is,    that  a  man 
take  heed  how  he  guides  himfelf  by  exam- 
ple; and  that   he   do  not  fondly    alTe(fl  the 
imitation  of  others ;  as  if  that  which  others 
can  go  through  muft  needs    be  as   open  to 
him,  never  confidering  with  himfelf  what 
difference,  perhaps,  there  is,  between  his  and 
their  natures,  whom   he  has  chofen  for  his 
pattern.     This  was  manifeftly  Pompey^s  er- 
ror, who,  as  Cicero  records,  was  wont  to  fay, 
"  Sylla  could  do  this,  and  cannot  I  r"  Where- 
in he  deceived  himfelf  greatly,    the  natures 
and  proceedings   of  Sylla  and  himfelf,  being 
the  mofi:  unlike  in  the  world  :  the  one  being 
fierce,  violent,  and  ever  prefTmg  the   fact; 
the  other,  folemn,    regardful  of  the  laws, 
directing  all  to  majefly  and  fame ;  and  there- 
fore  the   lefs   efFe6lual   and  powerful  to  go 
through  with  his  defigns.     There  are  more 
precepts  of  this  nature ;  but  thefe  fhall  ixi^- 
fice  for  example  to  the  reft. 

Nor  is  the  knowing  of  a  man's  felf  fuf- 
ficient,  but  he  muft  alfo  confult  with  him- 
felf, how  he  may  cleverly  and  prudently  {itt 
forth  and  reveal  himfelf;  and  in  fine,  turn, 
wind,    and    fafhion    himfelf    to    all   occa-; 

Vol.  II.  X  fions. 


306      THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

fions.     As  for  the  fetting  himfelf  forth,  we 
fee  nothing  more  ufual,  than  for  the  lefs  able 
man  to  make   the  greater    fhew:     therefore 
it  is  no  fmall  gift  of  prudence  for  a  man  to  be 
able  to  fet  himfelf  forth  with  a  kind  of  art 
and   gracefulnefs,  by   aptly  difplaying   his 
virtues,  merits,  and  fortune  alfo,  as  far  as 
may    be  done    without    arrogance   or    fa- 
tiety ;  and   again,   in   the  artificial  covering 
of  his  weakneffes,  defedls,  misfortunes,  and 
difgraces ;  dwelling  upon  the  latter,  and  pre- 
fenting  them  in  the  ftrongeft  light :  excufing 
the  former,  or  cancelling  them  by  fome  art- 
ful conftruclion.     Therefore  Tacitus  fays  of 
Mucianus^  who  was  the  greateft  politician  of 
his  time,  and  the  mofl  indefatigable  in  bufi- 
nefs;    Omnium  qua  diceret  atque  ageret,    arte 
quadam  ojlentator\    "  He  was  one  that  had 
*'  the  art  to  make  the  mofl  fhew  of  what- 
**  ever  he  fpoke  or  did.     This  affair  requires 
indeed  fome  art,   that  it  may  not  occafioa 
difgufh    and     contempt.      Some     kind     of 
oftentation,  however  vain,   feems   rather  a 
vice  in  morals,  than  in  politics:   for  as  it  is. 
vfually  faid  of  (lander,     "  Slander  boldly, 
<'  fomewhat  ever  flicks;"  fo  may  it  be  faid 
Qf  oflentation,   iinlefs  it  be  in  a  ridiculous 

degree 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     307 

degree  of  deformity,  boaft  ftoutly,  fome  im- 
preffion  will  be  left :  it  will  certainly,  with 
the  people,  though  the  wifer  fraile  at  it: 
therefore  reputation  won  with  the  majo- 
rity, will  eafily  countervail  the  difdain  of  a 
few.  Now  if  this  oftentation  of  a  man's 
felf  is  managed  with  decency  and  difcre- 
tion ;  for  example,  if  it  carries  the  appear- 
ance of  a  native  candor  and  ingenuity  ;  or 
if  it  be  ufed  at  times  either  of  danger,  as  by 
military  perfons  in  time  of  war,  or  when 
others  are  much  envied ;  or  if  the  words 
which  refpe£l  a  man's  own  praife  feem  to 
fall  from  him  as  a  thing  not  principally  in- 
tended, and  without  either  infixing  ferioufly, 
or  dwelling  too  long  upon  them ;  or  if  a  man 
at  the  fame  time  blend  cenfure  and  raillery 
with  the  praife  of  himfelf;  or  finally,  if  he 
do  it  not  of  himfelf,  but  compelled  by  the 
infolence  and  contumelies  of  others  ;  it  cer- 
tainly makes  a  great  addition  to  a  man's 
reputation  :  and  furely  there  are  not  a  few, 
who,  being  more  folid  by  nature,  and  con- 
fequently  wanting  this  art  of  hoifting  fails 
to  their  honour,  fufFer  for  their  modefly  by 
ibme  lofs  of  reputation. 

X2  Bur 


308      THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE^ 

But  though  fome  of  weaker  judgment, 
and  perhaps  too   moral,   may  dilallow  this 
oftentation  of  virtue;    no  man  will   deny, 
but  we  fhou'ld  endeavour  at  leaft,  that  virtue 
may  not  through  negled  lofe  its  value ;  which 
will  arlfe  from  three  caufes :    firft,   when   a 
man  offers  and  obtrudes  himfelf  and  fervicc 
in  matters  of  bufuiefs  unfolicited ;   for  fuch 
offices  are   thought  rewarded,    if  accepted. 
Secondly,  when  a  man  in  the  beginning  of  a 
bufinefs  exerts  himfelf  immoderately,  and 
by  doing  too  much,  will  not  give  that  which 
is  well  done  leave  to  fettle ;  which  wins  an 
early  commendation,  but  in  the  end  produces 
fatiety.    Thirdly, when  a  man  is  too  quickly 
and    lightly   fenfible    of    the  fruit  of    his 
virtue,    being    too    much    elated   with   the 
praife,  applaufe,  honour,  and  favour  yielded 
him;  for  which  there  is  a  good  piece  of  ad- 
vice :  "  Beware  left  you  fee m  unacquainted 
«'  with  great  matters,  that  are  thus  pleafed 
^^  with  afmall  matter,  as  if  it  were  great." 

But  in  truth,    a  diligent  covering  of  de-^ 

fe£ls  is  of  no  lefs  importance,  than  a  difcreet 

and  dexterous  oftentatlon  of  virtues;  which 

i^  effedled   by  caution,   colour,  and  confi- 

I  dence. 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     309 

dencci  Caution  is,  when  we  prudently  keep 
ofF  from  thofe  things  to  which  we  are  not  e- 
qual :  whereas  bold  and  unquiet  fpirlts'will  be 
thruiling  themfelves,  without  judgment, 
into  matters  that  they  are  not  ufed  to,  and 
fo  publifh  and  proclaim  their  own  defe6lSo 
Colour  is,  when  we  fagaciouily  and  wifely 
prepare  and  make  way  to  have  a  favourable 
and  commodious  conftrutlion  made  of  our 
faults  and  defedls,  as  proceeding  from  ano- 
ther caufe,  or  tending  to  fome  other  purpofe 
than  is  generally  conceived.  For  as  to  the 
covers  of  faults  the  poet  fays  well :  "  Many 
*'  times  a  vice  lies  hid  by  its  nearnefs  to  a 
"  virtue."  Wherefore  if  we  perceive  a  de- 
feat in  ourfelves,  our  endeavour  muft  be  to 
borrow  the  perfon  and  colour  of  the  next 
bordering  virtue,  under  whofe  fhadow  it  may 
be  concealed :  for  inftance ;  he  that  is  dull, 
mufl  pretend  gravity ;  he  that  is  a  coward, 
rnildnefs;  and  fo  for  thereft.  This  alfo  is 
of  ufe,  to  pretend  fome  plaufible  caufe,  that 
mduced  us  to  forbear  doing  our  beft,  and 
exerting  our  ntmoft  ftrength  ;  that  fo,  what 
is  not  in  our  power  may  feem  not  to  be  in 
our  will  to  do.  As  for  confidence,  it  is  in- 
deed an  impudent,  but  yet  the  fureft  and 
X  3  mod 


JiO     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE* 

mofl  efFe(£lual  remedy  :  namely,  for  a  man 
to  profefs  to  defpife,  and  to  fet  at  nought, 
what  in  truth  he  is  not  able  to  attain  ;  ac- 
cording to  the  principle  of  wife  merchants, 
with  whom  it  is  familiar  to  raife  the  price 
of  their  own  commodities,  and  to  beat  down 
that  of  others.  But  there  is  yet  another  kind 
of  confidence,  even  more  impudent  than 
this;  which  is,  to  face  out  a  man's  own 
defeds,  to  boaft  of  and  obtrude  them  upon 
opinion,  as  if  he  conceived  that  he  was  befl 
in  thofe  things  wherein  he  moft  fails;  and 
in  order  to  put  this  cheat  upon  others  the 
more  eafily,  to  pretend  a  diffidence  of  him- 
felf  in  thofe  things,  wherein,  in  truth,  he  is 
beft,  as  we  fee  in  the  poets ;  for  a  poet  re- 
citing his  verfes,  if  you  except  any  particu- 
lar verfe,  he  will  prefently  fay;  '*  And  yet 
''  this  line  coft  me  more  labour  than  any  of 
"  the  reft.'*  And  then  he  will  bring  you 
fome  other  line,  as  though  he  fufpedled  that 
himfelf,  and  afk  your  judgment  of  it,  which 
yet  he  knows  well  enough  to  be  the  beft  in 
the  number,  and  liable  to  no  exception  at 
all.  But  above  all,  as  to  the  prefent  bufinefs 
of  fetting  the  faireft  glofs  upon  himfelf  be- 
fore others,  and  maintaining  his  right  in  all 

points. 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     3H 

points,  nothing,  in  my  judgment,  avails 
more,  than  for  a  man  not  to  difarm  and  ex- 
pofe  himfelf  to  injuries  and  contumehes,  by 
an  exceffive  goodnefs  and  fweetnefs  of  na- 
ture ;  but  rather  in  all  things  to  fhoot  out 
now  and  then  fome  fparks  of  a  fpirit  free 
and  generous,  and  carrying  with  it  as  much 
fling  as  honey :  which  kind  of  fortified  car- 
riage, together  with  a  prompt  and  prepared 
refolution  to  vindicate  himfelf  from  affronts, 
is  impreffed  upon  fome  men  by  accident, 
and  a  kind  of  inevitable  neceflity,  by  reafoii 
offomewhat  inherent  in  their  perfon  or  for- 
tune ;  as  it  happens  in  deformed  perfons  and 
baftards,  and  in  perfons  any  way  difgraced  ; 
upon  which  account  fuch  men,  if  they  do 
not  want  virtue,  are  commonly  fuccefsful. 

As  for  the  declaring  of  a  man's  felf, 
that  is  a  far  different  thing  from  the  often- 
tation  of  it ;  for  it  refers  not  to  mens  vir- 
tues or  defedts,  but  to  the  particular  ac- 
tions of  life ;  in  which  point  nothing  is  more 
politic  than  to  obferve  a  wife  and  difcreet 
mean  in  difclofing  or  concealing  our  thoughts 
touching  particular  adions :  for  although 
profound  fecrecy,  and  concealing  of  coun- 
X  4  fels, 


312     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

fels,  and  that  manner  of  managing  bufinefs, 
which  works  all  in  the  dark,  be  a  thing  fome- 
times  moflprofperouSjand  to  be  admired  ;  yet 
it  often  happens,  that  diflimulation  begets  er- 
rors, and  enfnares  the  difl'embler  himfelf. 
For  we  fee  the  greateft  politicians  that  ever 
were,  have  made  no  fcruple  of  profeffing  freer 
ly,  and  without  diffimulation,  the  ends  they 
aimed  at.  Thus  L.  Sylla  openly  declared, 
*'  That  he  wifhed  all  men  happy  or  unhap- 
"  py,  as  they  were  his  friends  or  enemies." 
So  Ccefar^  when  he  firfl  went  into  Gaul^  bold- 
ly profefled,  "  That  he  had  rather  be  iirft 
*'  in  an  obfcure  village,  than  fecond  at 
**  RomeT  The  fame  Cafar^  when  the  war 
was  now  begun,  did  not  play  the  dilTembler, 
if  we  hearken  to  what  Cicero  reports  of  him : 
"  The  other  (meaning  Cajar)  refufes  not ; 
*'  nay  in  a  manner  requires  to  be  called, 
"  what  he  is,  a  tyrant."  In  like  manner 
we  fee  in  a  letter  of  Cicero  to  Atticus^  how 
far  from  a  diffembler  Augujius  Cdsjar  was ; 
who,  in  his  very  entrance  upon  affairs,  when 
he  was  the  darling  of  the  fenate,  neverthe- 
lefs  was  wont  in  his  harangues  to  the  people 
to  fwear  in  this  form :  "  So  may  I  attain  the 

*'  honours 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     -^12 

«'  honours  of  my  father:"  and  this  was  no 
kfs  than  tyranny  itfelf.  It  is  true,  to  abate 
the  envy  of  it  a  little,  he  ufed  at  the  fame 
time  to  flretch  forth  his  hand  to  a  flatue  of 
Julius  Co'fars,  which  was  ereaed  in  the 
Roftra:  and  men  laughing  and  wondering 
faid,  "  Is  it  poffible?  Or  did  you  ever  hear 
"  the  like?"  and  yet  thought  he  meant  no 
hurt,  he  did  it  fo  handfomely  and  ingenu- 
ouily.  And  thefe  were  profperous  in  all  their 
doings.  Pompey,  on  the  other  fide,  who 
tended  to  the  fame  ends  by  ways  more  fhaded 
and  obfcure,  as  Tacitus  fays  of  him  :  ''  More 
''  fecret,  but  nothing  better:"  and  Salluft 
concurs  in  the  fame  charge;  "  Of  a  modefl: 
''  countenance,  but  an  immodell:  mind;'* 
made  it  liis  entire  bufniefs  by  infinite  ftratL 
gems,  deeply  hiding  his  defires  and  ambi- 
tion, to  reduce  the  republic  in  the  mean  time 
to  anarchy  and  confufion  ;  to  the  end  ihe 
might,  of  neceffity,  caftherfelf  into  his  arms, 
and  fo  the  fovereign  power  be  devolved, upon 
him  againft  his  will,  in  appearance,  and  en- 
deavours to  the  contrary.  And  when'  he 
thought  he  had  gained  his  point,  by  beino- 
made  Conful  alone,  of  which  there  was  no 
precedent,  he  was  not  the  nearer;  fortius 

realbn, 


314      THE   ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE, 

reafon,  becnufe  thofe  that,  without  a  doubt, 
would  have  co-operated  with  him,  under- 
ftood  him  not :  fo  that  he  was  forced  in  the 
end  to  go  the  beaten  and  common  track  of 
getting  arms  and  an  army  into  his  hands, 
under  colour  of  oppofing  defar.  So  flow, 
cafual,  hazardous,  and  commonly  unfortu- 
nate are  thofe  counfels  which  are  covered 
with  profound  diffimulation !  And  'Tacitus 
feems  to  have  been  of  the  fame  fentiment  in 
this  matter,  when  he  determines  the  artifice 
of  Emulation  to  be  a  wifdom  of  an  inferior 
form,  in  compaiifon  of  political  arts,  at- 
tributing thofe  to  Tiberius y  thefe  to  Augujlus 
C(^Jar :  for  fpeaking  of  Livia^  he  faith  thus  : 
*'  That  fhd  was  a  good  compofition  of  the 
*'  arts  of  her  hulband,  and  the  fimulation 
*'  of  her  fon."  For  furely  the  continual 
habit  of  diffimulation  is  but  a  weak  and 
fluggifh  cunning,  and  not  greatly  politic. 

As  to  the  bending  and  fafhioning  of  the 
mind,  we  mufl  indeed  endeavour  with  all 
our  might,  that  the  mind  be  made  pliant 
and  obedient  to  occafions  and  opportunities, 
and  that  it  be  not  any  way  ftifF  or  refractory 
towards  them.     For  nothing  is  a  greater 

hin- 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 


SIS 


hindrance  to  bufinefs,  or  to  the  eftablifhing 
of  mens  fortune,  than  this:  IJem  manebatj 
neque  idem  decebat:  that  is,  when  men  con- 
tinue the  fame,  and  follow  their  own  bent, 
though  occalions  are  changed :  therefore 
hlvy^  when  he  brings  in  Cato-Major  as  the 
mofl  expert  architect  of  his  fortune,  does 
well  to  annex  this,  that  he  had  a  verfatile 
wit,  which  he  could  command  and  turn  any 
way  :  and  hence  it  is,  that  grave  and  folem.n 
wits,  and  fuch  as  cannot  change,  have  ge- 
nerally more  dignity  than  felicity.  But 
this  weaknefs  is  implanted  in  fome  men  by 
nature,  being  of  themfelves  difpofed  to  be 
vifcous  and  knotty,  and  unapt  to  turn :  in 
others  it  has  obtained  by  cuftom,  which  is 
a  fecond  nature,  and  from  a  conceit,  which 
eahly  fteals  into  mens  minds,  that  they 
ought  by  no  means  to  change  a  courfe  of 
a£ling,  which  they  have  found  good  and 
profperous  by  former  experience.  For  Ma- 
chiavel  notes  wifely  in  Fabius  Maxinms^  that 
he  was  for  keeping  tooth  and  nail  to  his  old 
inveterate  cuftom  of  delaying  and  protradling 
the  war,  when  the  nature  of  the  war  was 
altered,  and  required  brilkermeafures.  Again, 
in  others  the  lame  weaknefs  proceeds  from 

want 


^l6     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

want  of  judgment;  when  men  do  not  dlA 
cern  in  time  the  periods  of  things  and  ac- 
tions, but  turn  too  late,  when  the  opportu- 
nity is  flipped.  Some  liich  thing  as  this  Dc- 
mojihenes  reprehends  in  his  Athenians^  faying, 
•*  That  they  are  like  country  fellows  playing 
**  in  a  fencing- fchool,  who  after  they  have 
*'  received  a  blow,  turn  their  fliield  to  the 
*'  guard  of  that  part  where  they  were  flruckj 
*'  and  not  before*"  In  others  again  this 
comes  to  pals,  becaufe  they  are  loth  to  lofe 
the  labour  taken  in  that  way  they  iiave  onc6 
entered  into,  nor  do  they  know  how  to  found 
a  retreat ;  but  rather  trufl  to  get  the  better 
of  occafions  by  their  perfeverance  :  and  yet 
in  the  end,  when  they  fee  no  other  remedy^ 
then  they  come  to  it  with  difadvantage. 

There  are  fome  particular  precepts  con- 
ducive to  this  end:  thefirfl,  that  this  archi- 
te6l  of  ills  fortune  Ihould  accuflom  his  mind^ 
to  eftimate  and  rate  the  price  and  value  of 
things,  in  proportion  as  they  conduce,  more 
or  lefs,  to  his  particular  fortune  and  ends; 
and  that  he  do  this  fubflantially,  and  not 
fuperficially.  For  wc  fliail  find  the  logical 
part  of  fome  mens  minds  good,  but  the  ma^ 

thema- 


THE  ARCHITECT   OF  HIS  FORTUNE.      317 

thematlcal  part  erroneous  :  that  is,  they  can 
well  judge  of  confequences,  but  not  of  pro- 
portions and  comparifon ;  preferring  things 
of  fhew  and  fenfe  before  things  of  fubftance 
and  effe^l.     So  fome  fall  in  love  with  accefs 
to  princes,    others  with  popular   fame  and 
applaufe,  fuppoling  they  are  things  of  great 
purchafe,  when  in  many  cafes  they  are  but 
matters  of  envy,  peril,  and  impediment.     So 
fome  meafure  things  according  to  the  labour 
and  difficulty,  or  afiiduity,  which  are  fpent 
about    them ;    and  think   if  they   are   ever 
moving,  that  they  muft  needs  advance  and 
proceed:    as  Ccefar  faid  contemptuoufly  of 
Cato  UticenfiSj  defcribing  how  laborious  and 
indefatigable  he  was   to  no  great  purpofe  : 
Hac  omnia  magno  Jludlo  agebat:    "  All  thefe 
^^  things   he  profecuted  with  laborious  ef- 
"  fort."     Hence  it  is  that  men  many  time^ 
abufe  themfelves,  in  thinking  if  they  have 
the  favour  and  patronage    of    fome    great 
and  honourable  perfon,  all  things  muft  fuc- 
ceed  to  their  defire  ;  whereas  the  truth  is, 
that  not  the  greateft,  but  the  fitteft  inftru- 
ments,  fooncft  and  moft  happily  accomplifh 
a  work. 

And 


3l8     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

And  for  the  true  direction  of  the  mathe- 
matical part  of  the  mind ;  that  is,  for  the 
due  marfhaUing  of  mens  purfuits  towards 
their  fortune,  as  they  are  more  orlefs  mate- 
rial ;  I  hold  the  order  to  be  this :  firft,  the 
amendment  of  their  own  minds.  For  the 
remove  of  the  impediments  of  the  mind  will 
fooner  clear  the  paffages  of  fortune,  than  the 
obtaining  fortune  will  remove  the  impedi- 
ments of  the  mind.  In  the  fecond  place  I 
fet  down  wealth  and  means ;  which  per- 
chance moft  men  would  have  placed  firft, 
becaufe  of  the  general  ufe  they  bear  towards 
all  variety  of  occafions.  But  that  opinion  I 
may  condemn  for  the  like  reafon  that  Ma- 
chlavel  does  in  the  other,  that  money  is  the 
iinews  of  war;  "  Whereas,"  fays  he,  "the 
*'  true  fmews  of  war  are  no  other  than  the 
*'  iinews  of  mens  arms."  In  like  manner 
it  may  be  truly  affirmed,  that  it  is  not  money 
that  is  the  Iinews  of  fortune,  but  it  is  the 
Iinews  and  fleel  of  mens  minds,  wit,  courage, 
l}oldnefs,  refolution,  temper,  induflry,  and 
the  like.  In  the  third  place  I  fet  down  re- 
putation, becaufe  of  the  peremptory  tides 
and  currents  it  has;  which,  if  they  be  not 
taken  in  their  due  time,  are  feldom  recovered, 
2  it 


It  being  extremely  hard  to  plaj  an  after-game 
of  reputation.  And  in  the  lafl  place  I  fet 
down  honour,  which  is  more  eafily  won  by 
any  of  the  other  three,  much  more  by  all  iu 
conjunction,  than  any  of  them  can  be  pur- 
chafed  by  honour.  To  conclude  this  pre- 
cept, as  there  is  order  and  priority  in  matter, 
fo  is  there  in  time ;  the  prepoflerous  placing 
whereof  is  one  of  the  moil  common  errors  ; 
while  men  fly  to  their  ends  when  they 
ihould  ftudy  their  beginnings;  and  do  not 
take  things  in  order  of  time  as  they  come 
on,  but  arrange,  them  according  to  great- 
nefs,  and  not  according  to  inftance;  not  ob- 
ferving  the  good  precept : 

^iod  nunc  bi/Iaif  agarmis, 

ViRG.Paft.  IX.66, 


Let 


us  mma  our  wa 


*'  Another  fong  requires  another  day." 

Dryden: 

The  fecond  precept  is,  that  we  beware 
how,  upon  a  fort  of  greatnefs  and  prefump- 
tion  of  mind,  we  engage  in  matters  too  dif- 
ficult ;  for  touchins:  mens  fortune  the  coua- 
I'el  is  excellent : 

Falls  accede  Dcifjue. 

Let 


^30     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

Let  ns  look  about  us  on  every  fide,  and 
obferve  where  things  are  open,  where  fluit 
and  obflrucled,  where  eafy,  where  difficult ; 
and  let  us  not  mifemploy  onr  (Irength,  where 
the  way  is  not  paffable.  By  doing  thus  we 
Ihall  both  preferve  ourfelves  from  being- 
foiled,  and  win  the  opinion  of  moderation ; 
offend  the  fewer,  and  finally  acquire  an  opi- 
nion of  felicity,  while  thofe  things  which 
naturally  would,  of  their  own  accord,  have 
come  to  pais,  fhall  be  attributed  to  our  in- 
duftry. 

The  third  precept  is,  that  we  do  not  al- 
ways expert  occafions,  but  fometimes  pro- 
voke them,  and  lead  them  the  way:  which 
is  alfo  what  Demojihenes  intimates  in  high 
terms,  that  able  men  give  the  lead  to,  and 
are  not  led  by  affairs.  For  if  we  carefully 
attend  it,  we  ihall  obferve  two  different 
kinds  of  fufficiency  in  managing  affairs,  and 
liandhng  bufmefs.  For  fome  know  how  to 
make  a  dexterous  ufe  of  occafions,  but  plot 
and  invent  nothing  of  themfelves  :  others  are 
all  for  plots,  but  cannot  lay  hold  of  occafions 
that  fall  i\\  opportunely.     Either  of  thefe 

abi- 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     32I 

abilities  is  very  lame  and  imperfed  without 
the  other. 

A  fourth  precept  is,  to  undertake  nothing 
that  muft  neceflarily  employ  a  great  deal  of 
time;  but  to  have  that  verfe  ever  founding 
in  our  ears : 


Sedfugh  mterea,  fug'it  irreparah'ile  tempus. 
*'  But  time  is  lofl,  which  never  will  renew.'* 

Dryden. 

And  the  reafon  why  thofe  who  have  ad- 
dided  themfelves  to  laborious  profeflions, 
as  lawyers,  orators,  learned  divines,  writers 
of  books,  and  the  like,  are  lefs  politic  iii 
building  and  promoting  their  own  fortunes, 
is  no  other  than  this ;  that  they  want  time, 
which  is  otherwife  employed,  to  inform 
themfelves  of  particulars ;  to  wait  upon  oc- 
cafions,  and  to  devife  and  projecl  defigns 
which  tend  to  the  making  of  their  fortune. 
Furthermore,  in  the  courts  of  princes  and 
flates  you  will  find  thofe  moft  expert  in  ad- 
vancing their    own  fortune,  and  invading 

Vol.  II.  y  that 


322     THE  ARCHITECT  OF   HIS  FORTUNE. 

that  of  Others,  who  are  m  no  public  office; 
but  are  perpetually  taken  up  in  this  advance- 
ment of  life  that  we  are  fpeaking  of. 

A  fifth  precept  of  this  knowledge  is,  to 
imitate  nature,  which  does  nothing  in  vain. 
For  a  man  ought,  in  every  particular  action, 
fo  to  carry  the  motions  of  his  mind,  and  to 
have  one  thing  under  another,  as  if  he  can- 
not have  what  he  feeks  in  the  befh  degree, 
yet  to  have  it  in  a  fecond,  or  even  in  a  third : 
and  if  he  can  get  no  footing  at  all  in  the  thing- 
he  purpofes,  then  to  turn  the  pains  he  has 
taken  upon  fome  other  end,  than  that  he 
firft  defigned :  and  if  he  cannot  make  any 
thing  of  it  for  the  prefent,  yet  to  make  it  as 
a  feed  of  fofnewhat  in  time  to  come :  and  if 
he  can  derive  no  folid  effed  or  fubftance 
from  it,  neither  for  the  prefent  nor  for  the 
future,  yet  to  win  fome  good  opinion  and 
reputation  by  it.  So  that  he  Ihould  exad  an 
account  from  himfelf  of  every  particular  ac- 
tion, to  reap  fomewhat  from  it,  and  not  to 
ftand  amazed  and  confounded,  if  he  fail  in  the 
principal  fcope  of  his  intentions ;  for  nothing 
is  more  impolitic  than  to  be  wholly  and 
folely  taken  up  with  one  thing :  for  he  that 

is 


THE  ARCHITECT   OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     323 

IS  fo,  lofes  infinite  occafions  which  inter- 
vene, and  are  many  times  more  proper  and 
propitious  for  fome thing  he  fliall  need  after- 
wards, than  for  that  which  he  urges  for  the 
preient ;  and  therefore  men  muft  be  perfect 
in  that  rule  :  H(^c  oportet  facere^  et  ilia  non 
omittere. 

A  lixth  precept  of  this  knowledge  is,  for 
a  man  not  to  engage  himfelf  peremptorily 
in  any  thing,  though  it  may  feem  at  firil 
fight  not  very  liable  to  accident,  but  ever 
to  fecure  a  retreat. 

A  feventh  precept  of  this  knowledge  is, 
that  ancient  precept  of  B/as,  not  conftrued  to 
any  point  of  perfidy,  but  only  to  caution 
and  moderation:  "Both  love,  as  though 
>'  you  were  to  hate,  and  hate,  as  though 
*'  you  were  to  love."  For  it  utterly  betrays 
all  utility  for  men  to  embark  themfelves  too 
far  into  unfortunate  friendfhips,  troublefome 
fpleens,  and  humorous  envies  or  emula- 
tions. 

Though  I  have  continued  this  beyond  the 

meafure  of  an  example,  yet  they  are  only 

Y  2,  Iketches 


324     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

iketches  of  what  are  deficient  for  others  to 
enlarge  on.  But  as  Cicero^  when  he  fets 
down  an  idea  of  a  perfect  orator,  does  not 
mean  that  every  pleader  fhould  be  fuch  ; 
and  fo  likewlfe  when  a  prince  or  a  courtier 
has  been  defcribed  bj  fuch  as  have  handled 
thofe  fubje(5ls,  the  mould  has  ufed  to  be 
made  according  to  the  perfection  of  the  art, 
and  not  according  to  common  practice  :  fo  I 
underftand  it,  that  it  ought  to  be  done  in  the 
defcription  of  a  politic  man :  I  mean  politic 
for  his  own  fortune, 

The  precepts  which  we  have  laid  down, 
may  be  called  good  arts  :  for  as  to  evil  arts, 
if  a  man  becomes  a  difciple  to  Machiavel^ 
he  will  be  taught:  "  that  the  reputation  of 
•*  virtue  is  conducive,  but  virtue  itfclf  in- 
*'  jurious  to  fortune:"  and  "  that  men  are 
*'  befl:  retained  in  fubfervience  to  our  will  by 
*'  fear;  therefore  they  ought  always  to  be 
*'  involved  in  difficulty  and  danger  :"  fo  this 
politician  feems  to  be  what  the  Italians  call, 
II  feminatore  delle  fpine:  *'  a  thorn  fo  we  r." 
Similar  is  that  cited  by  Cicero:  *'  Let  our 
"  friends  fall,  provided  our  enemies  perifh  :" 
and  that  of  Cataline:  "  If  a  fire  be  raifed  in 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.      325^ 

*«  my  fortunes,  Twill  extinguifh  it  not  with 
*«  water,  but  ruin;"  or  the  maxim  of Ly- 
Jander :  "  That  children  are  to  be  deceived 
"  with  comfits,  and  men  with  oaths ;"  and 
the  like  corrupt  and  pernicious  pofitions; 
of  which  there  are  more  in  number  than  of 
the  good  and  found  :  if  any  man  be  delighted 
with  fuch  polluted  wifdom,  I  deny  not  but 
fuch  an  one,  difpenfmg  with  all  the  laws  of 
charity  and  virtue,  and  being  wholly  enflaved 
to  the  prefhng  his  fortune,  may,  with  more 
compendioufnefs  and  fpeed,  advance  it:  but 
it  is  in  life,  as  it  is  in  ways,  the  (hortefl  way 
is  commonly  the  fouleft;  nor  indeed  is  the 
fairefl  way  the  mofl  tedious. 

But  men  fhould  be  fo  far  from  applying 
themfelves  to  fuch  corrupt  and  crooked  arts, 
that  they  ought  rather  to  fet  before  their 
eyes,  not  only  that  general  map  of  the  world, 
*'  That  all  things  are  vanity  and  vexation  of 
*'  fpirit;"  but  many  other  more  particular 
direClions,  vh.  "  That  being  itfelf,  without 
<«  well-being,  is  a  curfe;  and  the  greater 
*'  the  being,  the  greater  the  curfe:"  and, 
*'  That  the  highefl  reward  of  virtue,  is 
«<  virtue  herfelf;  as  alfo  the  feverefl  puniih- 
y  3  "  ment 


326     THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

*'  ment  of  vice,  is  vice  itfelf :"   according 
to  what  the  poet  fays  excellently  : 


^ae  vob'is,  qu<s  d'lgna  vlr'i,  pro  tallbus  aiijis 
Pram'ia pojfc  rear  folv'i  ?     Pulcherrima primum 
Dii  morcf/^ue  dahunt  vejlri. 

ViRG.  ^n.  IX.  217,  &c, 

*'  Ye  brave  young  men,  what  equal  gifts  can  we, 
*'  In  recompence  of  fuch  defert,  decree  ? 
*'  The  grcateft,  fure,  and  bed  you  can  receive, 
*'  The  Gods,  and  your  own  confcious  worth  will  give." 

Dryden. 

Further,  while  men  are   turning  their 
thoughts  every  way,    how  they   may  heft 
confult  their  advancement  in  the  world,  they 
ought  to  look  up   to  the  divine  judgments, 
and  eternal    providence,    which  very  often 
fubverts  and  brings  to  nought  the  machina- 
tions  and  evil  counfels,  though  never  fo  pro- 
found, of  the  v/icked  ;  according  to  that  of 
fcripture  :  "  He  hath  conceived  iniquity,  and 
*'  (hall  bring  forth  a  vain  thing."    Though 
men  ihould    refrain   from  injury,  and  evil 
arts,  yet  this  reftlefs,  inceffant  afpiring  to 
the  height  of  fortune,  pays  not  the  tribute 
of  our  time  due  unto  God  :  who,  as  we  may 
fee,  demands   and  fets  apart  for  himfelf  a 
I  tenth 


THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE.     327 

tenth  of  our  fubftance,  and  a  feventh  of  our 
time.  For  to  what  purpofe  were  it  to  have 
an  ere6l  face  towards  heaven,  and  a  fpirit 
groveling  upon  earth,  and  eating  duft  Ukc 
the  ferpent  ?  An  obfervation  which  even  the 
heathen  could  make : 

Atq^ue  affl'ig'n  humo  divine  particulam  aura^ 

Should  any  man  flatter  himfelf,  that  he 
refolves  to  employ  his  fortune  well,  though 
he  fhould  obtain  it  ill ;  as  was  faid  oi  Auguflus 
Co'far^  Tundi  Septimius  Sevenis :  "  That  either 
*'  the}'  fhould  never  have  been  born,  or  never 
"  have  died ;"  they  did  fo  much  mifchief 
in  the  purfuit  of  their  fortune,  and  fo  much 
good  when  they  were  at  the  fummit;  let 
him  take  this  with  him,  that  fuch  compen- 
fation  of  evil  by  good  may  be  allowed  after , 
the  facl,  but  is  defervedly  condemned  in  the 
purpofe.  Laftly,  it  would  not  be  amifs  for 
us,  in  this  ardent  purfuit  of  fortune,  to  cool 
ourfelves  a  little,  with  that  elegant  conceit  of 
the  emperorC/M;-/^Jthe Fifth,  in  his  inftrudi- 
ons  to  his  fon  :  "  That  fortune  has  fomething 
"  of  the  nature  of  women,  who  for  the  moll: 
*'  part  fcom fully  turn  off  humble  fervants 
Y4  "  that 


328      THE  ARCHITECT  OF  HIS  FORTUNE. 

*'  that  are  too  eager  in  their  courtfhip." 
But  this  laft  remedy  is  for  thofe  whofe  tafte, 
from  fome  diflemper  of  mind,  is  corrupted. 
Let  men  rather  build  upon  that  foundation 
which  is  the  corner-ftone  of  divinity  and 
philofophy  :  "  Firft  feek  ye  the  kingdom 
*'  of  God,  and  all  thefe  things  ihall  be  added 
*'  unto  you :"  and  the  precept  of  philofo- 
phy: *'  Seek  firfl  the  goods  of  the  mind, 
*'  and  the  reft  fhall  be  fupplied,  or  their  ab- 
*'  fence  fhall  not  be  prejudicial."  And  altho' 
the  human  foundation  is  fomewhat  fandy, 
as  jBr^//z/J  exclaimed  :  "  I  reverenced  thee,  O 
*'  virtue,  as  a  thing  facred,  but  thou  art  an 
*'  empty  name :"  yet  the  divine  foundation  is 
fettled  upon  a  rock.  And  here  we  conclude 
the  do6lrine  of  the  courfe  of  life  for  advance- 
ment in  the  world. 


o  N 


ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY.  ^2^ 


O     N 


INSPIRED     DIVINITY, 


nPHE  prerogative  of  God  comprehends  the 
whole  man  ;  and  extends  as  well  to  the 
reafon,  as  to  the  will  of  man;  to  the  end, 
that  man  may  renounce  himfelf  wholly, 
and  draw  near  unto  God.  Wherefore,  as  we 
are  to  obey  the  divme  law,  though  we  find  a 
relu6lance  in  our  will ;  fo  are  we  to  believe 
the  word  of  God,  though  we  find  a  reluc- 
tance in  our  reafon.  But  ''  that  faith  which 
"  was  accounted  to  Abraham  for  righteouf- 
"  nefs,"  wasof  fuch  a  point  as  that  at  which 
Sarah  laughed  ;  who  therein  was  an  image 
of  natural  reafon.  For  if  we  confider  the 
thing  aright,  it  is  more  worthy  to  believe 
than  to  know  ;  as  we  now  know;  fince  in 
knowledge  man's  mind  fuffers  from  fenfe ; 
but  in  belief  it  fuffers  from  fpirit,  and  fuch 
an  one  as  it  holds  far  more  authorifed  than 
itfelf,  and  fo  fuffers  from  the  worthier  agent. 
The  cafe  is  otherwife  in  the  flate  of  glory  ; 

for 


§30  ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY. 

for  then  *^  faith   fliall   ceafe,   and  we  fhal| 
*'  know,  as  we  are  known.'* 

Wherefore  we  may  conclude,  that  fa- 
cred  theology  muft  be  drawn  from  the  word 
of  God,  not  from  the  Ught  of  nature,  or  the 
didates  of  reafon.  For  it  is  written,  ''  The 
"  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God  :"  but 
we  find  it  no  where  written,  the  heavens 
declare  the  will  of  God.  Of  this  it  is  pro- 
nounced :  Ad  legem  et  teji'imtmia  ;  Ji  non  fece- 
rmt  fecundum  verbum  illiid,  &c.  Nor  does 
this  hold  only  in  thofe  great  myfleries  of  the 
Deity,  of  the  creation,  of  the  redemption, 
but  appertains  alfo  to  the  moral  law,  truly 
interpreted.  For  it  mufh  be  confeffed,  that 
a  great  part  of  the  moral  law  is  of  that  per- 
fedion  whereunto  the  light  of  nature  cannot 
afpire.  Though  men  have,  even  from  tlie 
light  andlaw^  of  nature,  fome  notions  of  vir- 
tue, vice,  juftice,  wrong,  good,  and  evil, 
the  light  of  nature  is  to  be  underftood  in  two 
fenfes :  firft,  as  it  fprings  from  fenfe,  induc- 
tion, reafon,  argument,  according  to  the 
laws  of  heaven  and  earth :  fecondly,  as  it  is 
imprinted  and  fhines  upon  the  fpirit  of  man, 
by  an  inward  inftincl,  according  to  the  law 

of 


ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY.  ^^T 

of  confclence,  which  Is  a  kind  of  fpark  and 
relic  of  his  former  and  primitive  purity:  in 
which  latter  fenfe  chiefly  the  foul  partici- 
pates of  fome  light  to  behold  and  difcern  the 
perfection  of  the  moral  law;  which  light 
however  is  not  altogether  clear,  but  of  fuch 
fort  as  rather  to  check  the  vice,  than  fully  to 
inform  the  duty:  fo  then  the  do£lrine  of  re- 
ligion, as  well  moral  as  myftical,  depends 
upon  divine  revelation. 

The  ufenotwlthftanding  of  human  reafon 
hi  fpiritual  things,  and  the  latitude  of  it,  is 
very  great  and  general :    hence  the  Apoftle 
calls   religion,    "  our  reafonable  fervice  of 
"  God."     Nay,    the   very   ceremonies    and 
figures  of  the  old  law  were  full  of  reafon  and 
fignifi cation,    much    more    than    the    cere- 
monies of  idolatry  and  magic,  which  were 
mute,  not  teaching,  or  even  infinuatingany 
thing :  but  the  Chriftian  faith  as  in  all  things, 
fo  particularly  in  this,  deferves  to  be  highly 
magnified,  becaufe  it  holds  and  preferves  the 
golden  mediocrity,  as  to  the  ufe  of  reafon 
and  difputation,  which   is  the  offspring  of 
reafon,  between  the  law  of  the  Heathen,  and 
the  law  of  Mahomet,  which  have  embraced 

the 


33*  ^^    INSPIRED    DIVINITY. 

the  two  extremes :  for  the  religion  of  the 
Heathen  had  no  conftant  beUef  or  confef- 
fion,  but  left  all  to  the  liberty  of  argument : 
and  the  religion  of  Mahomet,  on  the  other 
fide,  interdicts  argument  altogether;  the 
one  having  the  very  face  of  error  ;  the  other 
of  impofture:  whereas  the  Chriflian  faith 
both  admits  and  rejeds  difputation,  but  ac- 
cording to  due  bounds. 

The  ufe  of  human  reafon,  in  matters  per- 
taining to  religion,  is  of  two  forts  :  the  one, 
in  the  conception  and  apprehenfion  of  the 
mylleries  of  God  revealed  to  us  ;  the  other, 
in  the  inferring  and  deriving  of  doclrine  and 
direction  from  them.  As  to  the  conception 
of  the  myfleries,  we  fee  God  vouchfafes  to 
defcend  to  the  weaknefs  of  our  capacity, 
fo  exprelling  and  unfolding  his  myfleries, 
as  they  may  bed  be  comprehended  by  us; 
and  grafting,  in  a  manner,  his  revelations, 
and  holy  do6lrine,  upon  the  conceptions  and 
notions  of  our  reafon  ;  and  fo  applying  his 
infpirations  to  open  our  underlfanding,  as 
the  form  of  the  key  is  fitted  to  the  ward  of 
the  lock.  In  which  refpecl  notwithflanding 
we  ought  not  to  be  wanting  to  ourfelves ; 

for 


ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY.  333 

for  fince  God  hlmfelf  makes  ufe  of  the  means 
ofourreafon  in  his  illuminations,  we  ought 
alio  to  exercife  and  turn  the  fame  everyway, 
by  which  we  may  become  more  capable  to 
receive  and  imbibe  the  holy  myfteries ;  with 
this  caution,  that  the  mind  be  dilated,  ac- 
cording to  its  model,  to  the  amplitude  of  the 
myfleries ;  and  not  the  myfteries  ftraitened 
and  contraded  to  the  narrownefs  of  the 
mind. 

As  for  inferences,  we  ought  to  know,  that 
there  is  allowed  us  a  ufe  of  reafon  and  argu- 
mentation in  myfteries  fecondary  and  refpec- 
tive,  though  not  original  and  abfolute.  For 
after  the  articles  and  principles  of  religion 
are  once  placed,  and  wholly  exempted  from 
the  examination  of  reafon,  it  is  then  per- 
mitted unto  us  to  make  deductions  and  in- 
ferences from  them,  and  according  to  the 
analogy  of  them,  for  our  better  dire£lion. 
In  things  natural  indeed  this  holds  not ;  for 
both  the  principles  themfelves  are  examinable 
by  indudion,  though  not  by  fyllogifm  :  and 
beiides,  thofe  principles,  or  firft  pofitions, 
have  no  repugnancy  with  that  reafon  which 
draws  down  and  deduces   the  inferior  pofi. 

tions. 


334        ON  INSPIRED  Divinity. 

tions.  The  cafe  is  otherwife  in  religion, 
where  hoth  the  firft  politions  are  their  own 
fupporters,  and  fubfifl  by  themfelves ;  and 
again,  they  are  not  regulated  by  that  reafon 
which  deduces  the  confequent  propofi tions. 
Nor  does  this  hold  in  religon  alone,  but  in 
other  fciences  alfo,  both  of  greater  and^fmaller 
nature ;  namely,  wherein  there  are  not  only 
pofitions,  but  a6ls  of  authority  ;  for  in  fuch 
alfo  there  can  be  no  ufe  of  abfolute  reafon : 
fo  in  human  laws,  there  are  many  grounds 
and  maxims,  which  are,  placita juris,  politive 
upon  authority,  and  not  upon  reafon;  and 
therefore  not  to  be  difputed :  but  what  is 
rnofl:  juft,  not  abfolutely  but  relatively,  and 
according  to  the  analogy  of  thofe  maxims 
which  affords  a  large  field  of  difputation. 
Such  therefore  is  that  fecondary  reafon  that 
has  place  in  divinity,  which  is  grounded 
upon  the  placits  of  God. 

And  as  there  is  a  double  ufe  ofhu  man  reafon 
in  divine  matters,  fo  in  the  fame  ufe  alfo  there 
is  a  double  excefs :  the  one,  when  too  curious 
an  enquiry  is  made  into  the  manner  of  the 
myftery  ;  the  other,  when  as  great  authority 
is  attributed  to  inferences  as  to  principles. 

We 


ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY.  -^^^ 

We  have  an  hipLance  of  the  firft  in  Nicodemus, 
who  obftinately  enquires,  "  How  can  a  man 
"  be  born  when  he  is  old  ?"  Of  the  fecond, 
in  thofe  who  arrogantly  vouch  their  opinions 
by  anathemas :  it  would  therefore  be  a  whole- 
fome  and  very  ufeful  courfe,  if  a  fober  and 
diligent  treatife  was  compiled,  which  might 
give  direaions  concerning  the  true  limits 
and  ufe  of  reafon  in  fpiritual  things;  and 
w^ould  be  a  kind  of  opiate  medicine,  not  only 
to  quiet  and  lay  afleep  the  vanity  of  curious 
fpeculations  with  which  the  fchools  labour, 
but  hkewife  to  calm  and  mitigate  the  fury  of 
controverfies,  wherewith  the  church  labours. 
For  it  cannot  but  open  mens  eyes  to  fee  that 
many  controverfies  do  merely'relate  to  that 
which  is  either  not  revealed  or  pofitive  ;  and 
that  many  others  do  grow  upon  weak  and 
obfcure  inferences  or  deduftions.  So  it  is  a 
thing  of  great  moment  and  ufe  well  to  define 
what,  and  of  what  latitude  thofe  points  are, 
which  difcorporate  men  from  the  body  of  the 
church,  and  exclude  them  from  the  commu- 
nion  and  fellowship  of  the  faithful.  Now, 
if  any  one  thinks  this  has  been  done  long- 
ago,  let  him  well  confider  with  what  fince- 
rity  and  moderation.    In  the  mean  time  it  is 

likely, 


336  ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY. 

likely,  that  he  who  makes  mention  of  peace, 
will  receive  Jehus  anfwer  to  the  meflenger, 
"  Is  it  peace  Jehu?''  "  What  haft  thou  to 
*'  do  with  peace?  Turn,  and  follow  me." 
Peace  is  not  the  thing  that  moft  people  love, 
but  party. 

Seeing  the  parts  of  holy  fcripture,  as  to 
the  information  of  theology,  are  lo  great,  we 
ought  efpecially  to  confider  their  interpreta- 
tion. Nor  do  we  here  fpeak  of  the  authority 
of  interpreting  them,  which  is  eftahlifhed  in 
the  confent  of  the  church,  but  of  the  manner 
of  interpreting  them.  This  is  of  two  forts; 
methodical  and  folute,  or  at  large;  for  thefe 
divine  waters,  which  infinitely  excel  thofe 
of  Jacobs  well,  are  drawn  forth  much  in  the 
fame  manner,  as  natural  waters  ufed  to  be  out 
of  wells,  which  are  either  forced  up  into  a 
ciftern,  and  fo  conveyed  and  derived  by  pipes 
for  pubhc  and  private  ufe  ;  or  elfe  are  drawn 
in  veffels  where  they  fpring,  for  occaiional 
ufe.  The  former  fort  of  which,  though  it 
feems  to  be  the  more  ready,  yet  in  my 
judgment,  is  more  fubje6t  to  corruption. 
This  is  that  method  which  has  exhibited 
inito    us  the   fcholaftic   divinity,    whereby 

divinity 


ON    INSPIRED    DiVlNITr,  337 

divinity  has  been  reduced  into  an  art,  as  into 
a  ciftern  ;  and  the  ftreams  of  axioms  and 
pofitions  derived  and  diftributed  from  thence 
unto  all  parts. 

In  this  men  have  fought  three  things ;  a 
fummary  brevity,  a  compared  ftrength,  and 
a  complete  perfedion  :   the  two  firfl  of  which 
they  fail  to   find,  and  the  laft  they  ought 
not  to  feek.     As  to  brevity,  we  fee  in    all 
fummary  methods,    while  men  propofe  to 
abridge,  they  give  caufe  to  dilate ;  for  the 
fum  or  abridgment  by  contradion  becomes 
obfcure,   the  obfcurity  requires  expofition, 
and  the  expofition  is  deduced  into  large  com- 
mentaries, or  into  common  places  and  titles, 
which  grow  larger  than  the  original  writings, 
whence  the  fummary  was   extraded.      So 
we  fee  the  volumes  of  the  School-men  are 
tnuch  greater  than  the  firft  writings  of  the 
fathers,  whence  the  mafler  of  the  fentences 
made  his  fum  or  colledion  :  fo  in  like  man- 
ner the  volumes  of  the   modern  dodors  of 
the  civil  law,  exceed  thofe  of  the  ancient  ju- 
rlfconfults,  of  which  Tribonian  compiled  the 
digeft.    So  that  this  courfe  of  fum  and  com- 
mentaries is  that  which  does  infallibly  make 
Vol.  II.  z  the 


'338  ON    INSFIRBD   DIVINITY. 

tlie  body  of  fclences  more  immenfe  in  q"ua« 
lity,  and  more  bafe  in  fubftance. 

And  for  ftrength,  it  is  true,  that  know- 
ledge   reduced   into   exa6l  methods   have  a 
fhew  of  ftrength,  in  that  each  part  feems  to 
fupport  and  fuftain  the   other :   but  this  is 
more  fatisfaftory  than  fubftantial,  like  unto 
buildings  which  ftand  by  architecture  and 
compa6lion,  which  are  more  fubjeft  to  ruin 
than  thofe   that  are  built  ftronger  in   their 
feveral   parts,  though  lefs  compared.     But 
it  is  plain,  that  the  more  you  recede  from 
your  grounds,    the  weaker  you   conclude; 
and  as  in  nature  the  more  you  remove  your- 
felf  from   particulars,  the  greater  peril    of 
error  you  incur :    fo  much  more   in  divi- 
nity, the  more  you  recede  from  the  fcriptures 
by   inferences   and  confequences,  the  more 
weak  and  dilute  are  your  pofitions. 

As  for  perfection  or  completenefs  in  di- 
vinity, it  is  not  to  be  fought,  which  makes 
this  courfe  of  artificial  divinity  the  more  fuf- 
peCled  ;  For  he  that  will  reduce  a  knowledge 
into  an  art,  will  make  it  round  and  uniform : 
but  in  divinity  many  things  muft  be  left 

abrupt, 


ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY.  ^39 

abrupt,  and  concluded  with  this:  ''  O  the 
"  depth  of  the  vvitdom  and  knowledge  of 
*'  God,  how  unfathomable  are  his  judg- 
*'  ments,  and  his  ways  untraceable  !"  So 
again  the  Apoftle  fays,  "We  know  in  part ;". 
and  to  has^e  the  form  of  a  whole,  where 
there  is  but  matter  for  a  part,  cannot  be 
without  fupplies  by  fuppofition  and  pre- 
fum prion  ;  and  therefore  I  conclude,  that 
the  true  ufe  of  thefe  fummary  methods  has 
place  in  inftitutions  or  introductions  pre- 
paratory to  knowledge:  but  in  them,  or 
by  dedu cement  from  them,  to  handle  the 
main  body  and  fubftance  of  knowledge,  is 
in  all  Iciences  prejudicial,  and  in  divinity 
dangerous. 

As  to  the  interpretation  of  the  fcriptures 
folute  and  at  large,  there  hav^e  been  various 
kinds  devifed,  fome  of  them  rather  curious 
and  unfafe,  than  fober  and  warranted.  How- 
ever it  mufl  be  confefled,  that  the  fcrip- 
tures being  given  by  infpirationp  and  not 
by  human  reafon,  differ  from  all  other 
books  in  the  author;  which  confequently 
draws  on  fome  difference  to  be  ufed  by  the 
expofitor:  for  the  inditer  of  them  did  know 
Z  2  four 


340  ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY. 

four  things  which  no  man  attains  to  know! 
thefe  are,  the   myfteries  of  the  kingdom  of 
glory;  the  perfeftion  of  the  laws  of  nature; 
the  fecrets  of  the  heart  of  man  ;  and  the  fu- 
ture fucceffion  of  all  ages.    As  to  the  firft,  it 
is  faid,  "  He  that  prelTeth   into  the  light, 
"  fhall    be  oppreffed  of  the  glory."     And 
again;    "  No  man  fhall   fee  my  face  and 
"  live."     Tothefecond;  "  When  he  pre- 
*'  pared  the  heavens  I  was  prefent,  when 
•'  by  law  and  compafs  he  enclofed  the  deep/* 
To  the  third  ;    "  Neither  was  it  needful 
"  that  any  fhould  bear  witnefs  to  him  of 
*'  man,  for  he  knew  well  what  was  in  man." 
And  to  the  laft ;  '*  From  the  beginning  are 
*'  known  to  the  Lord,  all  his  works." 

From  the  former  two  of  thefe  have  been 
drawn  certain  fenfes  and  expofitions  of  fciip- 
ture,  which  had  need  be  contained  within 
the  bounds  of  fobriety  ;  the  one  fpiritual, 
and  the  other  philofophical.  As  to  the  for- 
mer, man  is  not  to  anticipate  the  time 
*'  when  we  (hall  fee  face  to  face,  now  we 
*'  fee  through  a  glafs  darkly  :"  neverthelefs, 
there  feems  to  be  a  liberty  granted  to  the 
polifhing  of  this  glafs,  or   fome   moderate 

expli- 


i 


ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY.  34I 

explication  of  this  obfcurity.     But   to  prefs 
too  far  into  it  cannot  but  caufe  a  diflblution 
and  overthrow  of  the  fpirit  of  man  ;   for  in 
the  body  there  are  three  degrees  of  what  we 
receive  into  it;  aUment,  medicine,  and  poi- 
Ibn  :  aliment   is  that  which   the   nature  of 
man  can  perfectly  alter  and  digeft ;  medicine 
that  which   is   partly  converted  by  nature, 
and  partly  converts  nature;    and    poifon  is 
what  works    wholly   upon  nature,    but  on 
which  nature  can  have  no  efTe<£l: :   fo  in  the 
mind,  whatever  knowledge  reafon  cannot  at 
all  work  upon  and  convert,  is  a  mere  lntox-» 
ication,  and  endangers  a  diflblution  of  the 
mind  and    underftanding.       Bat  the    latter 
docStrine   has   been  lately  inftituted   by  the 
fchool  of  Paracelfus  and  others,  who  have 
pretended  to  find  the  truth  of  all  natural 
philofophy   in   the  fcriptures ;  fcandalizing 
and  traducing  all  other  philofophy  as  hea- 
thenifh  and  profane.     But  there  is  no  fuch 
enmity  between  God's  word  and  his  works; 
neither  do  they  give  honour  to  the  fcriptures, 
as  they  fuppofe,   but  debafe  them.     For  to 
feek  heaven  and  earth  in  the  word  of  God, 
whereof  it  is  faid,  "  heaven  and  earth  fhall 
*♦  pafs,  but  my  word  fhall  not  pafs,"    is  to 
Z  3  feek 


34^  ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY. 

feek    temporal  things  among  eternal:    and 
as  to  feek  divinity  in  philofophy  is  ^'  to  leek 
•*'  the  living  amongft  the  dead :"   fo  to  feek 
philofophy  in  divinity  is  to   feek  the  dead 
among    the  living.     Neither  are  the  pots  or 
layers,  whofe  place  was  in  the  outward  part 
of  the   temple,   to  be   fought  in  the  holiefl: 
place  of  all,  where  the  ark  of  the  teftimony 
was  feated  :  neither  is  the  fcope  or  purpofe 
of  God  to  exprefs  matters  of  nature  in  the 
fcriptures,  otherwife   than   in   paflage,   and 
for  application  to   man's    capacity,    and  to 
matters  moral  or  divine.     And   it  is  a  true 
rule :   Authons  allud  agentis  parva  authorltas. 
For  it  were  a  ftrange  conclullon,   if  a   man 
fliould  ufe  a   fimilitude  for  ornament  or  il- 
luftration's  fake,  borrowed  from  nature  or 
hiftory,  according  to  vulgar  conceit,  as  that 
of  a  balililk,  an  unicorn,  centaur,  briareus,  or 
an  hydra,  that  therefore  he  mufl  be  thought 
to  affirm  the  matter  thereof  politively  to  be 
true.     To  conclude  therefore  thefe  two  in- 
terpretations, the  one  by  redudion  or  senig- 
matical,  the  other  philofophical  or  phyfical, 
which   have  been    received  and  purfiied  in 
imitation  of  the  Rabbins  and  Cabalijls^  are  to 
be  confined  with  a  Noll  altumfapere,  fed  time  : 

'*  Do 


ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY. 


343 


«'  Do  not  carry  your  enquiries  too  high,  but 
*'  be  cautious." 

But  the  two  latter  points  known  to  God 
and  unknown  to  man,  touching  the  fecrets 
of  the  heart,  and   the   fucceifions   of   time, 
make  a  jufl:  and  found  difference   between 
the  manner  of  the  expofition  of  the  fcrip- 
tures,  and  all  other  books  ;  for  it  is   an  ex- 
cellent obfervatjon,   which  has  been    made 
upon  the  anfwers  of  our  Saviour   Chrift,  to 
many  of  thequeflions  which  were  propound- 
ed to  him,  that  they  are  Impertinent  to  the 
ftate  of  the  queftion  demanded  ;  the  reafoa 
is,  becaufe  not  being  like  man,   who  knows 
man's  thoughts  by  his  words,  but  knowing 
their    thoughts   immediately,  he  never  aii- 
fwered    their    words,     but    their    thoughts. 
Much  in  the  like  manner  it  is  with  the  fcrip- 
tures,  which  being  written  to  the  thoughts 
of  men,  and  to  the  fucceffioii  of  all  ages,  with 
a   forefight  of  all   herefies,    contradidlons, 
differing  flates   of   the   church,     and    par- 
ticularly  of  the  ele6l,  are  not  to  be  inter- 
preted only  according  to  the  latitude  of  the 
proper  fenfe  of  the  place,  and  refpe^llvely 
Z  4  towards 


^44  ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY, 

towards  that  prefent  occafion  whereupon  the 
words  were  uttered;  or  in  precife  congruity 
and  contexture  with  thewords  before  or  after, 
or  in  contemplation  of  the  principal  fcope  of 
the  place,  but  have  in  themfelves  not  only 
totally  or  colleclively^  but  diftributively  in 
claufes  and  words,  infinite  fprings  and 
flreams  of  do6lrine  to  water  the  church  iu 
every  part:  and  therefore  as  the  literal  fenfe 
is  like  the  main  ftream  or  river :  fo  the 
moral  fenfe  chiefly,  and  fometimes  the  alle- 
gorical or  typical  are  thefe,  of  which  the 
church  has  mofl  ufe :  not  that  I  wifh  men  to 
be  bold  in  allegories,  indulgent,  or  light 
in  allulions  ;  but  that  I  do  much  condemn 
that  interpretation  of  the  fcripture,  which 
is  only  after  the  manner  of  men,  in  the  in- 
terpretation of  a  profane  book. 

But  that,  form  of  writing  in  divinity, 
which  in  my  judgment  is,  of  all  others, 
the  moft  rich  and  precious,  is  pofitive  divi- 
nity colleded  upon  particular  texts  of  fcrip- 
ture in  brief  obfervations,  not  dilated  into 
common  places  involved  in  controverfies, 
^pr  reduced  into  method  of  art ;  that  abounds 

in 


ON    INSPIRED    DIVINITY,  345 

In  fermons  which  will  vanifti,  but  defe6live 
in  books  which  will  remain,  and  wherein 
this  age  excels ;  foi"  I  am  perfuaded,  and  I 
may  fpeak  it  with  an  Jbjit  invidia  verbo^  and 
no  ways  derogatory  to  antiquity,  but  as  in 
a  good  emulation  between  the  vine  and  the 
olive ;  that  if  the  choice  and  befl:  of  thofe 
obfervations  upon  texts  of  fcripture,  which 
have  been  made  difperfedly  in  fermons  for 
the  fpace  of  thefe  forty  years  and  more, 
(leaving  out  the  largenefs  of  exhortations  and 
applications  of  them)  had  been  fet  down  in 
a  continuance,  it  had  been  the  befl  work  of 
divinity  which  had  been  written  fince  the 
time  of  the  Apoflles.  And  certainly  as  wines 
which  at  the  firfl  treading  run  gently,  are 
pleafanter  than  thofe  forced  by  the  wine- 
prefs,  for  thefe  tafte  of  the  flone  and  fkin  of 
the  grape  ;  fo  thofe  dodrines  are  exceeding 
wholefome  and  fweet,  which  flow  from 
fcriptures  gently  prefled,  and  are  not  wrefted 
to  controverfies  or  common-places.  Such  a 
treatife  we  will  term  the  emanation  of  fcrip- 
ture into  pofitive  dodrines. 


On 


34^        ON  THE  MATTER  OF  DIVINITY. 


On   the   matter  of    DIVINITY. 


nPHE  matter  informed  or  revealed  by  divi- 
nity is  of  two  kinds ;  matter  of  belief,  and 
truth  of  opinion,  matter  of  fervice  and  ado- 
ration, which  is  alfo  judged  and  directed  by 
the  former;  the  one  being  as  the  internal 
foul  of  religion,  and  the  other  as  the  exter- 
nal body  thereof;  therefore  the  heathen  re- 
ligion was  not  only  a  worfhip  of  idols,  but 
the  whole  religion  was  an  idol  in  itfelf ;  for 
it  had  no  foul ;  that  is,  no  certainty  of  belief 
orconfeffion,  as  a  man  may  well  think,  con- 
fidering  the  chief  do6lors  of  the  church  were 
the  poets  ;  and  the  reafon  was,  becaufe  the 
heathen  Gods  were  not  jealous  Gods,  but 
were  glad  to  be  admitted  into  part,  as  they 
had  reafon  :  neither  did  they  refpe^l  purity 
of  heart,  fo  they  might  have  external  ho- 
nour and  rites. 

But  out  of  theft  two  do  refult  and  ifTue 
four  main  branches  of  divinity  ;    faith,  mo- 
rals, liturgy,  and  government.     Faith  con- 
tains 


ON  THE   MATTER  OF  DIVINITY.        34.7 

tains  the  doclrlne  of  the  nature  of  God, 
the  attributes  of  God,  and  of  the  works  of 
God.  The  nature  of  God  confifts  of  three 
perfons  in  Unity  of  Godhead.  The  attri- 
butes of  God  are  common  to  the  Deity,  or 
refpetftive  to  the  Perfons.  The  works  of 
God  fummary  are  two,  that  of  the  creation, 
and  that  of  the  redemption  :  and  both  thefe 
works,  as  in  total  they  appertain  to  the  unity 
of  the  Godhead;  fo  in  their  parts  they  refer 
to  tl:ie  three  perfons :  that  of  the  creation  in 
the  mafs  of  the  matter,  to  the  Father ;  in 
the  difpofitioa  of  the  form,  to  the  Son  ;  and 
in  the  continuance  and  confervation  of  the 
being,  to  the  Holy  Spirit:  fo  that  of  the 
redemption,  in  the  election  and  counfel,  to 
the  Father;  in  the  whole  a£t  and  confum- 
mation,  to  the  Son;  and  in  the  application, 
to  the  Holy  Spirit ;  for  by  the  Holy  Ghofl 
was  Chrlft  conceived  in  flefh,  and  by  his 
operation  are  the  eledl  regenerated  in  fpi- 
rit.  This  work  like  wife  we  confider  either 
effeaually  in  the  ele6l,  or  privately  in  the 
reprobate,  or  according  to  the  appearance  in 
the  vifible  church. 

For 


34^       ON   THE  MATTER  OF  DIVINITY. 

For  morals,  the  dodrine  thereof  is  con* 
tained  in  the  law,  which  difclofes  fin.     The 
law  itfelf  is  divided,  according  to  the  edition 
thereof,    into  the   law  of  nature,    the  law 
moral,  and  the  law  pofitive ;  and  according 
to  the  ftyle,  into  negative   and  affirmative, 
prohibitions  and   commandments.      Sin   in 
the  matter  and  fubje6l  thereof,  is  divided  ac- 
cording to  the  commandments  :  in  the  form, 
it  refers  to  the  three  perfons  in  Deity  ;  fins 
of  infirmity  againfl  the  Father,  whofe  more 
fpecial  attribute  is  power;  fins  of  ignorance 
againfl:  the  Son,  whofe  attribute  is  wifdom ; 
and  fins  of  malice  againfl  the  Holy  Ghofl, 
whofe  attribute    is  grace  or  love.     In   the 
motions  of  it,  either  to  blind  devotion,  or  to 
profane  and  libertine  t  ran  fg  refill  on,  either  in 
impofingreftraint,  where  God  grants  liberty, 
or  in  taking  liberty,  where  God  impofes  re- 
ilraint.     In  the  degrees  and  progrefs  of  it,  it 
divides   itfelf  into  thought,  word,   or   a6l  : 
and  in  this  part   I  commend  much  the  de- 
ducing of  the  law  of  God  to  cafes  of  confcl- 
ence ,  for  that  I  take  indeed  to  be  a  breaking, 
and  not   exhibiting    whole,     the    bread    oi 
life.     But  that  which  quickens  both  thefe 
;  doc» 


I 


ON  THE  MATTER   OF  DIVINITY*        349 

do6lrInes  of  faith  and  manners  is,  the  eleva-* 
tion  and  confent  of  the  heart,  to  which 
appertain  books  of  exhortation,  holy  medi« 
tation,  chriftian  refolution,  and  the  Hke. 

For  the  liturgy  or  fervice,  it  confifls  of 
the  reciprocal  a£ls  between  God  and  man ; 
on  the  part  of  God,  are  the  preaching  of  the 
word,  and  facraments,  which  are  feals 
to  the  covenant,  or  as  the  vifible  word:  and 
on  the  part  of  man,  invocation  of  the  name 
of  God,  and  under  the  law,  facrifices,  which 
were  as  vifible  prayers  or  confeflions  ;  but 
now  the  adoration  being  in  fpirit  and  truth, 
there  remain  only  the  offerings  of  the  lips, 
although  the  ufe  of  holy  vows,  thankful- 
nefs  and  retribution  may  be  accounted  alfo  as 
fealed  petitions. 

And  for  the  government  of  the  church,  it 
confifts  of  the  patrimony,  franchifes,  offices, 
jurifdidlions,  and  the  laws  of  it,  direding 
the  whole :  all  which  have  two  conlidera- 
tions  ;  the  one  in  themfelves,  the  other,  how 
they  ftand  compatible  and  agreeable  to  the 
civil  ftate.  This  matter  of  divinity  is  handled 
either  in  form  of  inflru^lion  of  truth,    or  of 

con- 


350       ON  THE  MATTER  OF  DIVINITYi 

confutation  of  falfehood.  The  declinatlong 
from  religion,  befides  the  primitive,  which 
is  atheifm^  and  the  branches  thereof,  are 
three ;  herefies,  idolatry,  and  witch-craft : 
herefies,  when  we  ferve  the  true  God  with  a 
falfe  worfhip  :  idolatry,  when  we  worfhip 
falfe  Gods,  fnppofing  them  to  be  true;  and 
witch-craft,  when  we  adore  falfe  Gods, 
knowing  them  to  be  wicked  and  falfe;  for 
witch-craft  is  the  height  of  idolatry.  And 
yet  we  fee  though  thefe  are  true  degrees, 
Samuel  teaches  us  that  they  are  all  of  a  na- 
ture, when  once  there  is  a  receding  from  the 
word  of  God;  for  he  faith,  ^laji  peccatum 
ariolandi  eft  repugnare^  et  quaji  fcelus  idolatrl^ 
nolle  acquiefcere» 

These  things  I  have  paffed  over  fo  briefly, 
becaufe  I  can  report  no  deficiency  concern- 
ing them ;  for  I  find  no  fpace  of  ground 
that  lies  vacant  and  unfown  in  the  matter 
of  divinity;  fo  diligent  have  men  been,  ei- 
ther in  fowing  good  feed,  or  in  fowing 
tares. 

Thus  have  I  made  it  as  it  were  a  fmall 
globe  of  the  intelledlual  world  as  faithfully 

as 


ON  THE  MATTER  OF  DIVINITY.       3^1 

cis  I  could,  together  with  a  defigtiation  and 
defcription  of  thofe  parts  which  1  find  either 
not  conftantly  occupied,  or   not  fufficiently 
improved,    by   the   induftry    and  labour  of 
man :    in  which   work,  if  I   have,   in  any 
point,  receded  from  the  opinion   of  the  an- 
cients, I  would  have  it   interpreted  as  done 
with  a  defign  of  proceeding  in  melius^  not  in 
al'md^  with  purppfe  of  amendment  and  profi- 
ciency, and   not  of  change  and  innovation. 
For  1  could  not  be  true  to  myfelf,  nor  to  the 
argument  I  handle,    if  I  were  not  willing  to 
go  beyond  others,  but  yet  not  more  willing 
than  to  have  others   go   beyond  me  again ; 
which  may  the  better  appear  by  this,  that  I 
have  propounded  my  opinions  naked  and  un- 
armed, not  feeking  to  pre-occupy  the  liberty 
of  mens  judgments  by  difputatious  confuta- 
tions. For  in  any  thing  that  is  well  fet  down 
1  am  in  good  hopes,  that  if  the  firfl  reading 
moves  an  objedion,  the  fecond  reading  will 
make  an  anfwer :  and  in  thofe  things  wherein 
I  have  chanced  to  err,  I  am  fure  I  have  of- 
fered no  violence  to  truth  by  litigious  argu- 
ments, which  certainly  have  this  contrary 
efFecl  and  operation,  that  they  add  authority 

to 


35^      ON  THE  MATTER  OF  DIVINITY* 

to  error,  and  deftroy  the  authority  of  that 
which  is  well  invented;  for  controverfy  is 
an  honour  to  falfehood,  as  on  the  other  fide  it 
is  a  repulfe  to  truth.  But  the  errors  I  claim 
and  challenge  to  myfelf  are  my  own.  The 
good,  if  any  be,  is  due,  tanquam  adeps  facri- 
ficll^  to  be  incenfed  to  the  honour  firft  of  the 
Divine  Majefty,  and  next  of  your  Majeftyj 
to  whom  on  earth  I  am  moft  bounden. 


Deo    GLo^i.^r  ^      .. 


Ui-^A:r 


The 


HISTORY    OF    LIFE    AND    DEATH.       353 
T  II  E 

HISTORY 

O    F 

LIFE     AND     DEATH. 

A  NTIENT  is  the  faying  and  complaint, 
that  life  is  Ihort,  and  art  long.    There- 
fore our  labours  intending  to  perfed   arts, 
we  fhould,  by  the  affiftance  of  the  author  of 
truth  and  lite,  confider  by  what  means  the 
life  of  man  may  be  prolonged.      For  long 
life  being  an    increaiing  heap  of  fins   and 
forrows   lightly  efleemed  of  Chriftians   af- 
piring  to   Heaven,  fliould  not    be  defpifed, 
becaufe  it  affords  longer  opportunity  of  do- 
ing good  works.     Moreover  Amatus  furvived 
the  other  difciples,  and  many  fathers;  efpe- 
cially  many  holy  Monks  and  Hermits,  liv- 
ed very   long,  whereby  it  feems    that  this 
bleffing  of  long  life  (fo  often   repeated    in 
the  law)  was   after  our  Saviour's  time  lefs 
dimlnifhed  than  other  earthly  benedictions. 
But  the  happinefs  of    long  life  is  naturally 

Vol.  II.  A  a  dehred, 


354         HISTOUY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

defired,  although  the  means  to  attahi  it, 
through  fah'e  ophiions  and  vain  reports,  be 
hard  to  find  ;  the  general  opinion  of  phy- 
ficians  concerning  radical  moifture,  and  natu- 
ral heat  being  decciveable,  and  the  immode- 
rate praife  of  chymical  medicine  poffefiing 
others  with  hop'^s  which  prove  fallacious. 

That  which  admits  reparation,  remain- 
ing whole  and  found  in  effence,  may  be 
eternally  preferved,  as  the  veftal  fire,  where- 
upon phylicians  and  philofophers  perceiv- 
ing that  the  bodies  of  living  creatures,  be- 
ing nourifhed,  repaired,  and  refrefhed,  grew 
old  afterwards,  and  fpeedily  perifhed;  they 
fought  death  in  an  irreparable  fubje£l,  fup- 
pofing  radical  moifture  incapable  of  folid 
reparation,  from  infancy  there  being  no  jufl 
reparation,  but  an  unlike  addition,  fenfibly 
decayed  by  age,  and  at  lafl:  corrupted  and 
diffolved.  This  conceit  of  theirs  was  igno- 
rant and  vain,  for  young  living  creatures  be- 
ing all  over  and  wholly  repaired,  do  by 
their  increafing  in  quantity,  and  growing 
better  in  quality,  fhew  that  if  the  meafure 
and  manner  of  repairing  decayed  not, 
the  matter  of  it  might  be  eternal.  But 
the  decay  in  repairing  proceeds  from  its 
4  inequality 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH,         355 

inequality  of  fome  parts  fufficiently,  others 
hardly  and  badly  in  age,  the  bodies  of 
men  beginning  thereby  to  undergo  Me- 
%eitius^s  torment,  living  in  the  embraces  ot 
the  dead  until  their  total  extindion,  though 
eafily  reparable,  yet  through  fome  par- 
ticular difficulty  in  the  nutrition,  decay. 
For  fpirits,  blood,  fiefh,  and  fatnefs,  are 
in  the  declining  eflate  of  age  eafily  replen- 
ished, but  there  is  much  difficulty  and  danger 
in  repairing  the  dry  and  porous  parts,  asm.em- 
branes,  tunicles,  nerves,  arteries,  veins, 
griftles,  moil  of  the  bowels,  and  all  the 
organical  and  inflrumental  parts.  For 
when  thofe  parts  that  flioujd  perform  their 
office,  to  other  adually  reparable  parts, 
being  decayed  in  ftrength  cannot  execute 
their  office,  a  general  ruin  follows,  and 
parts  naturally  reflorable,  through  ^t^t€t^ 
tive  organs  of  reparation,  decreafe  and  de- 
cay. For  the  fpirit,  like  a  light  flame, 
continually  feeds  on  bodies,  and  the  ex-? 
ternal  air  confpiring  therewith,  fucks  and 
dries  the  fabric  and  inflruments  of  the 
body,  which  are  thereby  decayed,  and 
made  unfit  to  perform  the  office  of  re^ 
paiang.  And  thefe  are  the  true  ways 
A  a  a  wher^ 


356  HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

whereby  natural  death  approaches,  de-. 
ferving  due  confideration:  For  how  can 
natures  courfe,  if  unknown,  be  helped 
or  prevented  :  therefore  the  means  where- 
by the  confumption,  or  decay  of  man*s 
body  may  be  prevented,  and  the  repair- 
ing thereof  furthered,  are  moft  precious^ 
and  worth  knowing.  The  fpirits  and  air 
without  are  the  chief  caufes  of  confump- 
tion, and  the  general  progrefs  of  nourilli- 
ment  is  the  caufc  of  reftoration.  For  the 
fpirit  within  and  the  air  without,  works 
on  dead  bodies,  flriving  alfo  to  produce 
in  living  bodies  the  fame  effeds,  though 
weakened  and  retrained  by  the  vital  fpi- 
rits, and  partly  increafed  by  them.  For 
bodies  without  life  do  a  long  while  fubfift 
and  endure  without  reparation :  but  the 
life  of  creatures,  without  due  nourifhment 
and  reparation  fuddenly  '  decays,  and  is 
extinguiihed  like  fire.  Therefore  a  two- 
fold fearch  is  required,  confidering  man's 
body  as  lifelefs  and  unnourifhed ;  and  as 
living,  and  nourifhed. 


OK 


I 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         357 


On    the  durability  of    NATURE. 

A/TETALS  are  very  durable,   and  conti- 
nue beyond  all  obfervation,     age   and 
ruft,    not  perfpiration  niakiog    them  decay, 
gold   excepted. 

Quick-filver  being  a  moifl  and  foft  fub- 
ftance,  is  eafily  rarined  by  the  fire,  but 
without  fire  neither  decays  by  age  or  ga- 
thers  rufl. 

The  harder  fort  of  flones,  and  many  Mine- 
rals, though  expofed  to  the  open  air,  are 
very  durable,  though  much  more  fo  lying 
in  the  earth. 

Stones  gather  a  kind  of  folder  infiead  of 
rafl ;  but  pearls  and  cryftal,  though  their 
clearnefs  decays  through  age,  are  more  dura- 
ble than  Metals. 

Stones  on  the  north  fide  of  pyramids, 
churches,  and  other  buildings,  decay  fooner 
than  on  the  fouth-fide,  and  confume;  but 
iron,  as  appears  by  iron  bars  of  windows, 
on  the  fouth-fide  begin  fooner  than  the 
north- fide  to  rull:.  For  in  all  putrefadion 
(as  rufl;  moifiiure  haftens  diffolution,  and 
drynefs  withering, 

Aa  3  1'he 


35^         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

The  flocks  and  bodies  of  hard  trees  being 
felled,  and  hewn  into  timber,  or  framed 
into  works,  lafl:  many  ages,  yet  their  bo- 
dies differ ;  fome  being  hollow,  as  the  el- 
der-tree, outwardly  hard,  but  having  a 
foft  pith  in  the  middle.  But  of  folid 
trees,  fuch  as  the  oak,  the  inward  part 
(called  the  heart  of  the  oak)  is  hardefl:. 

The  leaves  and  ftalks  of  plants  and  flow- 
ers continue  not  long,  but  either  dif- 
folve  into  dufl,  or  rot :  roots  are  more  du- 
rable. 

Bones  of  living  creatures  laft  long,  as 
appears  by  dead  bones  lying  in  charnel- 
houfes.  Horns  alfo  are  very  durable,  and 
teeth,    as  ivory,  and  fea-horfe  teeth. 

Hides  alfo  and  ikins  endure  long,  as  it  is 
evident  by  ancient  parchment-books:  paper 
alfo  will  lafl  many  ages,  though  not  fo 
long  as  parchment. 

Glass  and  burned  bricks,  alfo  roafled  flefli 
and  fruits  lafl  longer  than  raw,  becaufe  the 
roafling  prevents  putrefaction;  and  by  eva- 
cuating and  venting  the  watery  humour, 
preferves  longer  the  oily  humour. 

Water  is  foonefl;  devoured  and  dried  by 
the  air;    oil   on    the   contrary,    evaporates 

flowlv. 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         ^^g^ 

flowly,  which  in  liquors  and  mixtures  may- 
be difcerned.  For  paper  wetted  with  water  is 
at  firft  tranfparent,  but  afterward  waxes 
white  and  clear  again,  lofnig  that  former 
tranfparency,  the  vapour  of  the  water  be- 
ing exhaled:  but  paper  dipped  in  oil,  is 
a  long  while  tranfparent,  the  oil  not  being 
exhaled  :  fo  that  writings,  by  laying  on 
them  an  oiled  paper,  and  carefully  draw- 
ing  the  letters  difcerned  through  the  pa- 
per, may  be  counterfeited. 

All  Gums  are  very  durable,  as  alfowax 
and  honey. 

Other  accidents  alfo,  as  well  as  their  own 
nature,  make  bodies  endure  or  decay.  For 
wood  and  flones,  lying  continually  in  the 
water,  or  air,  endure  longer  than  if  they 
were  fometimes  wet  and  over-flowed;  and 
flones  placed  in  buildings  north  or  fouth, 
as  they  lye  in  the  mines,  are  more  dura- 
ble; and  plants  live  longer  being  remo- 
v^d  and  tranfplanted. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

IT  is  a  certain  pofition,   that  all  bodies 

which  may  be  touched,  have  a  fpirit  with 

A  a  4  tau- 


60  HISTORY  OF   T.TFE  AND  DEATif, 


tangible  parts,  covered  andinclofed,  being  the 
original  caufe  of  dillolution  and  confump-* 
tion,  prevented  by  detaining  of  the  fpirit. 

The  fpirit  is  detained,  either  violently 
when  condenfed  and  confined,  or  volun- 
tarily ;  the  fpirits  being  flack,  and  inactive 
in  motion,  and  the  air  does  not  urge  it 
to  vent  and  Iflue  forth:  for  hardnefs  and 
oilynefs  being  durable  qualities,  do  bind, 
fupple,  and  feed  the  fpirit,  and  keep  it 
from  the  corruption  of  the  air,  which  is  in 
iiibflance  like  water,  as  flame  to  oil. 


OF  THE  LONGEVITY  OF  PLANTS. 

/^OLD  Herbs  with  their  roots  and  ftalks 
do  every  year  fpring,  and  die  ;  as  lettuce, 
purflane,  wheat,  and  all  kind  of  corn :  yet 
the  colder  fort  of  herbs  endure  three  or  four 
years,  as  the  violet,  ftrawberry,  primrofe, 
burnet,  and  forrell:  but  borage  and  buglofs 
are  fhort  lived ;  borage  living  a  year,  buglofs 
Ibmewhat  longer. 

Hot  herbs  bear  their  age  and  years  better, 
as  hyfop,  thyme,  favory,  marjoram,  balm, 
mint,   worm- wood,    germander,   fage,    &c. 

Fennels 


HtSTORY  OF   LIFE  AND  DEATIL          361 

Fennel,  after  the  flalk  is  dead,  buds  forth 
again  from  the  root :  but  pulfe  and  fweet 
marjoram  can  better  endure  age  than  win- 
ter, and  will  live  and  fiourifli  being  fet  in 
Ji  warm  place,  and  defended  from  cold.  For 
a  knot  of  hyfTop,  an  ufual  ornament  of 
gardens,  being  twice  clipped  yearly,  hai 
continued  forty  years, 

Buflies  and  ihrubs  llye  threefcore  years, 
and  fome  double  as  much.  A  vine  of  fix- 
ty  years  old  is  fruitful  in  age:  rofemary 
well  fet  and  planted,  lives  fixty  years  :  bat 
bears-foot  and  ivy  endure  above  an  hun- 
dred years.  The  age  of  the  refpafs  is  not 
difcerned,  becaufe  the  head  bendinp-  to  the 
earth,  gets  new  roots  hard  to  be  perceived 
from  the   old. 

The  oldeft  great  trees  are,  tlie  Oak, 
the  Holm,  wild-Afh,  Elm,  Beech,  Chef- 
nut,  Plane-ti^e,  Fig-tree,  Lot-tree,  wild- 
Olive,  Palm,  and  IMulberry;  fome  where- 
of live  800  years,  and  others   100. 

The  wood  of  fweet  rozen  trees  is  more 
durable  than  themfelves  are  in  age;  alfo 
the  Cyprufs,  Maple,  Pine,  Box,  and  Ju- 
mper, live  not  fo  long  as  the  former  trees, 
bnt  tbe  tall  Cedar  is  as   long-lived. 

.^  The 


362         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

The  Afh  forward  in  bearing  fruit,  reach* 
eth  to  100  years  or  more,  and  alfo  the  Cane, 
Maple,  and  Service-tree.  But  the  Poplar, 
Willow,  Sycamore,  and  Walnut-tree,  live 
not  fo  long. 

The  Apple,  Pear,  Plumb-tree,  Pomegra- 
nate, Orange,  Citron,  Medlar,  Dog-tree, 
and  Cherry-tree,  being  cleared  from  mofs, 
may  live  fifty  or  fixty  years. 

Great  trees  are  generally  long  lived, 
and  of  a  hard  fubftance ;  Mafl-trees,  and 
Nut-trees  live  longer  than  fruit,  and  Berry- 
trees  :  and  thofe  whofe  leaves,  pufh  out  flow- 
ly,  and  fall  off,  continue  longer  than  trees 
more  forward  in  producing  fruit  and  leaves; 
alfo  wild  foreft-trees  live  longer  than  or- 
chard, trees,  and  fharp  friiit-trees  than  fweet 
fruit-trees. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

Aristotle  well  obferved  the  difference 
between  plants  and  living  creatures,  in  ref- 
pe6t  of  nourilhment  and  repairing  ;  namely, 
that  the  body  of  living  creatures  is  con- 
f  ned  within  certain  bounds,  and  coming 
to  a  due  proportion,  is  continued  and  pre- 

ferved 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH*.  ^6^ 

ferved  by  nourifhment  :  nothing  that  Is  new 
growhig  forth,  except  hair  and  nails,  ac- 
counted excrements,  whereby  the  vigour 
and  ftrength  of  living  creatures  mufh  ne- 
cefiarlly  fooner  decay  and  wax  old  :  but 
trees  putting  forth  new  boyghs,  branches, 
and  leaves,  thofe  renewed  parts  being  young, 
green,  and  flourifhing,  more  ftrongly  and 
cheerfully  attract  nourifhment  than  dry 
branches,  whereby  the  body,  through  which 
fuch  nouriflmient  pafles  to  the  boughs,  is 
moiflened  with  more  plentiful  nourifhment. 
This  (though  not  obferved  by  Ariftotle, 
nor  clearly  difcufled  )  is  evident,  becaufe 
woods  and  trees,  by  lopping  their  boughs 
and  branches,  flourifh  more,  and  live  longer. 


OF      DRYNESS. 

T)  Y  fire  and  vehement  heat    fomc    fub- 
-*-^  fiances  are  dried,  others  melted. 

It  dries  the  earth,  flones,  wood,  cloth, 
and  (kins,  and  melts  metals,  wax,  gum, 
fuet,  and   the  like. 

It 


5^4  HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEAT{I* 

But  fire  being  vehement,  at  lafl  dries 
up  that  which  it  has  melted:  for  a  hot  fire 
makes  metals  (except  gold)  by  evaporation 
lighter  in  weiglit,  and  more  brittle.  And 
ojily  oily  fubilances  are  by  a  hot  fire  fried 
a,nd  roafted,   becoming  m.ore  dry  and  hard. 

The  open  air  dries,  but  never  melts  ;  as 
highways,  and  the  face  of  the  earth  wet 
with  fhowers,  are  hereby  dried;  and  alfo 
liiien-cloaths  hanged  out  in  the  air,  and 
herbs,  leaves,  and  -flowers  growing  in  the 
ihade  :  and  the  r^ir  warmed  with  the  Sun- 
beams, (not  difpofing  it  to  putrefaction  )  or 
moved  w^ith  winds^  dries  much  more  on  an 
open  plain* 

Age  is  a  great  but  flow  drier;  for  all 
natural  bodies  not  rotting  or  putrefying,  are 
dried  by  age,  being  the  meafure  of  time, 
and  the  efi:e6l  of  the  in-bred  fpirit  of  bodies, 
fucking  out  the  bodies  moifture,  thereby  de- 
caying, and  of  outward  air,  multiplying 
above  the  inward  fpirlts  and  moiflure  of 
the  body,  and  fo  deftroying  them. 

Cold  mofl:  properly  dries,  for  drynefs  pro- 
ceeds from  Ihrinking  and  gathering  together, 
being  the  proper  efi-ect  of  cold  :  but  by  the 
powerful  warmth  of  fire,  abating  the  weak- 
er 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.  365 

cr  cold  of  winter,  froft,  and  fnow,  the  dry- 
nefs  of  cold  is  not  on  men  fo  powerful,  but 
iboner  diffipated :  yet  froft,  and  jNIarch  winds 
being  dry  and  cold,  lick  up  moiflure,  and 
dry  the  earth  more  than  the  fun. 

Chimncy-fmoak  is  a  drier;  for  bacon  and 
neats  tongues  are  hung  and  dry'd  in  chim- 
nies,  and  perfumes  of  fweet-wood  and  Oly^ 
banum  drying  the  brain,  flops  diftiliations 
and  Catarrhs. 

Salt  dries  (lowly  both  without  and  within, 
making  fait  fifli,  through  long  faking,  hard 
within. 

By  the  application  of  fome  hot  gums  and 
binding  waters  the  fkin  is  dried,'  and  tilled 
with  wrinkles. 

The  fpirit  of  flrong  wine  drying  like  fire, 
will  make  the  yolk  of  an  egg  put  into  it, 
become  white,  and  bake  bread. 

Powders  dry,  and  fuck  up  moiflures  like 
fpunges,  or  as  find-dufl:  thrown  on  a  writ- 
ing, dries  the  ink:  alfo  the  fmoothncfs  and 
uniformity  of  a  body  (not  admitting  moifture 
to  enter  by  'the  pores)  accidentally  caufes 
drynefs,  by  expofing  the  body  to  the  air  ; 
48  jewels,  looking-glaflies,  and  fword-blades, 
being  breathed  on,  fcem  at  Urll  to  be  cover- 


366  HISTORY  OF   LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

ed  with  a  vapour,    which  vanifhes   after- 
wards  like  a  cloud.    • 

In  the  eaft  part  of  Germany,  granaries 
are  ufualij  made  in  cellars  under  ground, 
whereiu  wheat  and  other  grains  are  kept  in 
flraw,  which  being  laid  to  a  good  thicknefs, 
expels  and  drinks  up  the  moifture  of  the 
vault.  Corn  is  kept  thus  twenty  or  thirty 
years  from  putrefadion,  and  both  green  and 
ferviceable  to  make  bread.  The  like  gra- 
naries have  been  ufed  in  divers  countries,,  as 
in  Cappadocia,  Thrace y  and  alfu  in  Spain. 

Fruits,  as  Pomegranates,  Citrons,  Me- 
lons, Pears,  and  the  like,  and  alfo  flowers, 
as  Rofes  and  Lillies,  will  keep  long  in  earth- 
en veffels  well  flopped,  although  the  air, 
their  outward  enemy,  lets  in  through  the 
velTel  unequal  heat  and  cold.  Therefore 
lay  the  veilels  clofely  flopped,  in  the  earth, 
or  in  {haded  waters,  as  in  the  wells  or  Cif- 
terns  of  houfes  ;  but  let  fruits  laid  thus  in 
water,  be  put  in  glafs-veflels  rather  than 
earth  ea. 

Generally,  wdiatfoever  is  laid  under 
tlie  earth,  and  in  cellars  under  ground,  or 
deep  in  waters,  retains  natural  vigour  long- 
-er,  than  if  kept  above  the  earth. 

Bunches 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  EEATH.  367 

Bunches  of  grapes  in  the  country,  kept 
in  meal,  will  tafte  fomewhat  unpleafant, 
but  are  thereby  preferved  molft  and  green, 
alfo  all  hard  fruits  will  keep  long  in  meal, 
or  faw-duft,  or  in  a  heap  of  found  corn. 

Fruits  in  liquors  of  their  kind,  refem- 
bling  their  flowers,  will  keep  frefh,  as 
Grapes  in  Wine,   Olives  in  Oil,  &c. 

Pomegranates  and  Quinces  keep  long, 
being  lightly  dipped  into  the  fea-w^ater,  or 
fait  water,  and  then    dried  in  the  open  air 

Fruits  laid  in  Wine,  Oil,  and  Pickle, 
are  thereby  long  kept.  Honey,  and  fpirits 
of  wine,  preferve  them  longer,  but  efpeci- 
ally  Quick-filver. 

Flies,  Spiders,  and  Ants,  being  acci- 
dentally drowned,  and  buried  in  amber,  and 
the  gums  of  trees,  their  foft  and  tender  bo- 
dies never  rot  or  corrupt. 

The  nature  alfo  and  quality  of  the  nou- 
rifhment,  as  of  the  flame,  makes  candles 
burn  long ;  wax  being  more  durable  than 
fuet ;  and  wet,  than  dry  fuet ;  and'  hard, 
than  foft  wax, 

Trees,  the  earth  about  their  roots  being 
not  every  year,  but  every  five  or  ten  years 

opened, 


g68         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

Opened,  and  the  fuperfluous  boughs  and 
branches  cut  away  and  pruned,  will  lafl 
the  longer.  xMio  dunging  and  fpreading  of 
Marie  about  trees,  or  much  watering  makes 
them  fruitful,  but  not  durable. 

Willow-twigs,  ferving  nfually  to  bind 
trees,  fteeped  in  water,  become  more  flexi- 
ble: rods  are  fet  in  pitchers  of  watea*  to  keep 
them  from  drying,  and  bowls  cleft  with 
drynefs,  being  laid  in  the  water  clofe  again. 

Old  trees  having  flood  long  without 
removing,  if  the  earth  be  opened  about 
their  roots,  will  begin  to  put  forth,  an4 
ilourifh. 

Old  fpent  oxen  taken  from  the  plough, 
being  put  into  frefh  paflures,  recover  new 
tender  flefh,  and  as  fweet  as  if  it  were  of  sj 
ftcer. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

!MEN,  like  owls,  wondrous  fharp-fightevl 
in  the  darknefs  of  their  own  opinions,  i\re 
blinded  with  the  day-light  of  experience,    . 

The  quality  of  drynefs,  in  confuming  and 
deflroying  the  textuKC  of  bodies,  has  beea 


History  of  life  and  death.      369 

generally  obferved ;  but  its  gradual  procefs 
m  producing  that  efFe£l  has  not  been  noticed. 
The  natural  fpirits  contained  in  bodies  are 
the  original  caufes  of  it ;  firft,  in  the  refining 
moiflure  into  fpirit;  fecondly,  by  their  evar 
poration;  thirdly,  by  the  folid  particles  ap- 
proaching to  one  another  from  that  evacua- 
tion. The  fpirits  enclofed  in  every  tangible 
body  are  perpetually  employed  in  altering 
^nd  converting  to  themfelves  the  particles 
capable  of  digeftion  ;  and  therefore  encreafe 
their  quantity:  this  is  evident  from  fub- 
ftances  lofing  their  weight  by  drynefs;  be- 
coming hollow  and  full  of  pores,  and  yield- 
ing an  inward  found:  for  by  refining  and 
converting  to  themfelves  the  grofs  moiflure 
of  bodies,  they  become  lighter.  The  eva- 
poration of  the  fpirits  is  evident  from  fteams 
and  vapours,  or  by  the  fmell  of  decaying 
odours ;  but  in  age,  by  a  gradual  and  infenfible 
perfpiration.  Moreover,  In  clofe  compad  bo- 
dies, finding  no  pores  to  efcape  through,  they 
€xpel  the  particles  that  refifl:  their  motion  to 
the  furface  ;  which  produces  rufl  in  metals, 
and  mouldinefs  in  undluous  fubftances. 

The  contradlion  of  bodies,  from  the  IpiritS 
flying  off,  though  more  obfcure  in  the  opera- 

VoL.  II.  Bb  tioii, 


^JO         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH* 

tion,  is  no  lefs  certain ;  for  the  fol id  particles 
contra(^  and  approach  nearer  to  one  another, 
in  order  to  fill  the  vacant  fpaces  the  fpirits 
formerly  occupied.      This  is  evident  from 
wooden    fubftances  flirlnking,    and    fome- 
times  opening  into  clefts.     It  is  further  evi- 
dent by  withered  bodies  growing  ihrivelled. 
For  by  contraction  fome  parts  are  feparated, 
and  others  drawn  clofe  into  wrinkles;    fuch 
as  paper,  parchment,  and  others,  when  ex- 
pofed  to  fire  ihrivelup;  for  heat  produces 
fuddenly,  what  is  llowly  and  infenfibly  per- 
formed by  age.     When  the  fpirits  and  moif- 
ture  in  bodies  are  entirely  exhaufted,    the 
parts  no  longer  uniting  are  refolved  into  a 
mafs  of  duft,  which  diffipate  by  the  touch  i 
fuch  as  burnt  paper,  embalmed  carcaffes   &c. 
Fire  produces  drynefs  only  accidentally ; 
for  by  refining  the  fpirits  they  fly  ofi",  and 
the  folid  particles  unite  to  fill  the  vacuities, 
Drynefs    and    putrefadion,    though  arlfing 
from  the  fame  caufe,  are  different ;  ^  for  in  the 
latter  fome  parts  are^detained,  which,  by  an 
infenfible  operation  on  the  particles  that  have 
not  changed  their  place  by  contradion,  pro- 
duce  an  uniformity  in  the  whole  mafs. 

OP 


History  of  life  and  death,      371 


OF     THE 


DURATION  OF  LIFE  in  ANIMALS. 

(CONCERNING  the  length  and  fhortnefs 
of  life  in  living  creatures,  obfervations 
are  light  and  fabulous  :  the  unkindly  life  of 
tame    creatures   being  -  corrupted,    and   the 
life  of  wild  beafts  by  enduring  hard  and  hot 
.weather,  fhortened.     Neither  do  the  great- 
nefs  of  their  bodies,   time  of  bearing,  num- 
her  of  young  ones,  or  time  of  growth,  fome- 
times  concurring  together,   fometimes   dif- 
joined,   afford  any  certain  obferyatioiis. 

Of  all  living  creatures,  except  fome  £t\v, 
it  is  reported,  that  man  lives  longefl,  in 
whom  all  concomitant  accidents  meet  in  due 
proportion:  ftature  great  and  large;  bear- 
ing  in  the  womb  nine  months,  one  off-fpring 
commonly;  growth  till  twenty. 

The  Elephant  lives  longer  than  any  man 
does  ordinarily  :  his  bearing  in  the  womb 
ten  years  is  a  fabulous  report,  or  above  a 
year.  His  bulk  or  body  is  exceeding  great, 
growing  twenty  years;  and  his  teeth  are 
very  flrong.  The  Elephant  is  obferved  to 
^  ^  ^  hzv9 


jyZ        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

have  the  coldefl  blood  of  all  other  living 
creatures,  and  an  hundred  years,  to  which 
fometimes  he  attains,  is  his  age. 

Lions  are  accounted  long  lived,  many 
having  been  found  toothlefs,  caufed  perhaps 
by  their  violent  breathing,  and  therefore 
Is  no  certain  fign  of  age. 

The  bear  is  a  great  fleeper,  a  flow  and 
fluggifh  beafl:,  born  by  the  dam  not  above 
forty  days,  being  a  iign  of  ihort  life. 

The  fox  is  well  Ikin'd,  feeds  on  flefli, 
and  lives  in  caves,  but  not  long  lived,  be- 
ing a  kind  of  dog,  which  is  a  Hiort  lived  beafl* 
'  The  Camel  being  a  flender  ftrong  beafl^ 
lives  ordinarily  fifty  years,  fometimes  an 
hundred. 

The  Horfe  feldom  attains  to  forty  years 
of  age,  his  ordinary  age  being  twenty  years, 
but  grows  until  he  is  fix  years  old ;  and  ^ 
mare  goes  eleven  months,  and  hath  feldom 
two  foals. 

The  Afs  live&  as  long  as  the  horfe,  but 
rhe  Mule  is  longer  lived  than  both. 

The  Hart  is  famous  for  his  long  life; 
for  about  the  neck  of  a  hart  a  chain  hid, 
and  covered  over  with  fat  Was  found,  which 
had  been  put  on  many  years  before^  But 
""^ecaufe  at  five  years  the  hart  comes  to  per- 

fedion. 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH,         ^^i 

fe£tion,  and  his  horns  having  at  firfl:  but  a 
few  branches,  do  then  fprout  forth,  and 
^ifterwards  fall  off,  and  grow  again  every 
year ;  therefore  his  age  is  not  fo  currently 
believed. 

.  The  fliort  lived  dog  lives  but  twenty 
years,  being  his  utmofl  age;  his  ordinary 
age  fourteen  years.  His  difpofition  is  hot 
and  fickle,  always  violently  ftirring  about, 
or  deeping.  The  bitch  brings  forth  many 
whelps  at  one  litter,  and  goeth  nine  weeks.f 

The  Ox  being  a  flow  beaft,  full  of  flefh, 
foon  fatted,  and  fed  with  grafs,  is  fhort-llv- 
ed  in  refpect  of  his  fize  and  ftrength,  fix- 
teen  years  being  his  age;  which  is  longer 
than  the  cow  lives,  bringing  forth  but  one 
calf,  and  going  with  her  burthen  fix  months* 

The  Sheep,  a  beafl  of  a  midling  fizcL, 
having  little  gall,  and  well  cloathed  with 
a  warm  fleece,  more  curled  than  other  beafts 
hair,  feldom  comes  to  the  age  often  years. 

Rams  at  three  years  old  begin  to  engen- 
der, and  untlU  eighteen  years  of  age  do  be- 
get lambs.  A  fiieep  being  fubje6t  to  many 
difeafes  feldom  lives  out  his  utmofl  age. 

The  Goat,  fomewhat  refembling  the  fheep, 

{ives  no  longer,  but  is  nimbler,  and  firmer 

B  b  3  flclhed 


HISTORY  OP  LIFE  AND  DEATH* 

flefhed,  and  fhould  be  therefore  longer  \\v-* 
ed,  but  lafcivloufnefs  fhortens   his  life. 

The  fow  lives  fifteen  years,  fometimes 
twenty,  being  moifter  flefhed  than  other 
beafts,  but  not  long-lived.  The  age  of  the 
wild  boar  and  fow,  is  not  certainly  known. 

The  cats  age  is  fix  or  ten  years,  being 
a  nimble,  fierce,  ravenous  beaft,  not  chew- 
ing his  food,  but  devouring  and  fwallowing 
it  whole,  and  his  feed  ( as  j^Hanus  faith) 
burns  the  female,  conceiving  with  much 
pain,  but  kittening  eafily. 
'  Hares  and  conies  hardly  live  {tv^n 
years,  being  breeding  creatures,  knitting 
and  conceiving  again  immediately  after  their 
bringing  forth  young.  The  coney  lives 
under  ground,  the  hare  fitteth  in  open  air, 
and  has  darker  flefh. 

Birds  are  lelTer  bodied  than  beafls,  an  ox 
or  horfe  being  far  bigger  than  an  eagle  or 
fwan,  and  an  elephant  than  an  oflridge* 

Birds  are  well  cloathed  with  feathers, 
lying  clofe  down  to  their  bodies,  and  being 
warmer  than  beafts  wool  or  hair. 

Birds  though  great  breeders,  carry  not 
their  young  in  their   belly,  but  lay   their 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         ^'J $ 

i?ggs  feverally,    producing  yoimg  birds  by 
hatching. 

Birds  chew  not  their  food,  being  often 
found  whole  in  their  crop;  but  they  will 
pick  out  nut-kernels,  and  the  feeds  of  herb* 
and  flowers,  and  they  are  of  a  flrong  hot  di- 
geftion. 

Birds  fly  with  a  mixed  motion,  being 
born  up  by  the  air,  and  their  wings,  whofe 
motion  exercifes  their  bodies* 

Aristotle  obferves,  that  when  birds 
engender  by  treading,  the  cock  begets  not 
the  eggs  fubflance,  but  makes  it  fit  to  hatch ; 
fo  that  fruitful  eggs  are  hardly  known  from 
unhatchable  eggs. 

Birds  bodies  are  in  one  year's  growth  at 
their  full  bignefs;  but  their  feathers  and 
bills  grow  feven  years  afterward. 

The  eagle  cafling  her  bill,  and  fo  becom- 
ing young,  is  the  emblem  of  long  life,  her 
age  being  a  proverb  :  Aqiiil^efenediusi  "  The 
*'  age  of  an  eagle:"  yet  the  eagles  growing 
young  changes  not  her  beak,  but  her  beak 
changing  makes  the  eagle  young ;  for  the 
eagle  feeds  very  painfully  and  with  difficulty 
when  her  bill  is  grown  extremely  crooked. 

The  vulture  lives    an    hundred  years. 

Crows  alfo,  and  all  ravenous  birds  feeding  on 

Bb4  flefh; 


^y6      HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

flefh,  are  long  lived;  but  the  hawk  living 
not  according  to  his  own  kind,  but  being 
kept  in  bondage  for  private  delight  and  re- 
creation, his  term  of  life  is  therefore  not 
certainly  known  ;  though  fome  fay  hawks 
have  lived  thirty  years. 

The  long-lived  raven  lives  an  hundred 
years :  he  feeds  on  carrion,  and  flies  not 
.often,  but  fits  much,  and  has  very  black 
flefh.  The  crow  refembling  the  raven ^ 
though  not  fo  big,  nor  like  in  voice,  lives 
almofl  as  long,  being  accounted  a  long  lived 
bird. 

The  fair  feathered  fwan  feeds  on  fifh, 
fwims  continually  on  running  flreams  and 
-rivers,  and  an  hundred  years  is  his  age. 

The  goofe,  though  his  food  is  grafs,  is 
long-lived,  efpecially  the  wild-goofe ;  fo 
that  in  Germany  this  proverb  is  common : 
■}/Iag'i5  fenex  quam  anfer  nivalis:  "  Older  than 
*•  a  white  goofe,'* 

Storks  are  long-lived;  becaufe  they  ne- 
ver came  to  Thebes,  a  city  often  facked,  it 
was  therefore  obferved,  that  they  did  either 
circumfpe6lly  inftrud  their  young  ones  iu 
the  Theban  hiflory,  or  remembered  the  paf- 

fages 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH,        377 

fages  of  former  ages  wherein  they  lived  ;  and 
fo  this  fable  pointed  at  their  long  life. 

Concerning  the  phoenix,  truth  is  loft  in 
fables.  It  is  chiefly  obfervable,  that  other 
birds,  when  this  bird  flew  abroad,  wondered 
not  at  her,  as  they  do  by  inflindt  of  nature  at 
an  owl  flying  by  day-light,  or  a  parrot 
efcaping  out  of  a  cage. 

The  parrot  brought  into  England  has  lived 
threefcore  years,  being  a  bird  that  eats  any 
kind  of  meat,  chews  his  food,  changes  his 
bill,  is  of  a  churlifh  angry  difpofition,  and 
has  black  fiefh. 

The  peacock  has  a  flow  pace,  and  white 
flefh,  living  twenty  years;  and  when  three 
years  old  his  tail,  hke  Argus\  eves,  is  fpec- 
kled  and  adorned. 

The  cock  is  lecherous,  a  courageous 
lighter,   and  fhort-lived,  having  white  flefh. 

The  turky,  or  Indian  coek,  fomewhat 
longer  lived  than  the  cock,  is  a  tefty,  angry 
bird,  and  has  very  white  flefh. 

The  ring-dove  being  an  airy  bird,  loving 
to  build  and  fit  high,  is  long-lived,  fifty 
years  being  her  age.  But  pigeons  and  tur- 
tles are  fhort-liyed,  their  ^ge  being  eight 
years, 

Phea- 


j;?      HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.' 

Pheasants  and  partridges  live  fixteen 
years,  being  great  breeders,  but  blacker 
flefhed  than  chickens  or  pullets. 

The  lafcivlous  loud-whiftling  black-bird 
is,  of  all  fmall  birds,  longeft  lived. 

The  fparrow  is  fbort-lived,  the  cock-fpar-» 
row  ihortening  his  life  by  wanton  lafclviouf- 
nefs.  The  linnet  and  finch,  though  no  big- 
ger than  the  fparrow,   live  twenty  years. 

The  oftrich's  age  is  uncertain,  and  life  not 
long,  as  by  tame  oflriches  it  is  obferved. 

The  age  of  fiilies  lefs  obferved,  becaufc 
living  under  water  is  more  uncertain  than 
the  age  of  beafts.  Some  of  them  breathe 
not,  their  vital  fpirits  being  kept  clofe,  and 
cooled  by  their  gills,  but  not  fo  conflantly 
as  by  breathing. 

The  air  dries  not,  nor  decays  their  bodies, 
becaufe  the  water  wherein  they  live,  enconv 
paffing  them,  pierces  into  their  pores  ;  having 
greater  power  than  encompaffing  air  to  flior^ 
ten  their  lives. 

They  are  ravenous  devourers  of  their  own 
kind,  having  cold  blood,  and  foft  flefh,  not 
fo  firm  as  beafts  flefh,  but  fatter,  an  infinite 
quantity  of  oil  being  made  of  the  fat  of 
whales. 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        ^19^ 

'■  Dolphins  live  thirty  years ;  for  fome 
whofe  tails  were  cut  off,  thirty  years  after- 
wards being  taken,  were  known  :  they  grow 
ten  years. 

It  is  ojbfervable,  and  very  ftrange,  that 
fiflies  bodies  grow  flender  with  age,  their 
tail  and  head  retaining  their  former  bignefs. 

In  fifh-ponds  belonging  to  the  Roman 
emperor,  lampreys  living  threefcore  years, 
by  long  keeping  were  made  tame;  one  of 
their  deaths  being  therefore  lamented  by  Craf-^ 
Jus  the  Orator. 

The  pike,  of  all  frefh-water  fifh,  is  lon- 
geft  lived,  forty  years  being  his  age :  he  is  a 
ravenous  devourer,  and  his  flefh  in  eating  is 
dry  and  firm. 

The  carp,  bream,  tench,  and  eel,  live 
not  above  ten  years. 

Salmon  are  of  a  fudden  growth,  but  fhort- 
lived,  and  alfo  trout :  but  the  perch  grows 
flowly,  and  lives  longer. 

The  age  of  the  whale,  fea-calf,  fea-hog, 
and  other  fifhes  is  unknown. 

The  long-lived  crocodile  always  growing, 

is   a  devouring,   cruel    creature,    that   lays 

eggs;   and  the  water  pierces  not  his  fkin, 

J  being 


^So      HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

being  fcaly  and  hard.     The  age  of  othe^ 
flieil-£fli  is  unknown-. 


OBSERVATIONS, 


Concerning  the  length  and  fliortnefs  of 
the  life  of  living  creatures,  hitherto  negli-- 
gently  obferved,  and  proceeding  from  divers 
caufes,  inftead  of  certain  rules  hard  to  find, 
theie  notes  follov/ing  may  be  added. 

Birds  are  longer- lived  than  beafts,  as'the 
eagle  vulture,  pelican,  kite,  raven,  crow, 
fwan^  goofe,  flork,  crane,  parrot,  ring-dove, 
&c.  though  they  are  leffer,  and  in  one  year 
at  their  full  growth.  For  birds  are  long- 
lived,  becaufe  they  are  well  clothed  with 
warm  feathers  to  keep  out  cold,  and  live  in 
the  free  open  air,  as  mountaineers  do;  or 
becaufe  when  they  fly  they  are  carried  by 
the  air  and  their  wings,  this  mixed  motion 
makes  them  healthy;  or  becaufe  birds  are 
not  pined  for  want  of  nourifhment,  or 
compreffed  in  the  egg,  the  old  bird  laying 
them  by  turns  ;  but  efpecially  becaufe  birds 
partaking  more  of  the  hen's  fubflance  than 

of 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        jSl 

of  the  cock's,  have  not  fuch  fharp  and  hot 
fpirits. 

It  is  a  pofition,  that  living  creatures  be- 
gotten by  a  greater  quantity  of  the  dam*s 
feed,  as  birds  are,  than  of  the  fire's,  and  ly- 
ing longer  in  their  dam's  belly,  partaking 
more  of  the  dam's  feed  than  the  fire's,  are 
therefore  longer  lived  :  and  it  is  obfervable, 
that  men  being  in  vifage  and  countenance 
more  like  their  mother  than  their  father,  live 
longefl;  as  thofe  children  do  which  found 
and  healthful  men  beget  on  young  wives. 

Living  creatures  may  receive  much  hurt 
or  good  in  their  firft  breeding ;  for  fuch  as 
lie  not  too  clofe  together  in  the  belly  of  the 
dam,  but  have  fuificient  nourifhment,  are 
long-lived ;  as  the  eggs  of  birds  laid  by  turns, 
and  the  youjig  of  beafts,  bringing  but  one 
at  a  yeaning,  have  room  enough  and  nourifh- 
ment. 

Long  bearing  in  the  mother's  womb,  anJ 
the  dam's  belly,  is  for  thiee  refpe^ls  a  caufe 
cf  long  life.  Firfl,  the  offspring  has  more 
of  the  mother's,  or  dam's  fubflance :  fecondly. 
it  becomes  a  ftronger  birth  :  thirdly,  it  better 
endures  the  power  of  the  air  :  laflly,  it  de.. 
notes,   that  nature  intended  fuch  a  birth  for 

tiic 


j8a      HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

the  center  of  a  large  circumference  of  many 
years.  The  fhort  life  of  oxen  and  fheep, 
calves  and  lambs,  lying  fix  months  in  their 
dam's  belly,  before  they  are  calved  andyeaned, 
proceeds  from  other  caufes. 

Grazing  cattle  are  fliort-lived,  but  beafls 
feeding  on  their  flefh  live  longer,  and  birds 
"which  eat  feeds  and  fruits.  For  half  the 
long-lived  hart's  food  grows,  as  they  fay, 
above  his  head  ;  and  the  goofe  feeding  not 
only  on  grafs  finds  fome  food  in  the  water. 

Another  caufe  of  long  life  is  warm  clo- 
thing, and  keeping  out  immoderate  heat  and 
cold,  whereby  the  body  is  ,much  weakened 
and  decayed,  as  birds  clothed  with  warm 
feathers  are  therefore  longer  lived ;  but  flieep 
having  thick  fleeces  are  not  long-lived,  being 
,fubje6l  to  many  difeafes,  and  feeding  only 
on  grafs. 

The  head  is  the  principal  feat  of  all  the 
fpirlts,  being  great  wafters  and  confumers  of 
rlie  body,  from  their  great  abundance,  or 
Iharp  inflammation. 

Therefore  birds  having  little  heads  in 
refpedl  of  their  bodies  live  longer,  and  men 
iiaving  very  great  heads  to  a  fhorter  period. 

The 


UISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        383 

The  beft  kind  of  motion  for  prolonging  of 
life,  is  to  be  born  and  carried,  as  the  fvvaii 
and  other  fwimming  water- fowl  are,  and  all 
birds  flying  more  painfully  with  their  wings, 
and  fifh  whofe  age  and  long  life  is  unknown. 

Slow  coming  to  perfection,  both  for 
growth  and  ripenefs,  fignifies  long  life  in  all 
creatures;  for  teeth,  private  hairs,  and  a 
beard,  are  degrees  of  maturity  or  ripenefs 
preceding  manhood. 

Mild  meek  creatures,  as  fheep  and  doves, 
are  not  long-lived;  the  gall  being  like  a 
whet-flone  whereon  naure's  faculties  arc 
fliarpened,  and  fitted  to  perform  their  of- 
fices. 

Creatures  having  white  flefh  live  not 
fo  long  as  thofe  whofe  blacker  flefli  fhews 
that  their  body's  moifture  is  firmer  and  more 
compadl:. 

Asa  great  fire  is  lafting,  and  not  foon  ex- 
tlnguifhed,  and  little  water  foon  evaporates  ; 
fo  quantity  and  bignefs  preferve  corruptible 
bodies;  a  twig  withering  fooner  than  the 
body  of  a  tree,  and  all  great  beafts  living 
longer  than  the  lefler. 


Or 


5^4      HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 


O?    NOURISHMENT- 


TVrOURISHMENT  ihould  be  of  an  inferior 
nature,  and  more  fimple  in  fubftance 
than  the  body  nourifhed.  Plants  are  nou- 
rlfhed  by  the  earth  and  water;  living  crea* 
tures  by  plants,  and  men  by  living  creatures 
feeding  partly  on  flefh,  as  man  does  on 
plants ;  but  neither  can  fubfifl  by  plants  or 
fallads  only;  but  fruits  and  parched  corn 
will  fuftain  life. 

ISTouRisHMENT  too,  like  the  nourished 
fubflance,  is  not  good.  For  grazing  cattle 
touch  not  any  flefh,  and  beads  feeding  on 
flefh  prey,  not  upon  their  own  kind.  j4n* 
thropophagi,  or  Ca?inibah^  feed  not  on  mens 
flefh  ordinarily,  but  by  eating  their  enemies 
flefh  as  a  great  dainty,  do  at  once  fatisfy  their 
hunger  and  revenge.  Alfo  feed  corn  in  the 
fame  field  where  it  grew  fhould  not  be  fown, 
nor  a  graft  be  fet  into  the  flock  whence  it 
was  taken. 

Nourishment  well  prepared,  and  fome- 
what  like  the  nourifhed  fubflance,    makes 

plants 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         985 

plants  fruitful,  and  living  creatures  fat.  For 
the  nourifhment  of  the  fliock  is  better  and 
more  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  the  graft, 
than  the  earth's  nourifhment  to  a  young  tree 
or  plant :  and  the  feed  of  an  onion  or  plant 
fowii  or  fet  in  the  earth,  produces  not  fuch 
a  great  onion,  or  fair  plant,  as  when  put 
Into  an  onion,  or  into  a  plant's  root,  and  fo 
fet  in  the  ground. 

The  boughs  of  elm^  oak,  afh,  and 
fuch  forefl-trees,  grafted  on  ftocks,  have 
broader  leaves  than  thofe  that  are  planted. 
Alfo  men  feed  not  fo  well  on  raw  fieili  as  on 
roafted. 

Living  creatures  receive  nourlfliment  at 
their  mouth,  plants  at  the  root,  young  crea- 
tures in  the  womb  at  the  navel.  Birds  are 
nouriflied  awhile  by  the  white  of  the  egg^ 
part  thereof  being  found  in  their  throats 
after  hatching. 

Observe,  that  though  all  nourifhment 
proceeds  and  rlfes  from  the  centre  to  the  cir- 
cumference, yet  trees  receive  not  from  their 
.inward  parts  and  pith  fo  much  nourifhment 
as  from  their  bark,  w^hich  being  ftripped  oif", 
they  prefently  wither  and  die.     Alfo  of  liv- 

VoL.  II.  C  c  ing 


^S6        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AI^D  DEATIJ* 

ing  creatures,  the  flefli  beneath  and  above 
the  veins  is  nourifhed  by  the  blood. 

By  the  inward  funftion  of  extruding,  and 
the  outward  operation  of  attra6ling  nourifh- 
ment,  the  nourifhing  faculty  works. 

Vegetables  or  plants  limply  digeft  their 
nourilhment,  without  voiding  fuperfluous 
excrements,  gums  of  trees  being  rather  fu- 
perfluities  of  nourifhment  than  excrements, 
and  knobs  and  knots,  fores ;  but  living  crea- 
tures difcerning  w4iat  nourifhment  is  like 
their  fubftance,  digeft  the  beft,  and  reject 
the  reft  in  excrement. 

The  greateft  and  faireft  fruits  hanging 
on  the  tree,  receive  all  their  nourifhment 
through  their  ftalks. 

The  feed  of  animals  in  the  moment  of  the 
emifTion  is  only  produftive,  but  feeds  of 
plants  after  long  keeping  will  grow ;  but 
young  grafts  and  fhoots  muft  be  planted 
while  they  are  frefh  and  green,  elfethey  will 
not  grow,  and  their  roots  being  not  covered 
with  earth  will  die. 

Living  creatures  have  different  kinds  of 
nourifhment  agreeable  to  their  age,  for  in 
their  mother's  or  dam's  belly  moillure  is  their 

food ; 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.       387 

food;  afterbirth,  milk;  then  meat  and 
drink;  when  old,  they  love  folid,  favory 
food. 

But  whether  nourishment  may  not  only 
by  the  mouth,  but  alfo  outwardly  be  receiv- 
ed, is  chiefly  to  be  confidered.  For  if  baths 
of  milk  in  hot  fevers  and  confumptions  were 
ufed,  and  fome  phyficians  hold  that  nutri- 
tive glifters  might  be  purpofely  made,  then 
fuch  nourishment  received  not  by  the  flo- 
mach,  but  outwardly,  may  fupply  digeflioa 
in  the  weaknefs  of  age. 


Of  THE    LONGEVITY   OF    MAN. 

gEFORE  the  flood,  as  the  facred  fcrip- 
tures  declare,  men  Hved  an  hundred 
years :  yet  of  all  the  fathers  none  attained 
to  a  complete  thoufand  years ;  neither  did 
the  generation  of  the  holy  line  of  grace  live 
only  thus  long  ;  for  by  the  patriarchs  eleven 
generations  from  Adam  to  the  Flood,  and 
Cains  eight,  his  generation  feems  longer 
C  c  2  lived. 


388       HrsTORY  OF  LI]P'E  AND  DEATH. 

lived.  But  man's  life  immediately  after  the 
flood  was  reduced  to  a  moiety,  though  Noah 
born  before  the  flood  lived  to  his  anceflors 
age,  and  Shem  attained  to  fix  hundred  years^ 
But  three  generations  after  the  flood  man's 
life  was  contracted  and  fhortened  to  an 
hundred  years,  being  the  fourth  part  of  their 
former  age. 

Abraham  lived  an  hundred  and  feventy- 
five  years,  in  great  profperity  and  happinefs. 
Ifaac  attained  to  an  hundred  and  eighty 
years  ;  a  chafte  and  quiet  man.  Jacobs 
having  m^any  troubles,  and  many  children, 
lived  an  hundred  and  forty- feven  years:  he 
was  a  patient,  mild,  wife  man.  IJhmael  was 
a  martialifl:,  and  an  hundred  and  thirty- fe« 
yen  years  was  his  age. 

But  Sarah  (no  other  woman's  age  being 
recorded  in  the  holy  fcript\n-e)  died  an  hun- 
dred and  feventy  years  old ;  being  a  comely 
courageous  woman,  an  excellent  mother  and^ 
wife,  and  famous  for  difcreet  carriage,  and 
obedience  to  her  hufl^and.  Alfo  Jofcph^  a 
wife  and  politic  man,  though  in  his  younger 
years  much  affli6led,  lived  afterwards  in 
great  felicity  and  happinefs,  and  attained  to 
an  hundred  and  ten  years  of  age.     But  his 

elder 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         389 

eider  brother  L^j/,  impatient  ofdifgrace,  and 
leaking  revenge,  lived  an  hundred  and  thir- 
ty-leven  years.  The  fon  of  Levi,  and  his 
nephew,  the  father  oi  Aaron  d^ndMofes,  lived 
as  long. 

Moses  lived  an  hundred  years,  being 
itout-hearted,  but  of  a  mild  carriage,  and 
ilow  fpeech :  yet  Mofes  iiiid  in  the  pfalm, 
that  threefcore  and  ten  years  was  the  ordi^ 
nary  age  of  man,  and  of  the  ftrongeft  but 
fourfcore  years,  being  ftill  the  term  of  man's 
life. 

But  Aaron^  three  years  older  than  Mofes^ 
died  the  fame  year  as  his  brother :  a  man  of 
ready  fpeech,  and  gentle  carriage,  but  fome- 
what  inconflant:.  Phlneas,  Aaron  s  nephew, 
by  divine  grace  and  favour,  lived  three  hun- 
dred years :  for  all  the  Ifraelites  going  out  to 
war  againft  the  tribe  of  Benjamin ;  Phineas, 
being  a  very  zealous  man,  was  then,  as  the 
hiftory  relates,  a  chief  captain  and  coun^- 
iellor. 

Joshua,  an  excellent  and  fortunate  cap- 
tain, lived  to  an  hundred  and  ten  years. 
Caleb  lived  in  his  time,  and  to  his  age: 
but  Ehud  the  Judge  lived  only  an  hundred 
years..  The  holy  land,  after  his  conquell  of 
C  c  3  the 


^93        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

the  Moabites,  being  eighty  years  under  his 
government :  he  was  a  vahant  ftout  man, 
and  devoted  his  anions  to  the  good  of  the 
common -wealth. 

Job,  reftored  to  his  former  happinefs, 
lived  one  hundred  and  forty  years,  having 
had,  before  his  troubles,  fons  that  were 
grown  men.  He  was  a  politic,  eloquent, 
and  good  man,  and  the  example  of  patience. 

Eli  the  prieft  lived  ninety  eight  years: 
was  a  fat  man,  and  of  a  pleafant,  loving  dif- 
pofition.  But  Eli/lja  the  prophet,  being  at 
the  time  of  the  affumption  of  El/as,  with  re- 
gard to  his  age,  mocked  by  children,  and 
called  old  bald  pate,  lived  fixty  years  after- 
wards, and  was  above  an  hundred  years 
old  when  he  died.  He  was  a  fevere  man, 
living aufterely,  andcontemningriches.  Ifaias 
the  prophet  was  an  hundred  years  old,  and 
fpent  feventy  of  thofe  years  in  prophefying; 
but  when  he  began  toprophefy,  and  at  what 
age  he  died,  is  unknown.  He  was  a  very 
eloquent  and  evangelical  prophet,  infpired 
with  the  promifes  of  the  coming  of  Chrift, 
fulfilled  in  the  New  Teftament. 

Tobias  the  elder  lived  one  hundred  and 
flfty-e:ght  years,  and  the  younger  Tobias  an 

hun- 


HISTORY  OF  LITE  AND  DEATH.        39I 

hundred  and  twenty-fcven  years,  being  mer- 
ciful and  charitable  men.  Many  Jews  that 
returned  from  the  captivity  of  Babylon  lived 
long,  and  could  remember  the  building  of 
both  the  temples,  the  latter  being  built  fe- 
venty  years  after  the  other.  Many  ages 
after,  when  our  Saviour  was  born,  Smeon 
was  an  old  religious,  faithful  man  :  and 
Anna  the  prophetefs  lived  to  an  hundred 
years,  fhe  having  been  married  feven  years, 
a  widow  eighty  years,  and  afterwards  a  pro- 
phetefs of  our  Saviour's  incarnation  :  Ihe  was 
a  holy  woman,  that  fpent  her  life  in  prayer 
and  fafting. 

The  long  lives  of  men  mentioned  in  hea- 
then authors  are  fabulous,  and  deceitful  cal- 
culations of  ages.  Thofe  Egyptian  kings 
that  reigned  longeft  lived  not  above  fifty,  or 
fifty-five  years;  a  common  modern  age.  But 
it  is  fiibuloufly  fuppofed,  that  the  kings  of 
Arcadia  lived  to  a  great  age,  becaufe  their 
country  was  mountainous;  and  both  they 
and  their  people  being  for  the  mofl  part 
fliepherds,  led  a  temperate  life ;  but  as  Fan 
was  their  God,  fo  all  thefe  relations  are  but 
yain  fables. 

C  c  4  NVMA, 


392        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

NuMA,  king  of  the  Roma?2s,  lived  to  eighty 
years  of  age,  being  a  peaceable,  fludipus^ 
and  religious  man.  Marcus  Valerius  Corvinus 
was  conful  forty  fix  years  after  his  firft  con- 
fulfhip,  andjived  an  hundred  years,  being 
both  in  war  and  private  attairs  very  power- 
ful, of  a  popular  difpofition,  and  always  for- 
tunate. 

Solon,  the  Athenian  law-maker,  and  one  of 
the  wife  fages,  lived  above  fourfcore  years  ; 
a  valiant  and  popular  man,  a  lover  of  his 
country,  learned,  and  fomewhat  voluptuous, 
jLpimenides  of  Crete  lived  one  hundred  and 
.  fifty-feven  years,  and  fifty  feven  of  thofe 
years  in  a  cave.  Half  an  age  afterwards, 
'Kenophon  Colophonius^  having  at  twenty  years 
of  age  left  his  country;  after  feventy-feven 
years  travel  returned  agam,  and  lived  in  all 
one  hundred  and  two  years,  or  longer.  This 
man,  being  a  traveller,  had  alfo  a  wandering 
mind:  and  for  holding  many  opinions  wa^ 
called  Xenoman,  or  the  wanderer,  inftead  of 
Xenophon'.  yet  certainly  his  conceit  and  fancy 
\vas  large  and  infinite. 

Anacreon,  the  wanton,  voluptuous  poet, 
Reached  to  fourfcore  years  of  age,  and  up- 
"^vards ;  and  Pindar  of  1'hehes^  a  poet  of  aa 

high 


HISTORY   OF   LIFE   AND  DEATH.         302 

high  fancy,  witty  hi  a  new  way  of  writhig, 
and  a  reUgious  adorer  of  the  Gods,  hved  four- 
fcore  years.  Sophocles  the  Aihetuan  attained 
to  the  fanae  age ;  an  eloquent  tragical  poet, 
and  a  great  writer,  but  carelefs  of  his  family. 

ArtaxerxeSj  king  oiPerf.a,  lived  ninety 
four  years,  being  a  man  of  a  dull  wit,  not 
laborious  or  painful,  but  affecling  eafe  more 
than  glory. 

Agesilaus  w^as  a  moderate  king,  and  a 
philofopher;  a  great  foldier,  and  politician, 
but  ambitious  of  honour :  he  lived  eighty- 
four  years. 

GoRGiAs  Leontinus  lived  an  hundred 
and  eighty  years.  This  man  was  a  rheto- 
rician, a  pubhcfchool-mafter,  and  a  travel- 
ler ;  and  before  his  death  he  faid,  that  Prc- 
iagoras  tht  Jbderite,  being  a  rhetorician,  a 
politician,  and  as  great  a  traveller  as  Gcr- 
gias,  Uved  ninety  years.  Socrates  the  J//je- 
nian,  multiplying  his  life,  reached  to  ninety- 
nine  years  of  age  :  he  was  a  modeft  rhetoiV 
cian,  that  would  never  plead  in  open  court, 
l^ut  kept  a  private  fchool. 

Democritus  oi  Abdera  drew  out  his  time 
of  life  to  an  hundred  years;  w^as  a  oreat 
fiatural  philofopher,  and  a  learned  phyfician, 

and 


394        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

and  praditioner  in  experiments ;  fo  that  Arif- 
iotle  obje6led  againft  him,  becaufe  his  obfer- 
vations  were  grounded  more  on  comparifoii 
than  reafon,  being  not  proved  by  logic,  but 
hj  fimilitude,  the  weakefl  kind  of  argument. 
Diogenes  Synopeus^  allowing  others  liberty, 
but  ftricl  in  private  government,  delighting 
in  poor  diet  and  patience,  lived  ninety  years. 
Zeno  Citteus^  lacking  but  two  of  an  hundred 
years,  was  high-minded,  a  contemner  of 
opinions,  and  had  an  excellent  wit,  not  of- 
fenfivc,  but  rather  alluring  than  compelling 
affedion.  Seneca  afterwards  had  the  like  wit. 
Plaio  of  Athens  lived  eighty  one  years  :  a 
man  affedling  quietnefs,  and  high  contem- 
plation ;  of  a  civil,  handfome  behaviour,  not 
light,  but  pleafmg  and  majeflic.  ?"to- 
fhvajius  EtefMs^  uhng  a  fweet  kind  of  elo- 
quence, mingled  with  plentiful  variety,  ga- 
thering only  the  fweet  rofes  of  philofophy, 
not  the  bitter  worm- wood,  attained  to  four- 
jcore  and  five  years.  Carneades  of  Cjrene, 
many  years  after,  lived  until  he  was  four^ 
fcore  and  five  years  old;  a  fluent,  eloquent 
man,  delighting  in  variety  of  knowledge, 
"Vvhich  made  his  converfation  pleafing  and 
jicceptable.     But  in  Cicero's  time,   Orbilius-^ 

no 


HISTORY  OF   LIFE   AND  DEATH.        ^^J 

no  philofopher  or  rhetorician,  but  a  gram-^ 
marlaii,  lived  almoft  an  hundred  years  ;  be- 
ing firft  a  foldier,  then  a  fchool-mafler  ;  of  a 
proud  difpolition,  and  a  whipping,  railing 
writer,  even  againft  his  own  fcholars. 

Q^Fabius  Maximus,  having  been  fixty 
three  years  augur,  and  more  refpecfled  for 
his  nobility  than  age,  was  above  fourfcore 
years  old  when  he  died.  He  was  a  wife  man, 
that  ripened  adlions  by  delaying  their  execu- 
tion, being  all  his  life-time  moderate,  coui> 
teous,  and  grave.  Majinljfa,  king  of  Numi- 
dia^  lived  above  ninety  years,  and  had  a 
fon  when  he  was  upwards  of  eighty- five 
years  old.  This  man  was  valiant,  and  cour 
fidentin  fortune,  whofe  changes  his  younger 
years  having  experienced,  he  afterwards 
Jived  in  conftant  happinefs.  Marcus  F orchis 
Cato  lived  above  ninety  years :  a  man  of  an 
iron  body  and  mind,  of  a  fharp  fpeech,  and 
contentious;  addid:ed  alfo  tohufbandry;  and 
a  phyfician  to  himfelf  and  family. 

Terentia,  C/aro's  wife,  livinp- an  hun- 
dred  and  three  years,  fuiFered  many  troubles 
and  afflidions  by  her  hufband's  banilhment, 
death,  and  alfo  by  the  gout.  L//c/^,  playing 
fhe  part  of  a  young  maid,  afterwards  of  an 

old 


39^         HISTORY  OF   LfFE  AND  DEATH. 

old  wife  upon  the  ftage,  lived  an  hundred 
years.  KXio  Galena  Copiola^  being  at  firfl  an 
a6^rels,  was  ninety  nine  years  afterwards,  at 
the  dedication  of  Pompey^s  theatre,  brought 
forth  as  a  miracle  of  age,  and  afterwards 
was  a  fpe6lacle  in  plays  made  hi  honour  of 
Augujliis  Co'far. 

LiviA  Julia  Augusta,  wife  to Augujlus 
Ca'fa?',  and  mother  to  I'iberius,  lived  but  nine^ 
ty  years,  but  was  a  more  famous  a£lrefs  than 
the  former:  for  Lh/a,  being  a  courteous, 
flately,  and  pragmatical  matron,  complying 
with  her  hufband  by  diffembling  obedience, 
and  with  her  Ion  by  majeftic  courage,  was 
certainly  an  excellent  a61refs  in  the  comedy 
of  Augujlus' s  life  ;  who  himfelf  fpoke  a  com- 
manding epilogue,  charging  his  friends  to  ap- 
plaud it  after  his  death.  lunia,  wife  to  C,  CaJfiuSy 
and  fifler  to  M.  Brutus,  being  ninety  years 
old,  and  living  fixty-four  of  them  before  the 
battle  of  Philippi,  was  rich ;  and  though 
unfortunate  in  her  hufband  and  kindred,  yet 
a  noble  widow. 

In  Vefpajian''s  reign,  anno  76,  in  the  part  of 

Jtaly  lying   between   the   Appenine  and  the 

river  Po,  men  of  an  hundred  years  old,  and 

upwards,    were  aireiTed,    and  put  into  the 

5  fubfidyv 


History  of  life  and  death. 


;97 


fuDfidy-book :  namely,  one  hundred  and 
twenty- four  of  lOO  years  of  age;  fifty-four, 
120;  fifty-feven,  125;  four,  130;  four,  135; 
and  three  that  were  149  years  old.  There 
were  alfo  at  Parma,  three  men  120,  and  two 
130  years  old.  At  Bruxelles  there  was  an 
old  man  125,  znother  ^t  Placeraia  12  t,  and 
an  old  v/oman  aged  132  years  was  living  at: 
Flueniici ;  and  in  the  ancient  town  Velleia- 
chm,  feated  on  the  hills  near  Placent'm,  were 
fix  men  aged  no,  and  four  12a.  Laftly,  at 
Rlm'moj  one  M  Aponlus  was  an  hundred  and 
fifty  years  okt 

Of  the  Roman,  Grecian,  and  German  em- 
perors, being  almoll  two  hundred,  fome 
only  attained  to  fourfcore  years  of  age.  The' 
tm^QmrsAuguJius  and  T'iberms  living  feventy- 
eight,  and  feventy-fix  years,  might  have 
reached  fourfcore  years,  had  they  not  beeit 
poifoned  by  Lh'ia  and  Caius. 

Augustus  lived  feventy-fix  years  ;  was 
a  moderate  prince,  fomewhat  hafty  in  action, 
but  o-f  a  fair  and  pleafing  carriage ;  temperate 
in  diet,  lafcivious,  and  very  fortunate  ;  and 
when  about  thirty  years  old,  foiling  into  a 
dangerous  licknels,  was  reflored  to  health 
by  Antonlus  Mtifa,  and  cured  by  cold  medi- 
cines. 


59^         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATI-T^ 

clnes,  inflead  of  hot  applications  wfed  hf 
other  phyficians,  as  agreeable  to  his  difeafe. 
Tiberius  was,  by  two  yearsj  longer  lived  than 
Augujlus.  His  words,  as  Augujlu^  faid,  ftuck 
in  his  throat :  he  was  a  prince  of  flow  fpeech, 
but  ftern  and  bloody ;  a  drunkard,  and  lux- 
urious in  diet,  yet  very  careful  of  his  health, 
and  ufed  to  {^ly,  that  every  one  after  thirty 
years  of  age  was  a  fool  or  a  phyfician.  Gor- 
duin  the  elder  lived  fixty  years ;  then  being 
made  emperor,  he  fell  into  a  violent  ficknefs, 
and  died:  he  was  a  brave,  famous  man,  learn- 
ed, and  a  poet ;  conftant  in  the  whole  courfe 
of  his  life,  and  a  little  before  his  death,  for- 
tunate. 

The  emperor  Valerian  lived  feventy-fix 
years  before  he  was  taken  priioner  by  Sapor^ 
king  of  tlie  Ferjiam  ;  feven  years  afterwards 
he  fuddenly  fell  fick,  and  died.  He  was  of 
an  ordinary  temper,  and  not  very  valiant  ; 
and  though  weak  in  defert,  was  by  general 
opinion  conceived  worthy  to  be  made  empe- 
ror. Anajfajiusy  fir  named  DIcorus,  was  four- 
fcore  years  old;  of  a  quiet,  mild,  fuperfli- 
tious,  timorous  temper.  Amicius  luji'mianm 
lived  eighty- four  years  ;  affecting  glory ;  fa- 
mous by  his  captains  fuccefs,  not  his  own 

valour  : 


HISTORY  OF   LIFE  AND  DEATH.         39^ 

valour;  uxorious,  and  governed  bv  others.- 
Helena  of  Brltam,  the  mother  of  Conjlanting 
the  Great,  lived  fourfcore  years;  was  no 
ftatefwoman,  but  wholly  devoted  to  religion, 
yet  of  an  high  fpirit,  and  always  happy- 
Theodora  the  emprefs,  fifler  to  Zoes,  the  wife 
of  Monomachus^  who  reigned  after  her  de- 
ceafe,  lived  above  fourfcore  years ;  a  bufy, 
ftately,  fortunate,  and  credulous  woman. 

After  fhefe  examples  of  long-lived  hea- 
then men,  the  ages  of  principal  ecclefiaftica 
fhall    be  related.      St.  'John^    our   Saviour* 3 
beloved  apoftle   and  difciple,    lived  ninetv-* 
three  years,  whofe  divine  infpirations  and 
burning  charity  were  fhadowed  forth  by  the 
emblem  of  an  eagle  drawn  near  his  piclure. 
Luke   the  '  Evangelifl  was    eighty-four 
years  of  age;  an  eloquent  man,  and  a  travel- 
ler; St.  PauFs  conflant   companion,   and   a 
phyficlan.     Simeon  Cleopbas,    called  ChrilVs 
brother,  was  bifhop  of  Jerufalem,   and   lived 
an  hundred  and  twenty  years  before  he  was 
miartyrM  :  a  courageous,  conftant,  charitable 
man.     Polycarp,   the  apoflle's  difciple,   and 
bifhop   of  Smyrna,   attained  to   an  hundred 
years,  and  was  then  martyr'd :  a  high-minded 
man,  of  heroic  patience,  and  laborious-  Dl- 

cnyfius 


40O       HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATPfo 

bmfitis  AreofagUa^  in  the  apoflle  PauW  tim^j 
living  ninety  years,  was  called,  "  the  bird  of 
^'  heaven  :"  an  excellent  divine,  and  famous 
for  life  and  dodrine.  Aquilla  and  Prifcilla; 
the  aportle  Paul's  hofls,  and  afterwards  fel- 
low-helpers, lived  to  an  hundred  years ;  be- 
ing in  pope  'Kljlus's  time  an  ancient  married 
couple,- wholly  given  to  good  works:  the 
diurches  firft  founders  were  fortunate  in  mar- 
riage. St.  Paul  the  Hermit  lived  in  a  cave 
an  hundred  and  thirty  years,  with  intoler- 
able poor,  hard  diet:  he  was  a  learned  man^ 
and  fpent  his  life  in  meditation.  St.  An- 
thony^ the  firfh  founder  or  reftorer  of  the  or- 
der of  monks,  attained  to  an  hundred  and 
five  years ;  a  devout,  contemplative  man,  of 
an  auftere  and  fevere  life,  governed  his  monks 
in  fuch  a  glorious  folitude,  that  he  was  vi- 
fited  by  chriflians  and  philofophers,  and 
adored  as  a  living  image  of  fandlity  and  holi- 
hefs.  Aihanafius,  a  man  of  invincible  con- 
flancy,  commanding  fame,  and  yielding  not 
to  fortune,  bold  with  great  perfonages,  po- 
pular, and  a  flout  champion  in  controverfies, 
died  above  eighty  years  old.  St.  'Jerome  lived 
above  ninety  years :  he  was  an  eloquent 
writer,  learned  in  languages  andfciences;  a 

tra- 


lilSTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        4OI 

traveller;  and  towards  his  old  age  of  an  fie  re 
life,  his  high  mind  fhone  in  a  private  life 
like  aftarin  obfcurity. 

But  of  two  hundred  and  forty-one  popes, 
five  only  attained  to  fourfcore  years.  The 
age  of  many  of  the  firfl:  popes  being  fhortened 
by  martyrdom.  Pope  John  the  23d.  lived 
ninety  years:  a  man  of  an  unquiet  difpofi- 
tion,  and  an  innovator;  bringing  in  many 
alterations  and  changes,  feme  for  the  better, 
but  a  great  hoarder  of  w^ealth  and  treafure, 
Gregory  the  twelfth,  by  a  factious  ele(£lion, 
created  pope,  died  at  ninety  years;  hia 
fhort  papacy  afforded  nothing  worthy  of  ob- 
fervation.  Paul  the  third  lived  eighty  one 
years  ;  of  a  quiet  difpofition,  and  profound 
judgment;  a  learned  aflrologer,  careful  of 
his  health,  and,  like  the  old  priefl  £//,  a 
father  of  his  family. 

Paul  the  fourth,  who  lived  eighty  tliree 
yearsjwasof  a  fevere  difpofition,  high-mind- 
ed, and  imperious ;  of  a  working  fancv,  and  an 
eloquent  ready  fpeech.  Gregory  the  thir- 
teenth lived  alfo  fourfcore  and  three  years ; 
was  a  good  man,  politic,  temperate,  and  cha- 
ritable. 

Vol.  II.  D  d  ru^ 


402"       HrSTOllY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

The  following  examples  are  promifcuoufly 
fet  down  together — Arganthonlus^    king  of 
Cadh   in    Sfam^    lived   one     hundred    and 
thirty  or  forty  years,   reigning  eighty:  his 
manners,  kind  of  life,  and  the  time  wherein 
he  lived,  are  unknown,     Cynlras,  king  of 
Cyprus,    accounted  then  a  happy,    pleafant 
ifland,  lived  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  fixty 
years,     Tw^o  kings  of  the  Latins  eight  hun- 
dred and  fix  hundred  years.     Some  kings  of 
Arcadia  three  hundred  ;  but  the  inhabitants 
long  life  in  this  healthful  country  is  but  an 
invented  fable.     It  is  reported,  that  in  Illyri* 
cum  one  Dardanus  lived  five  hundred  years 
without  any  infirmity  of  age.     The  Epiatis^ 
a  people  ofjEtoIia,  were  generally  all  long- 
lived  ;  two  hundred  years  being  a  common 
age ;  and  among  the  refl  the  giant  Litorius 
was  three  hundred  years  old.     On  the  top 
of  th^  mountain    I'molus^    anciently  called 
^empfusy  many  men  attained  to  an  hundred 
and  fifty  years.     The  {t€t  of  tlie  EJfeans,  in 
Judea,  lived  above  an  hundred  years,  bn  a 
Very  poor  Pythagorean  diet.     Apollomus  T'ya^ 
neusy  when  above  an  hundred  years  old,  had 
afrefh,  fair  complexion,  and  was  accounted 
by  tbe'  heathens  a  verv  divine  man,  but  by 

tl-i<?. 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE?  AND  DEATH.        403 

the  chriftians  efleemed  a  magician  ;  a  Pytha- 
gorean in  diet,  a  great  traveller,  famous,  and 
renowned ;  but  in  his  age  he  was  difgraced, 
and  fufFered  many  contumelies  and  reproaches- 
which  redounded  afterwards  to  his  honour. 
Apphis  C^cus^    when    very  old,  governed  a 
great  family,  and  the  common-wealth  ;  and 
in  his  extreme  old  age,  being  brought  on  % 
bed  into  the  Senate-houfe,  difluaded  them 
from  making  peace  ^Nith.  Pyrrhus:  in  the  be- 
ginning of  his  oration  fhewing  a  memorable 
and  invincible  courage  and  flrength  of  mind, 
faying,    "  My  blindnefs,  reverend  fathers, 
"  I  have  very  patiently  endured ;  but  now 
*'  hearing  your  difhonourable  counfels  and 
'*  purpofe  to  conclude  a  peace  with  Pyrrhus^ 
**  I  could  wifh  myfelf  deaf.'*     M.  Perpenna 
lived  ninety  eight  years,  furviving  all  the 
fenators  of  his  confulfhip,  and  all  elecled  in 
his  cenforfhip,  except  feven.     HierOy  king  q£ 
Skil}',  who  reigned  at  the  time  of  the  fecond 
Pimic  war,  lived  almoft  an  hundred  years ; 
was  a  moderate  prince,  both  in  government 
and  manners;   religious,   faithful  in  friend- 
fhlp,  bountiful,  and  continually  fortunate. 
Statilia,  of  a  noble  family,  lived  ninety-nine 
years,  in  the  reign  of  Claudius,    Claudia,  the 
D  d  2  daughter 


404       HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH^ 

daughter  of  OtUius,  one  hundred  and  fifteen 
years.  Xenoph'dus,  an  ancient philofopher  of 
the  Pythagorean  fe6l,  one  hundred  and  fix 
years ;  was  healthful  and  lufty  in  his  old  age, 
and  very  popular  for  his  learning. 

Islanders  were  formerly  accounted  very 
long-lived,  now  equal  to  others  in  age.  Hippo- 
crates of  Cous^  a  famous  phyfician,  who  lived 
one  hundred  and  four  years,  approving  his  art 
by  lengthening  his  life,  was  a  wife  and  learned 
man,  of  great  experience  and  obfervation, 
and  without  affedling  method,  found  out  the 
nerves  and  finews  of  fcience. 

Demonax,  a  philofopher  by  profeffion 
and  manners,  w^ho  lived  an  hundred  years 
in  Adrian'^  reign,  was  difliinguiflied  for  an 
exalted  mind,  and  an  abfolute  command  of 
himfelf ;  and  without  affedation  a  contemner 
of  the  world,  yet  civil  and  courteous :  when 
he  died,  being  alked  touching  his  burial,  he 
anfwered,  "  Take  no  care  for  my  burial, 
''  for  my  offenfive  fmell  will  bury  me."  He 
that  alked  him,  faid  again,  "  Would  you 
*'  have  your  body  left  for  dogs  and  ravens  to 
*'  feed  upon  ?"  D^/72o;z^a:  anfwered,  *'  What 
*'  great  hurt  is  it,  if  having  fought  while  I 

«  hved 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        405 

*'  lived  to  do  good  to  men,  my  body  do  fome 
*'  good  to  beafts  when  I  am  dead  ?" 

The  Indians  called  Pandora ^  are  very  long 
lived,  reaching  two  hundred  years. .  The 
iSVr^j,  another  fort  of  Indians,  with  plantain 
drink,  live  to  an  hundred  years.  'Euphranor 
the  Grammarian,  when  above  an  hundred 
years  old,  kept  a  fchool.  Ovid^  the  poet's 
father,  lived  ninety  years;  who  differing 
from  his  fon  in  difpofition,  and  averfe  to  the. 
Mufes,  dilTuaded  him  from  ftudying  poetry^ 
AJinhis  Pollio,  favourite  to  Augujius^  and  fa- 
voured alfo  by  the  Gods,  with  a  life  of  an 
hundred  years,  was  luxurious,  eloquent, 
learned,  hafty,  proud,  cruel,  and  made  pri- 
vate benefits  the  only  centre  of  his  a6lions. 
Seneca^  managing  flate  matters,  banifhed  for 
adultery  in  Claudius's  reign,  was  near  an  hun- 
dred years  old  when  he  was  Nero's  fchool- 
mafter.  John  ofl^imes,  a  Frenchman,  and  a 
foldier  of  Charles  the  Great,  was  accounted 
in  thofe  latter  times  the  longeft  liver,  benig 
three  hundred  years  old, 

Gartius  Aretine,  grandfather  to  Are^ 

tine,  was  healthy  to  the  laft,  feeling  no  fick-. 

nefs  ;  but  when  ftrength  of  nature  decayed, , 

died  with  age.     Many  Venetians  lived  ex-. 

D  d  3  ceeding 


406        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

ceeding   long,   as  Captain  Francis  Donaitis^ 
Thomas  Contarenus^   Pro6lor  of  St.  Mark's^ 
Francis  MoUn,  Proclor  alfo  of  St.  Mark\,  and 
others.^  But  Cornarus  Fenetus,  having  a  fickly, 
crazy  body,  for  the  recovery  of  health,  took 
all  his  meat  and  drink,  by  weight,   keeping 
afterwards   according  to  that  proportion  a 
conftant  diet,  and  thereby  lived  about  an 
hundred   years  in  perfect  health.     JViUiam 
Pofiell,  a  Frenchman,  at  the  age  of  an  hun- 
dred and  twenty,  had  on  his  upper  Hp  black 
hair  ;  was  a  man  of  an  active  brain  and  light 
fancy,  a  great  traveller,  and  an  experienced 
mathematician,  rather  inclining  unto  herefy. 
In  England  there  is  in  every  populous  vil- 
lage a  man  or  woman  of  threefcore  years : 
and  at  a  wake  in  HerefordJJjire^  a  dance  was 
performed  by  eight  men,  whofs  ages  added 
together  amounted  to  eight  hundred  years; 
fome  being  as  much  above  an  hundred  years, 
as  others  were  under  that  age. 

Many  mad  folks  in  Bethlem  Hofpital,  in 
the  fuburbs  of  London,  live  very  long. 

The  ages  of  nymphs,  fawns,  and  {lityrs, 
formerly  fuperftitioujQy  adored,  are  but  dreams 
and  fables,  contrary  to  philofophy  and  reli- 
gion.    So  much  for  the  hiflory  of  the  long 

life 


t 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        A^l 

life  of  particular  perfons,  now  follow  general 
obfervations. 

In  fucceeding  ages  and  generations,  length 
of  life  is  not  fliortened,  fourfcore  years  hav- 
ing been,   from  the  time  of  Mofes,  the  con- 
ftant  age  of  man.     But  in  particular  coun- 
tries mens  lives  were   longer,    when  plain 
homely  diet,   and  bodily  labour  were  much 
ufed,  and  Shorter,  when  more  civilized  times 
delighted  in  idlenefs  and    wanton  luxury  : 
but   as  fucceflion  of  ages  ftiorten  not  the 
length  of  hfe,  they  mufl  be  dlftinguilhed  from 
the  corruptions  thereof.     The  age   alfo  of 
beafts,    as  oxen,  horfes,    fheep,  goats,  and 
and  fuch  like  creatures,  not  being  Ihortened 
in  this  age;  therefore  the  deluge,  or  general 
flood,  and  perhaps  particular  accidental  floods, 
long  droughts,  earthquakes,  and  the  like, 
Ihorten  life,  and  not  th©  fucceffion  of  ages 
and  generations,     Neither  do  the  bigneis  and 
ftature  of  bodies  now  decreafe  and  grow  kls, 
though  Firgil,  following  common  opinion, 
prophefied  of  a  leffer  ftature  of  men  in  fuc- 
ceeding  ages,  of  the  ploughing  the  Emathian 
and  Emonenfian  fields. 

Though  in  Sicily  and  other  places,  three 

thoufand  years  fince,  Giants  lived  in  caves, 

Pd4  }'e; 


408       HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

yet  the  general  ftature  of  men  fmce  that  time 
is  not  decreafed,  which  confutes  the  com- 
mon opinion  that  men  are  not  fo  long  lived, 
big,  nor  ilrong,  as  formerly. 
-  In  cold  Northern  countries,  men  com- 
monly live  longer  than  in  hotter,  their  Ikin 
being  more  compa(5t  and  clofe,  whereby  their 
moiflure  is  not  fo  eafily  diffufed,  fcattered 
abroad,  and  confumed  by  the  fharpnefs  of 
their  reparable  fpirits,  nor  exhaufled  and  de- 
voured by  the  intemperate  heat  of  their  air, 
But  under  the  Equinodlial  line,  the  fun  paf-^ 
{ing  twice  over  it,  makes  two  winters  and 
fummers,  and  equal  days  and  nights,  the 
inhabitants  live  very  long,  as  in  Peru  and 
Tciprobana, 

The  Mediterranean  IJlanders  are  commonly 
long-lived ;  for  the  Ruffians  live  not  fo  long 
as  the  Orcades,  nor  the  Africatis,  as  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  Canaries  and  Terceras,  though 
under  the  fame  parallel ;  and  the  Japonians, 
though  earneftly  defiring  and  affecting  long 
life,  are  not  fo  long  lived  as  the  Cbineje,  the 
feaair  yielding  a  cherifhing  warmth  in  cold 
countries,  and  a  refrelhing,  cooling  breeze  ia 
hot  countries. 

HiGIJ 


I 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         40^; 

High  grounds,  except  the  tops  of  moun- 
tains, produce  people  of  a  greater  age  than 
low,  flat  levels,  and  in  high  countries,  as 
in  Arcadia  and  Greece,  and  part  oi MtoUa,  the 
inhabitants  live  to  a  great  age,  as  the  inhabi- 
tants of  mountains  would  do,  if  their  pure 
clear  air  were  not  accidentally  corrupted  with 
vapours,  which  rifing  from  the  vallies,  fettle 
and  reft  on  the  hills :  therefore  on  fnowy 
mountains,  on  the  Alps,  the  Pyrennean,  and 
the  ^/^^;/;z^  mountains,  the  inhabitants  live 
not  fo  long,  as  thofe  dwelling  on  middling 
hills  or  vallies:  but  on  the  ridges  of  moun- 
tains towards  Ethiop,  and  the  Abyjfyncs,  co- 
vered with  fnow,  with  no  hovering  vapours, 
the  people  live  to  an  hundred  and  £fty  years 
of  age. 

The  air  of  marfhes  and  fens,  lying  flat  and 
low,  agrees  with  the  natives,  but  to  Grangers 
is  unhealthy,  and  Shortens  their  lives:  and 
marfhes,  or  other  fenny  places,  that  are 
overflowed  with  fait  tides,  are  more  un- 
wholefome  than  thofe  overflowed  with  frcih 
land- water. 

The  particular  countries  wherein  the  peo- 
ple live  to  a  great  age,  are  thefe  :  Arcadia, 
diolia^  India  on  this  fide  the  Ganges,  Brajtl, 

"Tapro^ 


410        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

laprohana,  Britain,  Ireland,  and  the  iflands  of 
Orcades  and  Hebrides,  but  ilot  Ethiopia,  as 
fome  of  the  ancients  fnppofed. 

The  air  being  perfedly  wholefome  is  a 
fecret  quality,  rather  found  out  by  experi- 
ence, than  reafon  :  for  if  a  piece  of  wood 
laid  fome  certain  days  in  the  open  air,  grows 
not  heavier  in  weight,  it  proves  that  the  air 
is  good;  alfo,  if  a  piece  of  flefh  laid  in  the 
fame  manner  remain  unputrified,  or  if  a  per- 
ipe^ive  glafs  prefents  the  objed  in  near  dif- 
tance,  the  air  is  thereby  proved  wholefome. 

A  wholefome  air  mufl  be  good,  pure,  and 
equal.  Hills  and  vallies,  with  a  kind  of 
changeable  variety,  make  a  pleafant  profpedl, 
but  are  not  fo  healthy  as  the  moderately  dry 
plain,  not  barren  or  fandy,  but  planted  with 
fhady  trees. 

It  is  bad  dwelling  in  a  changeable  air, 
though  change  of  air  in  travels,  by  ufe  and 
cuflom,  becomes  healthy,  making  travellers 
iong-llyet}.  Cottagers  dwelling  continually 
In  one  place  Ijye  to  a  great  age,  the  fpirits 
being  confumed  lefs  by  an  accuflomed  air, 
but  nouriihed  and  repaired  more  hy  change 

pf  air. 

The; 


HISTOKY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         41  I 

The  life  of  man  is  not  lengthened  or 
Shortened  by  fucceffion  of  ages,  but  the  im- 
mediate condition  of  the  parents,  both  the 
father  and  mother,  is  to  be  regarded.  As 
whether  the  father  was  an  old,  young,  or 
middle-aged;  healthy  and  found,  or  fickly 
and  difeafed ;  a  glutton,  or  a  drunkard ;  or 
whether  children  were  begotten  after  deep 
in  the  morning,  after  long  forbearance  of 
venery,  in  the  heat  of  love,  as  baflards,  or 
in  cold  blood,  as  in  continuance  of  marriap-e. 
The  fame  circumflances  are  alfo  on  m^  mo- 
ther's fide  to  be  confidered,  and  alfo  the  con- 
ditions of  the  mother  during  pregnancy:  as 
whether  fhe  were  healthy,  and  what  diet 
/he  kept.  Certain  rules  for  judging  of  chil- 
drens  life  by  the  manner  of  their  generation 
and  birth  are  hard  to  be  given,  matters  fiill- 
ing  out  contrary  to  expe^ation  ;  for  children 
begotten  with  a  lively  courage  prov(^  ftrong, 
but,  through  the  fharp  inflammation  of  the 
fpirits,  are  not  long-lived  :  alfo  children  re- 
ceiving a  greater  or  equal  quantity  of  the 
mother's  fluid,  and  begotten  in  lawful  wed- 
lock, not  in  fornication,  and  in  the  morning, 
without  exceflive  lewdncfs  in  the  parents, 
Jive  long:  for  it  is  obfcrvablc,  that  flout, 

flrong 


412        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

ftrong  parents,  efpeclalJy  mothers,  have  not 
ftrong  children.  Plato  ignorantly  imagined, 
that  becaufe  women  ufed  not  exercife  as 
men  did,  therefore  children  were  not  ftrong  ; 
whereas  unequal  flrength  is  moft  powerful 
in  the  a£l  of  generation  ;  a  ftrong  man  and 
a  weak  woman  havdng  ftrongeft  children  : 
fo  young  women  are  the  moft  prolific,  and 
young  nurfes  are  the  heft.  For  the  Spartan 
women,  not  marrying  until  two  or  five  and 
twenty  years  old,  called  therefore  mafculine 
women,  had  no  luftier,  longer-lived  chil- 
dren, than  the  Roman,  Athenian,  or  ^heban 
women,  who  accounted  themfelvcs  marriage- 
able at  twelve  or  fourteen  years  old  :  there- 
fore fpare  diet  made  the  Spartan  women  ex- 
cellent breeders,  not  late  marriage.  But  ex- 
perience ftiews,  that  fome  families  are  long- 
lived;  long  life  and  difeafes  being  hereditary 
to  all  of  the  fame  ftock  and  parentage.    - 

Black  or  red  hair,  and  a  complexion 
with  freckles,  are  figns  of  longer  life,  than 
white  hair  and  complexion :  and  a  frelh  red 
colour  in  young  folks  is  better  than  a  pale  ; 
a  hard,  not  a  fpongy  (kin,  but  clofe  grained, 
is  a  better  llgn  of  long  life  thaa  a  fmooth 

ikin  ; 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        413 

{kill :  and  great  wrinkles  in  the  forehead  are 
better  ligns  than  a  fmooth  forehead. 

Hair  hard  like  briftles  is  a  better  fign  of 
long  life  than  dainty  foft  locks ;  and  hard, 
thick,  curled  hair,  is  better  than  foft  and 
fliining. 

Baldness  coming  fooner  or  later  is  an 
indifferent  iign,  many  being  foon  bald,  yet 
long-lived ;  and  grey  hairs,  accounted  figns 
of  old  age,  coming  betimes  without  bald- 
nefs,  are  figns  of  long  life;  with  baldnefs, 
a  token  of  the  contrary. 

The  hairynefs  of  the  lower  parts,  as  the 
thighs  and  legs,  is  a  fign  of  long  life,  but 
not  of  the  breafl",  or  upper  parts. 

Men  of  a  tall  flature,  flrong,  and  a£live, 
are  long-lived;  but  alow  flature,  and  flow 
difpofition,  are  contrary  (igns. 

In  regard  of  proportion,  fhort  waiils  and 
long  legs  betoken  longer  life  than  long  waifts 
and  fhort  legs :  and  a  big  proportion  down- 
w^ards,  and  flender  upwards,  is  a  fign  of 
longer  life,  than  broad  Ihoulders,  and  a 
flender  make  downwards. 

Lean  folks,  of  a  quiet,  peaceable  difpo- 
fition ;  and  fat  folks,  of  a  choleric  nature, 
I  are 


4-14       HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

are  commonly  long-lived.     Fatnefs  in  youth 
is  a  fign  of  (hort  life,  but  not  in  age. 

Long  growth,  either  to  a  great  or  leffer 
ftature,  is  a  fign  of  long  life ;  but  fudden 
growth,  either  to  a  low  or  high  ftature,  is  a 
bad  fign. 

Firm  flefh,  full  of  mufcles  and  finews, 
and  high  fwelling  veins,  fignify  long  life  ; 
the  contrary  are  figns  of  Ihort  life. 

A  SMALL  head  in  proportion  to  the  body  ; 
a  middle-fized  neck,  not  long,  flender,  thick, 
or  fhort,  Shrinking  within  the  fhoulders; 
large  noflrils;  a  wide  mouth;  griflly  ears, 
not  flefhy;  and  ftrong,  clofe,  even  teeth, 
fignify  long  life,  and  efpecially  breeding  of 
new  teeth. 

A  BROAD  breafl:  bending  inwards,  crooked 
fhoulders,  a  fiat  belly,  a  broad  hand  with 
few  lines  in  the  palm,  a  fhort  round  foot, 
thighs  not  very  flefhy,  and  high  calves  of 
the  legs,  are  figns  of  long  life. 

Great  eyes  with  a  green  circle  bordering 
on  the  vvliite  of  the  eye ;  fenfes  not  too  (harp ; 
flow  pulfes  in  youth,  in  age  quicker,  holding 
the  breath  eafily ;  cofiivenefs  in  youth,  loofe- 
nefi  In  age,  fignify  long  life. 

Astro- 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        415 

Astrological  obfervatlons,  drawn  from 
nativity,  are  not  allowable.  Children  com- 
ing at  eight  months  are  commonly  fllll-born; 
but  children  born  in  winter  are  long-lived. 

A  STRICT  Pythagorlcal  or  Cornarus*s  diet, 
of  equal   proportion,  is  good  to  make  fludi- 
ous  men  liv^e  long.     But  by  free  eating  and 
drinking,    and    a   plentiful    diet,    common 
people  live  longeft.  A  temperate  diet,  though 
healthy,  is  no  caufe  of  long  life  :  for  the 
ftri^l  diet  breeds  few  fpirits,  confuming  lefs 
moifture,  and  the  fall  diet  yields  mere  re- 
pairing nourifhment ;  but  the  moderate  diet 
affords  neither  fewer  fpirits,  nor  more  nou- 
rifhment.      With    a    ftri^l   diet,    watclnng 
muft  be  ufed  to  keep   fleep  from   opprellino- 
the  fpirits,  being  few;  and  alfo  moderate ex- 
ercife,  and  abftinence  from  venery:    but  a 
plentiful  diet  requires  much  fleep,  frequent 
exercife,  and  feafonable  venery.  The  learned 
and  wife  pliyfician  Celfus  held,   that  variety 
and  change  of  good  plentiful  diet  was  befl ; 
alfo  watching,  but  oftener  long  fleep  ;  fafl- 
ing,  but  more  frequently  feafling;  and  bu-» 
■finefs  fometimes,  but  oftener  pleafure  and 
recreation,  were  good  and  healthy.  In  keep- 
ing a  good  diet,  which  is  the  greatefl  leng- 

thener 


4l6  HISTORY  OF   LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

thenerof  life,  there  are  different  obfervations. 
I  remember  that  an  old  man  above  an  hun- 
dred years  of  age,  produced  for  a  witnefs  in 
a  plea  of  prefcription,  having  given  in  evi- 
dence, and  being  alked  by  the  Judges  by 
what  means  he  had  Uved  fo  long,  anfwered, 
*'  By  eating  before  I  was  hungry,  and  drink- 
*'  ing  before  I  was  thirfty." 

A  RELIGIOUS  holy  life  may  caufe  a  long 
life;  for  retirement,  reft,  divine  contempla- 
tion, fpiritual  joy,  noble  hope,  wholefome 
fear,  a  pleafmg  melancholy,  newnefs  of  life, 
ftrid  obfervations,  repentance,  and  fatisfac- 
tion,  lengthen  the  natural  life  of  a  morti- 
fied chriftian;  and  their  auftere  diet  hardens 
the  body,  and  humbles  the  fpirit :  fo  that 
Paul  the  Hermit,  and  Simeon  the  x^nchoritCj 
and  many  other  monks,  lived  thus  in  the 
wildernefs  until  they  were  old. 

Next  to  this  is  the  learned  life  of  phi-* 
lofophers,  rhetoricians,  and  grammarians, 
living  in  eafe,  and  thoughts  not  relating  to 
bufinefs,  without  grief,  delighting  in  variety, 
and  in  the  pleafant  converfation  of  young 
men.  But  philofophy  had  various  effects  on 
long  life,  according  to  its  fubjecl ;  for  fuper- 
llitious,   high,     contemplative    philofophy, 

as 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.       417 

as  the  Pythagorlcal,  Platonic,  and  natural 
philofophy,  metaphjfics  and  moral  philo- 
fophy  of  heroic  virtues,  were  good  flu  dies  to 
prolong  life :  fuch  was  the  philofophy  of 
Bemocrhus,  Philolaus,  Xemphon,  aflrolog^rs, 
arid  ftoics;  alfo  philofOphy,  not  profound 
and  fpeculative,  but  agreeable  to  common 
opinion,  as  profefled  by  Carneades  and  th6 
Academics,  Rhetoricians,  and  Grammarians, 
was  conducive  to  life:  but  difficult,  fubtle 
philofophy,  weighing  matters  in  the  fcale  of 
principles,  and  full  of  thorny  queftions,  was  a 
bad  fludy,  to  which  the  peripatetics  and  fcho- 
laftics  were  devoted. 

The  country  life,  bufied  in  employments 
abroad,  a^live,  and  keeping  a  frefh  homely 
diet,  without  care  and  tnyj,  prolong  life. 
•  The  military  life  is  good  in  youth,  many 
excellent  warriors  having  lived  to  a  great 
age,  as  Corvinus,  CamUlus,  Xemphon,  Agefi- 
laus,  and  others  both  ancient  and  modern. 
Alfo  the  improvement  of  virtue,  byincreafmg 
daily  in  goodnefs,  and  labouring  in  youth, 
prolong  life,  the  remembrance  thereof  being 
fweet  in  age.  Befides,  military  affedions, 
i-aifed  with  the  defire  and  hope  of  vldory,  in- 
fufe  into  the  fpirits  heat  agreeable  tolongiife. 
Vol.  11.  Ee  ME, 


4lS       HISTORY  OF   LIFE  AND  DEATH^ 


MEDICINES  FOR    LONG  LIFE, 


nPHERE  are  many  medicines  for  preferv- 
ing  health,  and  curmg  difeafes,  but  few 
•to  prolong  life :  therefore  the  mofl  notable 
ones,  called  Cordials,  (hall  be  here  propofcd  ; 
for  cordials  taken  to  fortify  and  ftrengthen 
the  heart  and  fpirits  againfl  polfon  and  dif- 
eafes, ufed  with  judgment,  may  be  powerful 
to  prolong  life.  Thefe  which  are  felected, 
and  fet  down,  are  bed. 

Gold  is  exhibited  and  ufed  three  ways ; 
as  potable,  quenched  in  wine,  or  fubflantial, 
as  leaf  and  powder  gold.  Potable  gold  was 
^Iven  firfl:  in  dangerous,  defperate  difeafes ; 
as  an  excellent  powerful  cordial,  receiving 
the  virtual  effedl  from  the  fpirit  of  fait  wherein 
it  is  diffolved ;  for  gold  would  be  more  fove- 
reign  could  It  be  dillblved  without  corrolive 
waters,  or  by  them  when  cleared  of  their 
venomous  quality. 

Pearls  are  taken  in  powder,  or  diflblved 
in  the  juice  of  green  lemons,  or  in  fplccd 
comfits    and   liquors.      The  pearl  and   the 

ihell 


I 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         4T9 

fhell  whercunto  it  cleaves  are  of  one  nature, 
and  in  quality  like  the  fhells  of  river-crabs. 

Two  chriftaline  precious  ftones  are  chief 
cordials,  the  emerald  and  jacinth,  given  in 
the  lame  manner  as  pearls,  but  not  ufually 
diffolved;  yet  thefe  green  fiones  are  of  a 
fharp  operation. 

The  benefit  and  help  received  from  thefe 
medicinal  fpecies,  Ihall  be  hereafter  declared. 

Bezoar  flone  is  of  approved  virtue,  re- 
creating the  fpirits,  and  provoking  gentle 
fweat.  Unicorn's-horn  is  of  like  efteem 
with  the  hart's-horn,  and  the  bone  of  its 
heart,  ivory,  and  the  like. 

Ambergris  is  very  good  to  comfort  and 
refrefh  the  fpirits. 

Prescriptions  for  diet  being  here  only 
delivered,  hot  waters  and  chymical  oils, 
having  a  defhrudlive,  violent  operation,  and 
alfo  hot  fpices  are  to  be  rejected  ;  and  waters 
muft  be  made  more  temperate,  lively,  and 
fragrant  than  phlegmatic  diflillations,  or  hot 
extracts  of  the  fpirit  of  wine. 

Often  letting  blood,  proved  good  by  ex- 
perience, is  good  to  prolong  life;  the  old 
moifture  of  the  body  being  thereby  evacu- 
ated, and  new  fupplied. 

E  e  2  Con- 


I 


420        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  Al^D  DEATH. 

CoNSUMPTiOMs  alfoand  ficknefles  procur- 
ing leannefs,  being  well  cured,  lengthen  life, 
the  body  being  thereby  fup plied  with  new 
moifture  after  the  confumption  of  the  old ; 
therefore  it  is  faid,  that  to  grow  healthy  after 
fuch  a  ficknefs  is  to  grow  youthful.  The  pro- 
curing of  ficknefs  by  artificial  diets  fliall  be 
hereafter  declared. 


INTENTIONS. 


ENQUIRY  having  been  made  concern- 
ing inanimate  bodies,  vegetables,  living  crea- 
tures, and  man,  a  new  fearch  by  true  and 
proper  intentions,  refembling  the  paths  of 
mortal  life  fhall  be  made,  and  more  elFedlual 
than  all  former  contemplations  of  comfort- 
ing natural  heat,  and  radical  moiflure,  or 
of  meats  breeding  good  blood,  neither  hot 
nor  phlegmatic,  and  of  refrefhing  and  re- 
creating the  fpirits ;  or  of  medicines  abfurdly 
imagined  to  produce  the  fame  properties  as 
the  fubftances  from  which  they  are  taken ; 
fuch  as  gold  to  operate  incorruption ;  gems 
and  pearls,  vivacity  of  fpirit ;  deer,  fcrpents, 

ajid 


i 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        42I 

and  eagles,  from  renovating  fome  of  their 
parts  to  renew  age  :  the  influence  of  planets, 
and  other  fuch  abfurdities,  by  which  reafon 
being  befieged,  has  miferablj  yielded  up  the 
fort  of  belief.  But  to  thefe  material  inten- 
tions, though  not  largely  handled,  much 
cannot  be  added  ;  fome  few  admonitions  only 
concerning  them  are  to  be  delivered. 

First,  the  offices  and  duties  of  life  being 
better  than  life,  are  not  hindered  by  our  pre- 
fcriptions;   fuch   being    rejefted,   or   lightly 
mentioned,  and  not infiflied  on:   fornoferious 
difcourfe  of  living  in  a  den  or  hole  of  a  rock, 
like  Epimenides's  cave  never  befriended  with 
any  cheerful  fun-beam,  or  day-light;  or  of 
continual  baths  of  prepared  liquors;   nor  of 
enclofmg  the  body  in  fear-clothes,  nor  plaif- 
tering  it  with  paint,  as  ufed  by  Savages ;  or 
of  accurate  diets  to  prolong  life,   formerly 
kept  by  Herodicus,  and  in  our  age  more  mo- 
derately  by  Cornarus    Fenetus,   nor  the  like 
unprofitable,  idle   projeds,    are   here   men- 
tioned.    But  our  remedies  and  precepts  may 
be  ufed  without  interrupting  and  hindering 
common  duties  and  bufinefs. 

Secondly,  It  is  a  vain  conceit  to  imagine 
that  any  potion  or  medicine  can  ftay  or  re- 


422         HISTORY   OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

new  the  courfe  of  nature;  which  great  works 
muft  be  brought  about  and  effe£led  by  appli^ 
cation  of  divers  remedies  ;  and,  being  a  new 
projed,  muil:  be  wrought  by  unufual  means' 
Thirdly,  fome  following  proportions  are  not 
grounded  on  approved  experiments,  but  on 
reafon ;  and  our  former  principles  and  fuppo- 
litions  are  all  cut  and  digged  out  of  the  rock 
and  mine  of  nature.  And  becaufe  man's  body 
is  in  fcripture  faid  to  be  the  foul's  upper  gar- 
ment; therefore  no  dangerous,  but  whole- 
fome  and  profitable  remedies  are  here  pro- 
pounded. Belides,  it  is  obfervable,  that  the 
fame  drugs  are  not  good  to  preferve  health, 
and  lengthen  life  ;  for  fome  being  good  to 
cheer  the  fpirits,  and  make  them  vigoroufly 
and  ftrongly  perform  their  duties,  do  fliorten 
life ;  others  being  powerful  to  prolong  life, 
imlcfs  prevention  be  ufed,  endanger  health , 
therefore  fome  cautions  and  advertifements 
Hiall  be  inferted,  leaving  the  choice  of  fe- 
veral  remedies  belonging  to  the  feveral  inten- 
tions to  the  reader's  difcretion.  For  their 
agreeablenefs  to  different  conftitutions  of 
bodies,  to  divers  kinds  of  life,  and  feveral 
ages,  and  the  order  obfervable  in  their  appli- 
cation. 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH,        423 

cation,  would  be  too  tedious  to  declare,  and 
unfit  to  be  publiflied. 

The  third  intention  propofed  in  the  topics, 
of  ftaying  confumption,  perfecting  repara- 
tion and  renewing  age,  are  enlarged  into  thefe 
ten  operations. 

THEfirfl  of  which  is  of  reviving  and  re- 
newing the  fpirits. 

The  fecond  operation  is  of  excluding  or 
keeping  out  the  air. 

The  third,  of  blood,  and  heat  breeding 
blood. 

The  fourth,  of  the  juice  and  moiflure  of 
the  body. 

The  fifth,  of  the  bowels,  and  digeftion  of 
nourifliment. 

The  fixth  is  of  the  outward  parts  attra£l- 
ing  nourifliment. 

The  feventh  is  of  making  diet  more  nou- 
rifliing. 

The  eighth  is  the  lafl  a£l:  of  affimilation, 
or  converting  into  the  fubftance  of  the  body. 
The  ninth  is  of  making  the  parts  of  the 
body  tender,  after  they  begin  to  wither  and 
wax  dry. 

The  tenth  is  of  purging  out  old  moiflure^ 
and  filling  the  body  with  newmoifture. 

E  e  4  Of 


424         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

Of  thefe  operations,  the  firfl:  four  belong 
to  the  firfl  intention ;  the  fecond  four  to  the 
fecond  intention  ;  and  the  two  laft  to  the 
third  intention. 

And  becaufe  thefe  intentions  maybe  daily 
pradifed,  therefore  under  the  name  of  an 
hiftory;  experiments,  obfervations,  counfels, 
remedies,  explications  of  caufes  and  reafons, 
are  blended  and  mingled  togethero 


To    CONTINUEand    renew 


THE 


VIGOUR    OF    THE    SPIRITS. 


nPHAT  the  fpirits  work  all  effeas  in  the 
Body,  is  moft  clear  and  evident  by  di- 
vers  experiments. 

Youthful  fpirits  conveyed  into  an  old 
body,  would,  like  a  great  wheel  turning 
about  the  lelTer,  make  nature  move  back- 
ward, and  old  folks  become  young. 

In 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         425 

In  all  confumptlons  by  fire  or  age,  the 
more  moifture  that  the  fplrit  or  heat  de- 
vours,  the  lefs  durable  is  the  fubd-ancc. 

The  fpirits  working  temperately,  (hould 
not  drink  or  devour,  but  fip  the  mciflure  of 
the  body. 

Flames  are  of  two  kinds,  fudden  and 
weak,  confuming  thin  fubftances,  as  the 
blazing  flame  of  flraw,  and  fliavings  of  wood : 
the  other  ftrong  and  conftant,  invading  hard 
flubborn  fubftances,  as  the  flame  of  great 
wood. 

Flames  fuddenly  blazing  and  weak,  dry, 
confume,  and  parch  the  body;  but  ftrong 
flames  difl[blve  and  melt  the  body,  making 
it  moift  and  foft. 

Some  purgatives  carry  oft  watery  thin 
humours,  others  watery,  ftubborn,  flimy 
matter. 

Such  fpirits  as  are  more  powerful  to  abate 
and  fubdue  hard  flubborn  humours,  than  to 
evacuate  thin  and  prepared  humours,  will 
keep  the  body  lufty  and  flirono-. 

The  fpirits  fliould  be  thick  in  fubftance, 
hot,  and  lively,  not  fharp  and  burning;  of 
fufficient  quantity,  not  abounding;  and  quiet 


in 


426  HISTORY   OF  LIFE  AND    DEATH. 

in  motion,  not  bounding  in  an  unruly  man- 
ner. 

Vapours  work  powerfully  on  the  fpirits, 
as  thole  do  ariling  from  fleep,  drunkennefs, 
melancholy,  and  merry  paflions,  and  from 
odours  and  fweet  fmell  recreating  the  faint- 
ing fpirits. 

The  fpirits  are  thickened  by  four  forts  of 
means;  by  flight,  cooling,  delight,  and  re- 
firaint:   and  hrfl  of  their  thickening  by  flight. 

Bodies,  from  their  being  put  to  flight,  are 
forced  into  their  centre,  and  fo  thickened. 

The  juice  of  black  poppy,  and  all  medi- 
cines procuring  fleep,  thicken  the  fpirits  by 

Three  grains  of  poppy-juice  will  make 
the  fpirits  curdle  together,  and  quite  extin- 
guifli  their  working. 

The  fpirits  are  not  put  to  flight  by  the 
coldnefs  of  poppy-juice,  and  the  like  drugs 
being  hot ;  but  the  flight  of  the  fpirits  makes 
them  hot  by  condeniing. 

The  flight  of  the  fpirits  from  poppy -juice 
is  beft  difcerned  by  the  outward  apphcation, 
making  them  withdraw  and  retire,  and  keep 
within,  until  the  mortified  part  turns  to  a 
gangrene. 

In 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.  427 

In  painful  inciiions,  cutting  for  the  ftone, 
or  cutting  off  limbs,  juice  of  hemlock 
is  ufed  to  mitigate  the  pain,  by  putting  the 
fpirits  to  flight,  and  cafling  the  patient  into 
a  fwoon. 

The  thickening  of  the  fpirits  by  flight, 
and  driving  inwards,  is  a  good  effect  of  pop- 
py-juice,  proceedin.g  from  a  bad  caule  ;  that 
is,   the  flight  of  the  fpirits. 

Poppy  was  efteemed  by  the  Grecians  to  be 
a  great  preferver  of  health,  and  prolonger  of 
life  :  the  principal  ingredient  ufed  by  the 
Jlrabians,  called  God's  hands,  was  poppy- 
juice,  the  bad  qualities  thereof  being  allayed 
with  other  mixtures,  as  treacle,  mithridate, 
and  the  like. 

All  medicines  thickening  the  fpirits,  as 
poppy  efpecially,  and  flaying  and  retraining 
their  unruly  working  and  raging  in  peflilen- 
tial  difeales,  are  good  to  prolong  life. 

A  GOOD  quantity  of  poppy-juice,  being 
found  by  experience  to  be  comfortable,  is 
taken  by  the  ^urks  to  make  them  valiant ; 
but  tons,  unlefs  taken  in  a  fmall  quantity, 
ind  well  allayed,  it  is  deadly  poifon. 

Poppy-juice  alfo  flrengthens  the  fpirits, 
and  excites  to  venery. 

The 


428  HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

The  dlftilled  water  of  wild  poppy  is  good 
for  furfeits,  fevers,  and  divers  difeafes ;  the 
fpirits  being  thereby  thickened  and  ftrength- 
ened  to  refiil:  any  difeafes. 

The  T'urks  dnnk  the  powder  of  an  herb  in 
warm  water,  to  increafe  their  valour,  and 
fharpnefs  of  wit;  but  a  greater  quantity 
thereof  is  of  a  ftupifying  power  Hke  poppy. 

The  Eqfi-Ind'ums  refrefh  themfelves  before 
and  after  labour,  by  chewang  a  famous  root 
called  betel ;  which  enables  alfo  their  a6ls 
of  generation,  and  is  of  a  ftuplfying  power, 
becaufe  it  blacks  the  teeth. 

Tobacco,  in  this  age  grown  fo  common, 
and  yielding  fuch  a  fecret  delight  and  con- 
tent, that  being  once  taken,  it  can  hardly  be 
forfaken,  it  lightens  the  body,  and  takes  off 
wearinefs ;  opening  the  pores,  and  voiding 
humours,  but  thickening  the  fpirits;  being 
a  kind  of  henbane,  and  like  poppy,  troubles 
the  brain. 

SoiME  hun^sours  of  the  body,  as  thofe  pro- 
ceeding from  melancholy,  are  like  poppy- 
juice,  and  caufe  long  life. 

Opium,  or  poppy-juice,  the  leaves  and 
feeds  of  both  kinds  of  poppy  ;  alfo  henbane, 
mandrake,  hemlock,  tobacco,   nlght-fhade, 

or 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         429 

or  banewort,  have  all  a  drowfy,  flupifying 
power. 

Treacle,  mithridate,  trifer,  Paracelfus's 
gum,  fyrup  of  poppy,  pills  of  hound's 
tongue,  are  compound  drugs  of  the  fame 
nature. 

These  prefcriptlons  prolong  life,  in  thick- 
ening the  fpirits  by  cooling. 

In  youth,  keep  every  year  a  cool  diet 
about  May,  the  fpirits  in  fummer  being  loofe 
and  thin :  and  take  a  julip  of  poppy,  and 
other  hot  ingredients,  but  not  too  ftrong, 
every  morning  between  fleep;  then  keep  a 
fpare  diet  for  fourteen  days  afterwards,  for- 
bearing wine,   and  hot  fpices. 

Smokes  and  fteams  being  not  too  purga- 
tive to  draw  forth  humours,  but  having  a 
light  operation  on  the  fpirits  of  the  brain, 
cool  the  fpirits  as  well  as  coolers ;  therefore 
a  fufFumigation  made  of  tobacco,  wood  of 
aloes,  dry  rofemary-leaves,  and  a  little 
myrrh,  being  in  the  morning  received  into 
the  noftrils,   is  very  whole fome. 

But  the  water  of  compound  opiate  drugs, 
the  vapour  rifmg  in  dirtilling,  and  the  heat 
fettling  downv^ards,  is  better  to  be  taken  in 
youth,    than   the  drugs;  for  the   virtue   of 

dif. 


430       HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

dlftilled  waters  is  in  their  vapour,  being  iii 
other  refpe6ls  weak. 

Some  drugs  being  like  poppy,  but  not  fo 
flrong,  yield  a  drowfy,  cooling  vapour,  and 
more  wholefome  than  poppy,  by  colle6ling 
not  repelling  the  fpirits. 

The  drugs  like  unto  poppy,  are  fafFron, 
and  fafFron-flowers,  the  Indian  leaf,  amber- 
gris, coriander-feed  prepared;  amomum, 
pfeudamomum,  rhodian  wood,  water  of  o- 
range  bloffoms,  and  an  infufion  of  the  flowers 
fteeped  in  oil  of  olives,  and  a  nutmeg  dif- 
folved  in  rofe- water. 

Use  poppy  fparingly  at  fet  times;  but 
thefe  other  drugs  taken  in  daily  diet  are  very 
ibvereigu  to  prolong  life. 

PHARMACOPiEUsinGz/^a-^/,  by  ufnig  am- 
ber, lived  to  an  hundred  and  fixty  years  of 
age;  and  the  nobilky  of  Barbaty,  by  ufing 
the  fame  drug,  are  longer-lived  than  the 
common  people  :  and  our  long-lived  ancef- 
tors  ufed  faffron  very  much  in  their  cakes 
and  broths.  So  much  of  thickening  the  fpi- 
rits by  poppy,  and  other  drugs. 

The  fecond  way  and  means  to  thicken  the 
fpirits,  is  by  cold;  for  cold  does  properly 
thicken,  and,  by  a  fafer  operation  and  workr 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.  431 

ing  than  the   malignant  qualities  of  poppy 
though  not  fo  powerfully;  yetbecaufe  cooK 
ers  may  be  familiarly  ufed  in  daily  diet,  thev 
are  better  to  prolong  life  than  drowfy  potions 
ordru^s. 

The  fpirits  are  cooled  by  breathing,  hv 
vapours,  or  by  diet;  the  firft  wav  is  beft, 
but  difficult;  the  fecond  good  and  eafv;  thl 
third,  weak  and  tedious 

The  pure  dear  air,  which  mav  be  taken 
on  the  dry  tops  of  mountains,  alid  in  onen 
ftady  fields,   is  good  to  thicken  the  fpirits. 

Also  vapours  cool  and  thicken;  and 
mtre  has  in  this  kind  a  fpecial  operation, 
grounded  on  thefe  reafons. 

NiTBEisakindof  fpice;  being  fo  cold 
that  It  bites  the  tongue  as  hot  fpices  do. 
_  The  fpirits  of  all  drugs  naturally,  not  ac- 
cidentally cold,  are  few  and  weak  :  Vpirituous 
drugs  are,  on  the  contrary  hot  ;  nitre  only 
having  abundance  of  fpirits,  is  of  a  vegetable 
nature  and  cold.  For  camphire  is  fpirituou.. 
and  cold  m  operation  by  accident;  audits 
qua  ity  thm  ..i^hout  Iharpnefs,  lengthens 
the  breath  in  inflammations. 

Also    nitre  mingled  with  fnow  and  ice 
and  put  about  veflels,  congeals  and  freezes 


'  the 


43^  HISTOHY  OF  LIFE  AKD  DEATHS 

the  liquor  within;  and  common  bay-falt 
makes  fnow  colder,  and  more  apt  to  freeze. 
But  in  hot  countries,  where  no  fnow  falls, 
nitre  is  only  uled. 

Seamen  and  foldlers,  to  make  them  va- 
liant, drink  gunpowder  before  they  fight 
or  join  battle,  as  the  ^urks  do  poppy. 

Nitre  allays  the  deflroying  heat  of  burn- 
ing agues,  and  peflilential  fevers. 

The  nitre  in  gunpowder,  fhunning  the 
flame  when  a  piece  is  fired,  makes  the  crack 
and  report. 

Nitre  is  the  fplrit  of  the  earth;  for  any 
pure  earth  covered  or  fhaded  from  the  fun- 
beams,  fo  that  nothing  fprings  or  grows 
thence,  will  gather  ftore  of  nitre  ;  the  fpirit 
of  nitre  being  inferior  to  the  fpirit  of  living 
creatures,  of  vegetables,  and  plants. 

Cattle  drinking  water  wherein  there 
is  nitre,  grow  fat,  which  is  a  fign  that  the 
nitre  is  cold. 

Lands  and  grounds  are  made  rank  and 
mellow  by  the  fattening  quality  of  the  fpirit 
of  nitre  which  is  in  dung. 

Therefore  the  fpirit  of  nitre  will  cool, 
thicken,  refrefh  the  fpirit  s,  and  abate 
their  heat.     For  as  ftrong  wines  and  fpices 

do 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         433 

fenfiame  the  fpirits,  and  fliorten  life,  fo 
nitre,  compofing  and  reftraining  the  fpirits^ 
prolongs  life. 

Nitre  may  be  ufed  with  meat,  and  eaten 
with  lalt  to  the  proportion  of  a  tenth  part, 
and  put  in  morning  broths  from  three  grains 
to  ten,  or  in  drink :  and  being  ufed  in  any 
manner  moderately,  it  prolongs  life* 

As  other  drugs  befides  poppy, being  weakei; 
and  fafer  to  be  taken  in  greater  quantity, 
and  oftener,  condenfate  and  thicken  the 
fpirits  by  flight ;  fo  drugs  of  an  inferior  na- 
ture and  operation  to  nitre,  cool  and  thicken 
the  fpirits. 

All  drugs  inferior  to  nitre  fmell  earthly^ 
like  good  pure  earth  newly  turned  up  and 
digged :  the  chief  whereof  are  burrage,  bug- 
lofs,  burnet,  flrawberry-leaves,  and  ftraw- 
berries,  cucumbers,  and  fragrant  apples, 
vine-leaves  and  buds,  and  violets. 

Next  to  thefe  are  drugs  of  a  hot  fmell^ 
but  cooling;  as  balm,  citrons,  and  lemons, 
green  oranges,  rofe-Water,  roafted  pears,  da-^ 
mafk  and  red  rofes,  and  mulk  rofes. 

These  fruits,  inferior  to  nitre  for  thicken- 
ing the  fpirits,  fhould  be  ufed  raw,  not  roaft- 
ed, their  cooling  fpirits  being  difperfed  by 

Vol.  IL  Ff  £rej 


434        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

iire ;  therefore  to  infufe  or  fqueeze  them  into 
drmk,  or  to  eat  or  fmell  to  them  raw,  is  beft. 

The  fpirits  are  thickened  alfo  by  the 
odour  and  fmell  of  other  drugs  inferior  to 
poppy  and  nitre :  for  the  fmell  of  pure  frefh 
earth,  coming  from  following  a  plough, 
di<rging  or  weeding,  and  the  fmell  of  leaves 
fallen  from  trees  in  woods  or  hedge-rows,  at 
the  beginning  of  Autumn,  is  good  to  cool 
the  fpirits,  and  efpecially  withered  ftraw- 
berry-leaves ;  alfo  the  fmell  of  violets,  the 
flowers  of  pellitory  of  the  wall,  blackberries, 
and  madre-felve,  is  cooling. 

A  Nobleman  of  my  acquaintance,  who 
lived  to  be  very  old,  ufually  after  deep 
fmelled  to  a  clod  of  frefh  earth. 

Also  endive,  fuccory,  liverwort,  purflain, 
&c.  by  coohng  the  blood,  cool  alfo  the 
fpirits,  though  not  fo  foon  as  vapours  and 
fmells.  So  much  of  thickening  the  fpirits 
by  flight.  The  third  kind  of  thickening  is 
by  delight:  the  fourth,  by  the  reftraint  of 
their  cheerfulnefs,  joyfulnefs,  and  too  vio- 
lent motions. 

The  fpirits  are  mitigated  and  thickened  by 
fuch  pleafmg  objedls  as  do  not  draw  them 
forth,  but  afford  them  inward  delight ;  where- 
by 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         435 

by  being  collecled  Into   their  center,   they 
enjoy   themlelv^es,    and    £nd  a  fweet    con- 


tent. 


The  former  pofitions  of  drugs  inferior  to 
opium  and  nitre  being  here  remembered,  fur- 
ther enquiry  of  thickening  the  fpirits,  by 
cooling,   will   be  needlefs. 

The  reftraint  of  the  violent  afFe(ftions  and 
motions  of  the  fpirits  (hall  be  hereafter  de- 
clared:  now  the  thickening  of  the  fpirits 
having  been  fliewn,  the  qualification  and 
temper  of  their  heat  follows. 

The  fpirits  fhould  not  be  hot  and  fharp, 
but  flrong  and  luily,  to  conquer  and  fubdue 
refifting  matter ;  not  to  attenuate  and  expel 
thin  humours. 

Spices,  wine,  and  ftrong  drink  mufl:  be 
temperately  ufed,  and  after  abflinence  has 
refrefhed  the  appetite  :  and  alfo  favory,  mar- 
gerum-,  penny-royal,  and  all  heaters  that  bite 
on  the  tongue,  muft  be  feldom  ufed;  the 
heat  infufed  by  them  into  the  fpirits  being 
not  operative,  but  a  dev^ouring  heat. 

These  herbs  ftrengthen   the  heat  of  the 

fpirits ;  endive,  garlick,  bleffed-thilBe,  young 

crelTes,    germander,    angelica,    worm-feed, 

vervain,  fet-well,  myrrh,   pepper-wort,  el- 

F  f  2  der 


43^         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

der-buds,  and  parfley;  and  ufed  in  fauces 
and  medicines,  are  hot  in  operation. 

Also  of  cooling  drugs,  compounded  with 
euphorbium,  baftard-pellitorj,  ftavefacres, 
dragon-wort,  anacardium,  oil  of  beaver's- 
ftone,  hart-wort,  opoponax,  gum  of  Agafil- 
lis  and  Galbanum,  and  the  like,  to  allay  the 
drowfy,  {lupifying  power  of  poppy,  a  very 
good  medicine  to  ftrengthen  the  fpirits,  and 
make  them  hot  and  lufly,  may  be  made  like 
treacle  and  mithridate,  being  not  fharp,  nor 
biting  on  the  tongue,  but  bitter,  and  of  a 
ftrong  fcent,  yet  hot  in  the  flomach,  or  in 
their  operations. 

The  defire  of  venery  often  flirred  up  and 
excited,  but  feldom  fatisfied  in  a6l,  does 
ftrengthen  the  heat  of  the  fpirits,  and  fo  do 
fome  of  the  aifedlions.  So  much  of  the  heat 
of  the  fpirits  being  a  caufe  of  long  li'fe. 

The  fpirits  fliould  not  abound,  but  be 
few  and  moderate ;  for  a  fmall  flame  devours 
not  fo  much  as  a  greater. 

A  SPARING  Pythagorical  diet,  fuch  as 
Monks  and  Hermits,  under  the  order  of  St. 
Neceffity,  and  St.  Poverty^  ufed,  is  good  ta 
prolong  life«r 

Also 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         437 

Also  drinking  of  water,  hard  lodging, 
cold  fpare  diet  of  fallads,  fruits,  powder- 
ed flefh,  and  fait  fifh,  without  any  frefh 
warm  naeat;  a  hair  fhirt,  fading,  watching, 
abflinence  from  fenfual  pleafures,  abate  and 
diminifh  the  fpirits,  which  being  reduced  to 
a  quantity  fufficient  to  maintain  life,  do  make 
lefler  wafte  on  the  body. 

But  a  higher  diet,  kept  in  an  equal,  con- 
flant  manner,  has  the  fame  ^ operation  :  for 
a  great,  conftant,  quiet  flame  confumes  not 
fo  much  as  a  leffer  which  blazes  but  -une- 
qually :  and  Cornarus  Venetus^  keeping  fuch 
a  conftant  diet,  and  drinking  and  eating  fo 
many  years  by  juil:  proportion  and  weight, 
lived  in  perfect  health  until  he  was  an  hun- 
dred years  of  age. 

Also  to  avoid  inflammation  of  the  fpirits, 
a  full  fed  body,  not  mortified  by  ftridl  diets, 
mufl  ufe  feafonable  venery,  left  the  fpirits 
fwelling  too  much,  foften  and  deftroy  the 
body. 

The  reftraint  of  the  fpirits  motion  is  next 
to  be  conhdered ;  for  motion  makes  the  fpirits 
hot.  There  are  three  reftrainers  of  the  fpi- 
rits, flcep,  avoiding  violent  labour;  exercife 
and  wearinefs;  and  the  governing  and  mo- 
^  i  '^  derating 


43^        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH,      . 

derating  of  troublefome  affeclions.     And  firft 
of  deep. 

Epimenides  flept  many  years  in  a  cave 
without  any  food,  becaufe  the  fpirits  in  fleep 
devour  not  much  radical  moifture. 

Also  dormice  and  bats  fleep  in  holes  all  the 
winter,  thereby  reflraining  the  confuming 
power  of  their  vital  fpirits :  fo  bees  wanting 
honey,  and  butter-flies  and  flelh-flies  live 
hy  deep. 

Sleep  after  dinner,  the  firft  vapours  of 
ineat  like  a  dew  afcending  then  into  the  head, 
is  good  for  the  fpirit,  but  unwholefome  for 
the  body :  and  deep  is  as  nourifhing  as  meat 
for  old  folks,  who  fhould  often  take  light 
refe£lions,  andfhort  naps;  and  being  grown 
extreme  old,  fhould  live  in  continual  eafe 
and  refl,  efpecially  in  winter. 

Thus  moderate  deep,  being  found  and 
quiet,  prolongs  life. 

To  make  one  deep  foundly  and  quietly, 
violets  are  good  ;  fodden-lettuce,  fyrup  of 
rofes,  faffron,  balm,  apples  eaten  before  go- 
ing to  bed  ;  a  fop  dipped  in  malmfey,  where- 
in a  muflc-rofe  has  been  deeped,  a  pill  or 
potion  made  of  thefe  ingredients.  Alfo  all 
binding  drugs,    as  coriander-^feed  prepared, 

and 


1 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        439 

and  roafted  quinces  and  pears,  caufe  found 
and  quiet  deep  :  but  a  good  draught  of  clear 
cold  water,  is  beftto  make  young  folks,  who 
have  ftrong  ftomachs  fleep  foundly. 

Voluntary  extafies,  and  fixed  profound 
meditations,  joined  with  a  quiet  mind,  do 
thicken  the  fpirits  more  than  fleep,  making 
them  reft  from  outward  operations,  as  fleep 
docs. 

Violent,  wearlfome  exerclfes  and  moti- 
ons, as  running,  tennis,  fencing,  are  not  good  • 
nor  ftraining  of  ftrength  to  the  utnioft,  as 
leaping  and  wreftling :  for  the  fpirits,  by 
fuch  violent  nimble  motions  and  mufcular 
exertions  driven  Into  a  narrow  room,  be- 
come more  (harp  and  praedatory,  or  devour- 
ing; but  dancing,  fhooting,  riding,  bowHng, 
and  fuch  moderate  exerclfes,  are  very  heal- 
thy. 

Some  of  the  affe6lions  and  paflions  of  the 
mind  Ihorten  the  life  of  man,  and  fome  caufc 
long  life. 

By  exceeding  great  joy  the  fpirits  are  made 
thin,  loofe,  and  weak;  but  by  familiar  com-? 
mon  recreation  they  are  not  diffipated,  but 
ilrengthened. 

F  f  4  Joy 


•440        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

Joy  arlfing  from  fenfual  pleafure  is  bad, 
but  the  remembrance  of  former  joy,  or  the 
apprehenfion  of  joy  to  come,  conceived  only 
in  the  imagination,  is  good. 

An  inward  conceived  joy,  fparingly  vent- 
ed, comforts  the  heart  more  than  a  vulgar, 
immoderate  expreffion  of  joy. 

Sorrow  and  grief  without  fear,  and  not 
too  heavy  and  grievous,  prolong  life  by  con- 
trading  the  fpirits,  which  is  a  kind  of  con- 
denfation  or  thickening. 

Great  fears  fhorten  life;  for  though 
both  forrow  and  fear  contra6t  the  fpirits, 
yet  forrow  does  only  contrad;  but  fear, 
mingled  with  care  and  hope,  heats  and 
vexes  the  fpirits. 

Anger,  being  clofe  and  fuppreffed  is  a 
kind  of  vexation,  making  the  fpirits  de- 
vour the  moiilure  of  the  body,  but  vented, 
flrengthens  the  heat  of  the  fpirits. 

By  envy,  the  worftofpaffions,  the  fpirits, 
and  by  them  the  body,  are  hurt  and  weak- 
ened, being  always  in  adion ;  for  envy  is 
faid  to  keep  no  holy-days. 

Pity  and  compaflion  of  another's  mifery, 
^hereinto  we  cannot  poffibly  fall,  is  good; 

but 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        441 

but  pity  refle6ling  back,  and  exciting  fear  of 
being  in  as  bad  a  cafe,  is  hurtful. 

Shame,  lightly  at  the  firfl  drawing  in 
the  fpirits,  and  afterwards  fending  them 
forth  again,  makes  blufhing  folks  commonly 
long-lived  :  but  fliame  arifmg  from  reproach, 
and  continuing  long,  contradls  and  choaks 
the  fpirits. 

Love  not  unfortunate,  nor  wounding  too 
(deep,  being  a  kind  of  joy,  isgoverned  by  the 
rules  prefcribed  for  joy. 

Hope,  being  the  befl  of  all  the  affedions 
and  pafiions,  is  very  powerful  to  prolong  life, 
if,  like  a  nodding  nurfe,  it  does  not  fall 
afleep  and  languifh,  but  continually  feeds 
the  fmcy  with  beholding  good  obje6ls;  and 
therefore  fuch  as  propofe  certain  ends  to  be 
compaflTed,  thriving  and  profpering  thereia 
according  to  their  defire,  are  commonly  long- 
lived  :  but  having  attained  to  their  higheft 
hopes,  all  their  expedlations  and  defires  being 
fatisfied,  live  not  long  afterwards. 

Admiration  and  light  contemplation  are 
very  good  to  prolong  life,  keeping  the  fpi- 
rits bufied  in  delightful  matters,  and  in  a 
peaceable,  quiet,  gentle  temper:  fo that  all 
philofophers  and  obfervers  of  the  wonders 

of 


44-2        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

of  nature,  as  Democrkus,  Plato,  Parmenides^ 
Jjpollonius,  were  long-lived.     Alfo  rhetorici- 
ans, tafting  only  matters,  and  following  the 
light  of  fpeech,  not  obfcure  dark  philofophy, 
were  alfo  long-lived,  as  Gorgias,  Prothagoras, 
IfocraUs,  Seneca :  and  as  old  men  are  talkative, 
fo  talkative  men  often  live  to  be  old  men ; 
for  talkativenefs  is  a  iign  of  alight  apprehen- 
fion,  not  binding  or  vexing  the  fpirits  :   but 
fubtle,  acute   ftudies,  wearying  and   weak- 
ening the  fpirits,  fhorten  life.     So  much  of 
the  motion  of  the  fpirits  by  the  paflions  of 
the  mind :  fbme  general  obfervations,  not  in-* 
eluded  in  the  former  divifion,  now  follow. 
The  fpirits  muft  not  be  often  diffufed, 
nor  made  thin;  for  the  fpirits  being  once 
extenuated  and  diffipated,  are  not  eafily  col- 
lected and  thickened.   The  fpirits  are  wafted 
by  exceffive  labour,  exceeding   violent  paf- 
lions  of  the  mind,  much  fweating,  much 
evacuation,  warm  bnths,    and    intemperate 
or   unfeafonable  venery :    ^Ifo   care,    grief, 
doubtful  expectation,  iicknefs,  forrow,    and 
pain,  diffolve  the  fpirits,  and  fliould.  there -» 
fore  be  avoided  and  fhunned. 

The  fpirits  delight  in  cuflom  and  novel- 
ties :  for  cuftonas  not  ufed  until  they  grow 

weari-* 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         443 

wearifome,  and  novelties  much  defired,  and 
then  enjoyed,  wonderfully  preferve  the 
vigour  of  the  fpirits  :  therefore  judgment  and 
care  Ihould  be  fl^iewn  m  leaving  oft  cuftoms 
before  they  become  loathfome  and  contemp- 
tible ;  in  m.aking  the  defire  of  novelties 
ftronger  by  refiraint,  and  in  altering  and 
changing  the  courfe  of  our  life,  left  the  fpi- 
rits, employed  in  one  fettled  kind  of  life, 
fliould  grow  heavy  and  dull:  for  though 
Seneca  fays  well,  "  A  fool  doth  always  begin 
"  to  live  ;"  yet  this  folly,  and  many  others, 
lengthen  life. 

It  is  obfervablc,  contrary  to  common  cuf_ 
tom,  that  the  fpirits  being  in  a  good,  quiet, 
found  temper,  difcerned  by  the  quietnefsand 
inward  joy  of  the  mind,  fhouid  be  cherilhed, 
not  changed. 

FiciNus  fays,  that  old  men  fhouid  comfort 
their  fpirits  with  the  actions  of  their  child- 
hood and  youth,  being  a  recreation  proper  to 
age :  therefore  the  remembrance  of  former 
education  together  is  pleafant  in  converfa- 
tion,  and  the  place  of  education  is  beheld 
with  delight:  fo  that  the  emperor  Vcfpajian 
would  not  alter  his  father's  houfe,  though  a 

mean 


444      HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

mean  building,  becaufe  the  old  houfe  put 
Jiim  in  remembrance  of  his  childhood  :  and 
befides,  on  feftival  days  he  would  drink  in  a 
filver-tipt  wooden  cup,  which  was  his  grand- 
mother's. 

Also  an  alteration  of  life  for  the  better,  is 
acceptable  and  delightful  to  the  fpirits ;  there- 
fore youth  and  manhood  having  been  fpent 
in  pleafures  proper  and  peculiar  to  thofe 
ages,  old  age  fhould  enjoy  new  delights, 
efpecially  moderate  eafe.  Therefore  noble- 
men in  their  age  fhould  live  a  retired  kind  of 
life,  as  Cajfiodorus^  having  been  in  great  fa- 
vour with  the  Gothifh  Kings  of  Italy^  and 
accounted  the  foul  and  life  of  their  affairs, 
when  fourfcore  years  old  retired  to  a  monaf- 
tery,  where  he  died  at  the  age  of  one  hun- 
dred and  ten.  But  fuch  retirernent  fliould 
be  before  the  body  is  decayed  and  difeafed, 
for  then  all  changes,  though  for  the  befl:, 
haften  death :  and  a  retired  life  being  under- 
taken, their  minds  and  thoughts  fhould  not 
be  addi6led  to  idlcnefs,  but  employed  in  plea- 
fant,  delightful  ftudies,  or  in  building  and 
planting. 

Lastly, 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        445 

Lastly,  the  fpirits  are  recreated  by  la- 
bour willingly  undertaken,  but  confumed  by 
adion  or  labour  performed  with  unvviliing- 
nefs  :  therefore  a  free  kind  of  life,  contrived 
by  art  to  be  at  our  own  difpofing,  and  an  obe- 
dient mind,  not  refifting,  but  yielding  to  the 
power  of  fortune,  prolong  life. 
^  And  for  the  better  governing  of  the  affec- 
tions, the  body  mull  not  be  foluble  or  loofe  ; 
for  on  all  the  affedions,  except  thofe  arifmg 
from  melancholy,  fuch  laxity  and  loofenefs 
has  more  power,  than  on  the  heart  or  brain. 
This  operation  of  making  the  fpirits  con- 
tinue youthful  and  lufty,  not  mentioned  by 
phyficians,  has  been  more  diligently  handled, 
bccaufe  the  readied  and  mofl  compendious 
way  to  prolong  life  is,  by  renewing  the  fpi- 
rits, working  fuddenly  on  the  body,  as  va- 
pours  andpaffions  work  on  the  fpirits,  in  a 
dired  manner. 


OK 


446         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 


ON       THE 


EXCLUSION    OF    THE    AIR. 


'  I  ^  H  E    excliifion   of    the  air    in  two  re- 

fpefls  lengthens  life  :  firit,  becaufe  the 
outward  air  animating  the  Ipirits,  and  being 
healthful,  docs,  next  to  the  inward  fpirits, 
devour  the  moifture  of  the  body,  growing 
thereby  dry  and  withered. 

Secondly,  by  the  exclufion  of  air,  the 
body  being  fliut  and  clofcd,  and  not  breath- 
mg  forth  at  the  pores,  the  detained  fpirits  by 
their  working,  foften  the  hardnefs  of  it. 

The  rcafon  is  grounded  on  the  infallible 
axiom  of  drynefs,  by  the  emiffion  and  ifliiing 
forth  of  the  fpirits;  bat  by  their  detaining, 
melted  and  foftened.  Befides,  it  is  a  pofition 
that  all  kinds  of  heat  properly  makes  thin 
and  m.oiftens,  and  only  accidentally  con- 
trails and  dries. 

Dwelling  in  caves  and  dens,  the  air 
there  receiving  no  fun-beams,  lengthens 
life;  for  the  air  not  being  excited  by  heat, 

cannot 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         447 

cannot  wafte  and  confume  the  body.  And 
by  divers  ancient  tombs  and  monuments  in. 
iSic/'/v,  and  other  places,  it  is  clearly  evident, 
that  the  ftature  of  man  was  greater  in  former 
ages  than  now.  Epimenides^s  cave  is  an  an- 
cient fable :  and  as  living  in  caves  was  then 
ufual,  fo  the  Anchorites  lived  in  pillars  im- 
penetrable by  the  fun-beams,  and  the  air 
therefore  unchangeable.  The  Anchorites 
Simeon^  St'dita,  Daniel,  and  Saba,  living  in 
pillars,  were  very  long-lived:  alfo  modern 
Anchorites  have  lived  in  walls  and  pillars 
to  a  great  age. 

Dwelling  on  mountains  is  next  to  livlno; 
in  caves  ;  for  the  fun-beams  do  not  penetrate 
into  caves;  and  on  the  tops  of  mountains 
have  no  reflexion,  and  little  ftrength:  but 
to  dwell  on  mountains  having  a  clear  pure 
air,  and  dry  vallies,  whence  no  clouds  or 
vapours  afcend,  like  thofe  mountains  which 
encompafs  Barbary,  whereon  people  live  to 
an  hundred  years  of  age,  is  wholefome. 

Such  an  air,  either  in  caves  or  in  moun- 
tains, is  not  naturally  pra^datory,  but  ouf 
common  air  being  oi  a  heating  qualitv, 
through  the  heat  of  the  fun,  mull:  be  kept 
out  of  the  body. 

The 


448        HISTORY  OF   LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

The  air  is  excluded  by  fiiuttiiig  or  filling 
the  pores. 

Coldness  of  the  air,  nakednefsof  thelkin^ 
wafhing  in  cold  water,  binders  applied  to  it, 
as  maftick,  myrrh,  and  myrtle,  clofe  the 
pores  of  the  body. 

Baths  alfo,  made  of  aftringent  mineral 
waters,  extracted  from  fteel  and  glafs, 
ftrongly  contra6t  and  clofe  the  Ikin,  but  mufl 
be  feldom  ufed,  efpecially  in  fummer. 

Concerning  filling;  painting,  ointments^ 
oils,  and  pomanders,  preferve  the  fubftance 
of  the  body,  as  oil-colours  and  varnifh  pre- 
ferve wood/ 

The  Ancient  Britons  painted  their  bodies 
with  woodj  and  were  very  long-lived;  and 
fo  were  the  Pi5f-s^  receiving  their  name  frorn 
painting  their  bodies. 

The  Virginums  and  BraJiUans  paint  them- 
felves,  and  are  very  long-lived;  for  the 
French  Friars  lately  found  there  fome  Indians 
who  could  remember  an  hundred  and  twenty 
years  hncethe  building  of  F<^r«^wi^/^r^. 

John  of  'Times  living  to  three  hundred 
years  of  age,  being  alked  what  prefervatives 
had  made  him  hve  fo  long,  anfwered,  '*  Oil 
*'  without,  honey  within." 

I  The 


HISTORY   OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        44^ 

The  Wild  IriJId  alfo  liv^e  very  long,  being 
tifed  to  anoint  themfelves  naked  before  the 
fire  with  old  falt-petre  :  and  the  Countefs  of 
Defmond  bred  teeth  thrice,  and  lived  to  an 
hundred  and  forty  years  of  age. 

The  Iri/fj  wear  faffroned-lhien  fhirts, 
which  continue  long  clean,  and  lengthen  life; 
for  faffron  being  a  great  binder,  oily,  and 
hot  without  Iharpnefs,  is  very  comfortable 
to  the  (kin.  1  remember  that  an  EngliJJjman 
going  to  fea,  and  having  put  a  bag  of  fatfroii 
within  his  doublet,  next  his  breafl,  to  avoid 
paying  ofcuflom,  was  in  that  voyage  very 
healthy,  having  been  formerly  always  fea- 
fick. 

Pure  fine  linen,  according  to  the  advice 
t)f  Hippocrates,  fliould  be  worn  in  winter 
next  the  ikin  :  in  fummer  coarfer  linen  and 
biled;  for  the  fpirits  being  then  very  much 
exhaled,  the  pores  of  the  ikin  fhould  be 
clofed  and  filled. 

Anointing  the  fkin  at  the  firfl:  rifing 
but  of  bed  with  oil  of  olives,  or  of  almonds, 
mingled  with  bay- fait  and  faffron,  is  good  to 
lengthen  life.  But  this  mufl:  be  done  lightly 
tvith  wool,  or  a  foft  fponge,  not  poured  on 

Vol.  II.  G  g  th^ 


45'^        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH* 

the  body ;  or  inflead  thereof  oiled  fhirts  may 
be  worn. 

But  the  Grecians  and  Romans^  except  the 
fencers,  formerly  iifing  this  anointing  with 
oil,  now  left  off  in  Italy ^  only  after  bathing, 
to  clofe  the  pores,  too  open  by  the  heat  of 
the  baths,  lived  only  to  the  ufual  period ; 
therefore  bathing  without  anointing  is  un- 
healthy, but  anointing  without  bathing  is 
very  good.  Befides,  precious  ointments  were 
then  ufed  for  delicacy  and  deUght,  not  for 
health,  or  to  lengthen  life. 

Anointing  is  good  to  keep  out  cold  in 
winter,  and  the  fpirits  in  the  fummer  from 
fcattering,  and  to  defend  them  from  the  pras- 
datory  power  of  the  air. 
■  In  anointing  with  oil,  fourcautions,  arifing 
from  four  difcom^modities,  are  to  be  obferved. 

The  firft  difcommodity  is,  that  fuppreiling 
fweat  may  breed  difeafes  out  of  thole  excre- 
mentltious  humours,  if  not  prevented  by 
purgations  and  glifters :  for  fweating,  though 
healthy,  weakens  nature,  and  fhortens  life; 
but  moderate  purgatives  work  on  the  hu- 
mours, not  the  fpirits,  as  fweat  does. 

The   fecond    difcommodity  is,    that  by 
4ieating  and  enflaming  the  body,  the  enclofed 

fpirits 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE   AND  DEATH.        451 

fpirlts  venting  not  forth  by  breathing,  may 
become  hot.  This  inconvenience  is  prevented 
by  a  cool  diet,  and  by  often  taking  fuch 
coolers,  as  in  the  operation  of  blood  fhall  be 
mentioned. 

Thirdly,  anointing  may  make  the  head 
heavy,  by  ftriking  back  the  obflrilded  va* 
pours  towards  it:  but  purgatives,  ghfters^ 
and  clofmg  the  mouth  of  the  ventricle  with 
reflriclive  binders,  and  combing  and  rubbiuo- 
the  head  with  lye  to  caufe  the  exhah.tions:^ 
and  ufing  exercifes  to  vent  humours  by  the 
pores  of  the  ikin,  all  prevent  this  inconve^ 
nience. 

The   fourth    difcommodity,   being   of  a 
more  fubtle  nature,  is  that  bv  detainino-  the 
old  and  continual  generation  of  neXv  fpirlts, 
they  would  feed  on,  and  wafte  the  body ;   but 
this  aflertion   is  erroneous  ;    for  the  fpirits 
from  being  confined  are   dull,   and  flow  in 
motion  :  befides,  this  inconvenience  may  be 
remedied  by  coolers,  fleeped  in  oil  of  rofes 
and  myrtle  ;  but  calfia  and  heaters  muft  be 
Ihunned. 

The  linings  of  apparel  for  exhaufting  and 

drawing  the  body,  fhould  not  be  of  a  watery, 

G  g  2  but 


4:52        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH* 

but  oily  fubftance;  and  therefore  baize  and 
woollen  linings  are  better  than  linen :  and 
fweet  powders  fooner  lofe  their  fcent  among 
linen,  than  among  woollens ;  linen  being 
foft  and  clean,  but  not  fo  healthy  as  woollen. 
The  wild  Ir'ijh  beginning  to  grow  lick, 
take  out  the  fheets  of  their  beds,  and  after- 
wards wrap  themfelves  in  the  woollen  blan- 
kets. 

Carded  wool  worn  next  the  fkin,  iii 
breeches  and  doublets,  is  very  good. 

Accustomed  air  waftes  not  the  body  {o 
much  as  when  changed.  But  in  other  re- 
fpe6ls  change  of  air  is  good  to  enliven  and 
refrefh  the  fpirits.  So  much  for  keeping  out 
and  avoiding  the  praedatory  power  of  the 
air. 


Th^ 


History  of  life  and  death,     45^ 


The    operation  on  the   BL00D> 

AND 

COOLING     ITS     HEAT. 

'T^HE  two  operations  following  have  the 
fame  relation  to  the  former,  as  a£lives  to 
paffives,  which  endeavour  to  keep  the  fpirits 
and  air  from  w^afting  the  body;  as  thefe  {hew- 
how  to  make  the  blood,  moifture,  and  body 
lefs  fubjeft  to  depredation  and  wafting. 
Three  powerful  rules,  concerning  the  opera- 
tion on  the  blood,  fhall  be  firft  propounded. 

First,  blood,  being  cold,  is  lefs  diffipable. 
There  are  two  coolers  more  agreeable  to  the 
following  Intentions,  than  julips  or  potions. 

In  youth,  gliflers,  not  purgative  or  clean- 
fnig,  but  only  cooling  and  opening,  made 
of  the  juice  of  lettuce,  purflain,  liver-wort, 
fevergreen  or  houfe-leck,  flea-wort  {eed, 
with  a  temperate  opening  deco»5^ion,  mingled 
with  a  little  camphire :  but  in  age,  inftead 
of  houfe-leek  raid  purflain,  the  juice  of  bo- 
rage and  endive  may  be  ufcd ;  and  thefe  glif" 
ters  mufl  be  an  hour  or  more  retained. 

Gg^  Se. 


454        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATl-f. 

Secondly,  in  fummer  a  bath  may  be 
ipade  of  fweet  lukewarm  water,  and  new 
whey  and  rofes,  hiftead  of  mallows,  mercury, 
milk,   and  fuch  like  mollifiers  and  fofteners. 

The  third  rule  only  qualifies  the  fub- 
ftance  of  the  blood,  making  it  firmer  and  lefs 
fubje<St  to  diffipation,  or  to  the  working  heat 
of  the  fpirits. 

To  efFeCl  this,  drugs  of  wood  may  be 
fafely  and  eflfeclually  ufed  in  infufions  and 
deco£tions,  being  good  to  make  the  blood 
fine,  and  not  dangerous  for  breeding  of  ob- 
ftrudlions ;  and  their  infufions  taken  in  diet 
or  drink,  having  no  dregs,  eafily  pierce 
into  the  veins. 

Drugs  of  wood  are,  fanders,  the  oak,  and 
vine;  but  hot  woods,  having  in  them  any 
rofin  or  gum,  are  not  good :  but  dry  rofe- 
mary  flalks,  being  a  fhrub  as  long-lived  as 
many  trees,  and  fuch  a  quantity  of  ivy-flalks 
as  will  not  make  the  potion  unfavory,  may 
be  ufed. 

Drugs  of  wood  may  he  alfo  boiled  in 
broths,  infufed  into  ale  or  wine  before  they 
are  fettled  or  refined :  but  guiacum,  and  fuch 
drugs,  mufl  be  put  in  before  the  broths  are 
boiled,  that  thf  fubflance  of  the  firmer  parts 

of 


I^ISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        455 

pf  the  wood,  being  diflblved,  may  remain  in 
the  broth :  but  whether  afh  is  good  in  pon. 
tions  is  uncertain.  So  much  of  the  opera- 
tion on  the  blood. 


OPERATION  ON  MOISTURE  of  the  BODY. 

'  I  "WO   kinds   of  bodies,  formerly  menti- 
oned, are   not   eafily  confumed  :  hard 
bodies,  as  metals  and  ftones ;  fat,  as  oil  and. 
wax. 

Therefore  the  moifture  of  the  body 
rnuft  be  hardened,  and  made  fat  or  dewy. 

Moisture  is  hardened  by  firm  food;  by 
cold,  thickening  the  ftin  and  flefh  ;  and  by 
exercife,  comparing  the  juice,  that  it  may 
not  be  lb  ft  and  frothy,  x^nimal  and  farina- 
ceous fubflances  are  good  for  compading  the 
folids 

Pure  water,  mingled  with  wine  or  drink, 
hardens  the  moifture  of  the  body;  and  be-? 
caufe  the  fpirit  of  the  water  is  dull  and 
piercing,  nitre  may  be  mingled  with  it. 

G  g  4  Man„ 


45^       HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

Many  thick  clothes  on  the  bed,  or  back,, 
vyeaken  and  foften  the  body. 

Washing  the  body  m  cold  baths  leng- 
thens life ;  but  hot  baths  are  very  bad.  Bath  si 
of  bhidmg  rnineral  waters  were  formerly 
mentioned. 

By  an  eafy  idle  life,  without  exercife,  the 
flefh  is  made  difRpable  and  foft ;  but  by  fl:out 
exercifes,  ufed  without  excefliye  fweatingand 
wearinefs,  it  is  compared  and  hardened. 
Swimming  is  alfo  a  good  exercife,  and  gene- 
ally  all  exercifes  abroad  are  better  than 
within  the  houfe.  Frictions  fupply  the  want 
p£  exercife,  and  diftribute  nourifhment. 

To  make  hard  moiflure,  oily  and  dewy  is 
a  more  perfect  work  than  hardening,  being 
attended  with  no  inconvenience;  whereas 
hardeners  of  moifture,  by  fliaying  the  con- 
fumption,  further,  and  by  hindering  the 
reparation,  and  renewing  of  nourifhment, 
prevent  long  life  :  but  oil  and  juicy  nourifli- 
ment,  by  bedewing  the  body,  is  lefs  diffi- 
pable,  and  more  reparable. 
'  To  breed  this  ollinefs  in  the  body,  roafted 
or  baked  meat  is  better  than  boiled  or  ftewed, 
or  drefled  in  any  kind  with  water;  more  oil 
being  diftilled  and  extraded  out  of  dry  fubr 

Itancea 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.  457 

{lances  than  moid.  And  generally  all  fweet 
things  moillen  the  body  with  this  oilinefs, 
as  fugar,  honey,  fweet-almonds,  pine-apples, 
piftachio-nuts,  dates,  raifins,  and  figs:  but 
all  four,  fait,  fharp  meats,  breed  no  dewy 
oilinefs. 

Also  feeds,  nuts,  and  roots,  the  Maniches 
ufing  no  other  diet,  are  good  with  meat  and 
in  fauces;  for  all  kinds  of  bread,  being  the 
confirmer  of  meats,  is  made  of  feeds  or  roots. 
But  drink,  as  the  vehicle  carrying  down 
meat,  efpecially  moiflens  and  foftens  the 
body  :  therefore  drinks  not  fliarp  or  four,  but 
ripe  and  clear,  are  beft,  as  wine  being,  as  the 
old  woman  faid  in  Plautus,  "  toothlefs  with 
"  age:"  alfo  ftale  beer  and  ale,  not  fharp, 
but  ripe  and  pleafant. 

Metheglin,  flrong  and  old,  is  a  good 
drink ;  but  incorporated  with  fugar  inftead 
of  honey,  which  is  iharp,  would  be  better, 
efpecially  after  a  year,  or  fix  months  age ; 
the  rawnels  of  the  water  being  then  gone, 
and  tlie  fugar  grown  fubtle  and  fpirituous. 
But  old  wine  and  ftale  drink,  being  fubtle, 
and  full  of  oilinefs,  are  alfo  fpirituous  and 
iharp,  and  not  fo  good;  therefore  pork  or 
yenifon  w^ell  boiled,  being  laid  in  veflels  of 

wine. 


45^       HISTORY   OP  LIFE  AND   DEATH, 

wine,  ale,  or  beer,  the  fpirits  of  thefe  liquors 
feeding  thereon,  will  lofe  their  fharpnefs. 

Also  beer  or  ale,  with  bread  of  wheat, 
barley,  and  peafe;  potatoes,  bur  and  other 
fweet  roots,  to  the  quantity  of  a  third  part, 
is  better  to  prolong  life,  than  drink  made 
only  of  grain. 

Flowers  alfo,  being  not  fliarp  or  biting, 
are  good  fauces  and  fallads  for  meat,  as  ivy- 
flowers  with  vinegar,  marigold-leaves,  and 
betony- flowers  in  broths. 


To    PROMOTE    DIGESTION. 

TTOW  the  ftomach,  liver,  heart,  an4 
brain,  the  principal  parts  and  fountauis 
of  concoclion,  may  be  comforted,  and  made 
to  perform  their  offices,  by  imparting  nou? 
riihment  and  fpirits  to  the  feveral  parts,  and 
renewing  the  body,  phyflcal  rules  and  pre^ 
fcriptions  declare. 

The  fpleen,    gall,    reins,   midriff,    fmall 
cuts,  and  lights,  as  members  ferving  the  prin-r 

cipal 


HISTOPvY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATPr.        4^() 

clpal  parts,  are  here  to  be  conlidered,  becaufe 
their  dileafes  may  be  deriv^ed  to  the  principal 
parts ;  but  bv  good  digeflion,  and  the  fouhd- 
nefs  and  llrength  of  the  principal  parts,  life 
is  prolonged,  and  the  body  nourifhed  and 
kept  from  decaying  in  old  age. 

But  medicines  and  diets  agreeable  to  the 
ftate  of  bodies,  and  comfortable  to  the  four 
principal  parts,  are  prefcribed  in  phytic :  for 
medicines  cue  neceffary  to  recover  and  pre- 
ferve  health;  but  life  is  chiefly  lengthened 
by  a  good  phyfical  diet,  prefcribed  in  thefe 
choice  receipts  following. 

The  ilomach,  refembling  the  good  man 
of  the  houfe,  and  being  the  caufc  of  all  con- 
codion  and  digeftion,  muft  be  fortified  and 
jlirengthened,  by  being  kept  temperately 
warm,  retentive,  and  clean,  without  oppref- 
five  humours ;  not  empty  or  failing,  being 
nourifhed  by  itfelf  more  than  by  the  veins  ; 
and  laftly,  in  appetite,  whereby  digeftion  is 
iharpened. 

Warm  drinks  are  alfo  very  eood:  for  a 
famous  phyfician  would  ufually  at  dinner 
and  fupper,  eat  a  mefs  of  hot  broth  very  gree- 
dily, and  afterwards  wifJi  that  he  could  cafl 

it 


460        HISTORY    OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

it  Up  again,  faying,  that  he  needed  not  broth, 
but  the  warmth  of  it. 

At  fupper,  the  firfn  cup  of  wine,  beer, 
ale,  or  any  other  kind  of  drink,  muft  be 
always  warmed. 

Sops  of  bread  dipped  in  wine  wherein 
rofemary  and  citron  bark  have  been  infufed 
with  fugar,  are  better  in  the  middle  of  meals 
than  wine. 

Quinces  are  good  to  ftrengthen  the  fto- 
mach ;  but  fyrup  of  quinces  taken  alone 
after  meals,  and  with  vinesiar  before  meals, 
are  better  than  quinces,  which  are  too  heavy 
for  the  ftomach. 

Rosemary,  elecampane,  madich,  worm- 
wood, fage,  and  mint,  are  exceeding  good 
for  the  ftomach.  Pills  of  aloes,  maftich, 
and  faffron,  taken  in  winter  before  dinner, 
are  alfo  very  good ;  the  aloes  being  firft  wafh^ 
ed  in  rofe- water,  the  infufion  of  dragant 
in  vinegar,  and  then  diflblved  in  fweet  frefh 
oil  of  almonds. 

An  infufion  of  wormwood,  with  a  little 
elecampane  and  fanders,  may  be  fometimes 
'ufed  in  winter. 

In  fummer,  a  draught  of  white  wine  of 
the  infufion  of  powder  of  pearl,  and  powder 

of 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        4.6  t 

of  river  crawfifli  fhells,  and  a  little  chalk, 
Very  much  refrefhes  and  ftrengthens  the 
ftomach. 

But  all  cold  morning  draughts  commonly 
ufed,  as  fyrups,  decoctions,  whey,  beer,  or 
ale,  are  un^vholefome,  coolers  being  not  good 
for  an  empty  ftomach  ;  but  iive  hours  after 
dinner,  and  an  hour  after  a  light  breakfaft 
they  may  be  ufed. 

Fasting  often  is  bad  for  long  life;  and 
fo  is  ahb  all  kinds  of  thirft :  for  the  ilo- 
mach  muft  be  kept  clean,   but  always  moift. 

The  anointing  of  the  back-bone,  over 
againil  the  mouth  of  the  flomach,  with  good 
frefli  oil  of  olives,  in  a  folution  of  mithri- 
date,  is  very  comfortable  for  the  ftomach. 

A  bag  of  w*ool  fteeped  in  fliarp  wine, 
after  the  infufion  of  myrtle,  citron  bark,  and 
a  little  fatFron,  is  good  to  be  worn  always 
next  the  lliomach. 

The  liver  mufl:  be  kept  from  inflamma- 
tion, being  fubjedt  to  drynefs,  and  obilruc- 
tions  in  age. 

To  the  rules  laid  down,  delivered  in  the 
operation  of  blood,  thefe  choice  prefcrip- 
lions  may  be  added. 

POiME- 


462       HISTORY   OF   LIFE  AND  DEATH* 

Pomegranate-wine,  or  pomegjranafe* 
juice  newly  fqueezed  into  a  glafs,  may  be 
taken  in  the  morning  with  fome  fugar,  and 
•a  little  citron  bark,  and  three  or  four  whole 
cloves,   from  February  to  the  end  of  April. 

Aloes  wafned,  and  ally^/'x],  is  hurtful  to 
the  liver;  therefore  not  c- )m  nonly  to  be 
taken.  Rhubarb  diffolved  in  fweet  oil  of 
almonds,  and  vo;e -water,  are  good  for  the 
liver,  being  taken  before  meat,  becaufe  a 
dryer,  and  at  fevcral  times,  either  alone 
with  tartar,  or  a  little  bay-falt,  left  by  purg- 
ing away  the  thin  matter,  the  humours  fhould 
become  tous;her  and  harder. 

Take  the  dcco6lion  of  fleel  twice  or 
thrice  a  year  to  loofei:  obftru^tions  and  flop- 
pages  in  the  liver;  two  or  three  fpoonfuls 
of  oil  being  firfl:  taken,  and  the  body,  efpe- 
cially  the  arms  and  fore  part  of  the  ftomach, 
afterwards  ftirred  by  exercife. 

Sweet  drinks  keep  the  liver  from  grow- 
ing drv,  efpecially  incorporated  and  madf5 
of  fweet  fruits  and  roots,  as  raifins,  jujubs, 
dry  figs,  dates,  parfnips,  potatoes,  and  li- 
quorice. Alfo  drink  made  of  Indian  maize, 
and  other  fweet  compounds  is  very  good-. 
It  is  an  obfervation,  that  the  keeping  of  the 

liver 


HISTORY   OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH*  463 

liver  fat  and  foft  lengthens  life,  and  the 
opening  of  the  liver  procures  health,  in 
obftruclions  joined  with  inflammations  :  fo 
much  of  llrengthening  the  liver. 

A  good  air  is  better  known  by  experience 
than  figns.  The  befl:  air  is  on  a  level,  open 
plain, ,  the  foil  being  dry,  not  barren  and 
fandy,  but  naturally  bearing  wild  betony, 
featherfew,  and  wild  mints,  (haded  with  fome 
trees,  and  black-berry-buihes,  and  watered 
with  no  great  river,  but  with  clear  gravelly 
brooks.  The  morning  air  is  more  healthy 
than  the  evening  air,  which  is  accounted 
more  plealant. 

An  air  fomewhat  rough,  and  ftirred  with 
a  gentle  wind,  is  better  than  a  calm  clear 
air  ;  and  in  the  morning  the  wefl  wind  is 
befi:,  but  the  north  wind  in  the  afternoon. 
.  Sweet  odours  and  fmells  are  very  com- 
fortable to  the  heart,  yet  a  good  air  hath 
not  always  a  good  fmell  ;  for  as  peftilential 
airs  have  no  very  bad  fmell,  fo  oftentimes 
wholefome  airs  are  not  very  fwcet  and  frag- 
rant, but  the  odour  and  fcent  of  a  good  air 
fhould  be  interchangeably  taken,  for  one 
continual  excellent  odour  or  fcent  oppreiTes 
the  fpirits.     Nofegays  are  good  in  the  open 

air 


4^4      HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATlt. 

air,  but  growing  flowers  yeild  the  beft  odours 
and  fcents :  alfo  walking  and  fitting  in  fuch 
fweet  air  is  very  good. 

Cooling  fmells  are  better  for  the  heart 
than  hot  fcents ;  therefore  in  the  morning, 
and  at  noon,  the  fteam  of  perfumes  made 
of  vinegar,  rofe-water,  and  wine  put  into  a 
brafs-pan,  being  received  into  the  brain,  is 
Very  good.  Wine  poured  on  the  earth 
•when  digged,  yeilds  a  good  fcent  and  fmelL 
Alfo  orange-flour  water  mingled  with  rofe- 
water  and  brifk  wine,  being  fmelled  to,  or 
infufed  into  the  noftrils,  is  very  good. 

Small  pills  made  of  amber,  mufk.  Lignum 
Aloes,  Lignum  Rhodium,  flower  de  luce  roots, 
rofes,  rofe-w^ater,  and  Indian  balfam  being 
chewed,  and  held  in  the  mouth,  are  com- 
fortable for  the  heart  and  fpirits. 

Vapours  arifing  from  medicines  taken  in- 
wardly to  ilrengthen  and  cherllh  the  heart, 
mufl  be  wiiolelome,  clear,  and  cooling,  hot 
vapours  being  bad,  for  wine  yeilding  hot 
vapours,  is  like  poppy  in  quality. 

The  chlc;feft  cordials  ufed  in  diet  are  am- 
bergris, faffron,  kermes,  being  hot  and  dry; 
and  for  coolers  buglofs  and  borage- roots, 
lemons  and  apples. 

j  Observe 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND.  DEATH.         465 

Observe  alfo  that  great,  conilaiit  and 
lieroical  defires,  ftreiigthen  and  enlarge  the 
heart. 

Opium,  nitre,  and  other  inferior  drugs 
procurhig  fleep,  are  good  for  the  brain,  be- 
ing the  feat  and  refidence  of  the  animal  fpirits, 
and  protefted  or  annoyed  by  the  ftomach  : 
therefore  ftomach  cordials  arc  comfortable 
alfo  to  the  brain. 

Bathe  the  feet  every  week  in  a  bath  made 
of  lye,  bay-falt,  fage,  chamomile,  fennel, 
fweet  marjoram,  and  angelica  leaves. 

SuFFUMiGATioNS  alfo,  or  perfumes  of 
dry  rofemary,  dry  bay-leaves,  and  lignum 
aloes,  (for  fweet  gums  opprefs  the  head,)  are 
good  every  morning. 

No  hot  drugs  or  fpices,  except  nutmegs, 
may  be  outwardly  apphed,  to  the  head, 
but  to  the  foles  of  the  feet,  anointing  the 
head  Hghtly  with  oil,  rofe-water,  myrtle- 
water,  fait,  and  faffron  mingled  together,  is 
very  good. 

A  morning  potion  of  three  or  four  grains 
of  oil,  ofBezoars  ftone,  with  a  little  angelica 
feed  and  cinnamon,  once  in  fourteen  days, 
being    taken    in    the    morning   jflrengthens 

Vol.  II.  H  h  the 


466        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

the  brain,   and  thickens    and  quickens  the 
fpirits. 

All  thefe  cordials  taken  in  diet  com- 
fort the  brain  ;  variety  of  medicines  being 
the  daughter  of  ignorance ;  many  difhes 
breeding  many  difeafes,  and  many  medicines 
effe6ling  few  cures.  And  fo  much  of  the 
operation  on  the  principal  parts  for  extru- 
fion  and  driving  out  of  nouriihment. 


To  PREPARE  THE  OUTWARD  PARTS 

FOR 

ATTRACTING  NOURISHMENTS. 

/^^  GOD  digeftion  of  the  inward  parts,  be- 
ing the  chief  caufe  of  good  nouriihment, 
the  outward  parts  muft  alfo  perform  their 
offices  and  duties,  by  attrading  the  nourifli- 
inent  from  digeflion. 

The  outward    parts   by  bodily  exercife 
comfort edand  warmed,    chearfuUy   attrad 

nourifhment. 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  TEATH.        467 

nourlfhment.  The  exercifes  attra6tlng  new 
moiflure  to  the  limbs,  being  violent,  loofea 
them,  and  confume  the  old  moifture. 

Exercise,  by  chafing  the  limbs,  is  alfo 
very  good  when  moderate,  for  the  body 
muft  not  refpire,  nor  fweat  too  much  by 
rubbing  or  exercife.  Therefore  it  is  better 
abroad  than  in  the  houfe,  and  in  winter  than 
in  fummer. 

Exercise  on  a  fafting  ftomach  by  fweat- 
ing,  wafte  the  fpirits  and  moifture  of  the 
body,  and  being  unhealthful  on  a  full 
flomach,  is  beft  after  a  light  breakfaft,  not 
of  phyfical  morning  potions,  or  raiiins  or 
figs,  but  plain  meat  and  drink  moderately 
taken. 

Exercise  muft  flir  all  the  body,  not  the 
knees  or  arms  only,  but  generally  all  the 
limbs  of  the  body,  and  the  pofture  fhould 
be  every  hour  changed,  except  in  fleeping. 


H  h  2  FOOD 


46S         HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 


FOOD    AND    DIET. 


PHILOSOPHERS  might  better  than  phy- 
ficians  follow  common  opinion,  in  con- 
demning many  fcrvices  and  mefles  of  meat, 
as  not  lengthening  life,  but  preferving 
health;  for  a  heterogeneous  mixture  of 
meats,  more  readily  nourifhes  the  veins, 
breeding  better  moifture  than  one  kind  of 
meat :  moreover,  variety  excites  the  appe- 
tite, and  the  appetite  fliarpens  digeftion. 
So  that  a  various  kind  of  diet  according  to 
the  feafons  of  the  year,  is  approved. 

Good  fauces  are  wholefome  preparatives 
to  meat,  preferving  health,  and  prolonging 
life. 

Course  fare  requires  flrong  drink  and 
piercing  fauces  that  may  fink  into  the  meat ; 
but  with  fine  fare,  fmall  drink  is  beft,  and 
fat  fauces. 

Boiled  meat  dreffed  with  moift  cooling 
fauces,  does  not  moiften  the  body,  though 
good  in  hot  fickneifes,  but  affording  no  oily 

nourifhment ; 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH,         469 

nourifhment ;  boiled  meats  being  not  fo  good 
as  roafted  or  baked  with  a  quick  fire. 

Solid  meats  fo  corned  with  fait,  that  lit- 
tle or  no  fait  need  be  eaten  therewith  at  the 
table,  is  good,  fait  meat  being  better  for  di- 
geftion,  than  fait  eaten  with  meat. 

Bread  well  leavened,  but  lightly  falted 
in  a  very  hot  oven,  is  beft. 

Meat  and  drink  diffolved  and  mingled 
together,  is  eafy  of  digeftion.  Therefore 
chickens,  partridges,  or  phealants,  firft  par- 
boiled with  water  and  fait,  then  wiped, 
dried  and  boiled  to  a  jelly,  in  wine  or  ale 
with  fome  fugar,  makes  a  flrong  comfortable 
broth. 

To  exceed  fometimes  in  the  quantity  of 
meat  and  drink,  and  to  water  the  body  by 
great  feafls  and  liberal  drinking,  is  fometimes 
good. 


H  h  3  The 


47^        HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AMD  DEATH. 

The  operation  on   the 
'  LAST  ACT  OF  ASSIMILATION. 

'T^HE  nature  of  the  lafl:  a£l  of  affimilation 
or  converting  into  the  like  fubftancc, 
being  the  intended  efFe<5t  of  the  three  former 
operations,  may  be  opened  and  declared 
without  rules. 

All  bodie.s  defire  to  affimilate  and 
convert  fubflances  into  their  own  kind. 
Flame,  fpirit,  and  air,  being  thin  and  fpiri- 
tuous,  do  courageoufly  perform  this  work, 
but  thick  and  grofs  fubftances  very  weakly; 
this  delire  of  aiiimilating  being  reftrained  by 
a  ftronger  defire  of  reft  and  eafe. 

For  this  defire  of  aflimilating,  reftrained 
in  the  body,  is  ineffedual  until  it  be  by  heat 
and  fpirit  freed,  excited  and  actuated  ;  and 
therefore  lifelefs  bodies  do  not  affimilate, 
and  living  creatures  ailimllate,  digeft,  and 
convert  into  their    own    fubftance. 

More  heat  is  required  to  make  hard  bodies 
affimilate  and  digeft,  therefore  the  parts  of 
the  body  grown  hard  with  age,  muft  be 

foftened 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        47 1 

foftenecl;  and  heat,  then  weak  encreafed,  for 
helpmg  digeftlon. 

For  increafnig  heat  take  this  rule  or 
axiom. 

The  a£t  of  affimilatlon  incited  and  pro* 
voked  by  heat,  a  very  accurate  fubtile  mo- 
tion, and  moil:  powerful,  when  bodily  mo- 
tion, the  difturber  thereof,  ceafes.  For  a 
fubflance  of  one  kind  will  not  feparate  into 
parts  of  divers  kinds,  being  moved  ;  as  curd 
will  not  rife,  nor  the  whey  {ink  down,  the 
milk  being  gently  ftired.  Alfo  running 
water,  nor  any  water  or  liquor  will  not 
putrefy,  being  continually  moved  and  fhak- 
ed.  Therefore  by  this  reafon  this  conclu- 
sion is  inferred. 

Assimilation  is  performed  and  perfected 
chiefly  in  fleep  and  reft,  efpecially  towards 
morning,  after  good  digeftion. 


On  making  the  BODY  TENDER  and 
YOUNG. 

BATHS  and   oils  foften  lifelefs    bodies, 
attracting    and   fucking  In    liquors, 
but  not  living  bodies.      Therefore  common 
H  h  4.  molli- 


472  HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

mollifying,  foftening  baths,  rather  draw  than 
foften,  and  Iqofen  rather  than  harden  the 
body. 

Baths  may  be  made  of  nourifhing  fubflan- 
ces,  like  man's  body,  as  the  fat  of  beef, 
hogs  and  deer,  oyfters,  milk,  butter,  whites 
of  eggs,  wheat-flour,  fweet-wine,  fugar  and 
metheglin. 

With  thefe  ingredients,  bay  fait  and  old 
wine  may  be  mingled,  to  make  them  pene- 
trate and  pierce  into  the  body. 

Binding  ingredients  being  oily  and  com- 
fortable, faffron,  maftick,  myrrh,  and 
myrtle-berries  make  an  excellent  bath. 

For  the  powerful  working  of  this  bath, 
four  rules  are  obfervable. 

First  before  bathing,  rub  and  anoint  the 
body  with  oil  and  falves,  that  the  baths 
moiflening  heat  and  virtue,  may  penetrate  in- 
to the  body,  and  not  the  watery  part ;  then 
fit  two  hours  in  the  bath  ;  after  bathing 
wrap  the  body  in  a  fear  cloth  made  of 
maftick,  myrrh,  pomander,  and  faffron,  for 
ftaying  the  perfpiration  or  breathing  of  the 
pores,  until  the  foftening  of  the  body  hav- 
ing lain  thus  in  fear-cloth  twenty-four 
hours,   be  grown  folid  and  hard.     Laftly, 

with 


HISTORY  OF   LIFE  AND  DEATH.        473 

with  anointment  of  oil,  fait  and  fafFron, 
the  fear- cloth  being  taken  t.lt,  anoint  the 
body. 

In  bathing,  a  good  diet  muft  be  kept,  and 
warmth  and  warm  drinks  ufed. 


On  RENE  WING  THE  MOISTURE 
OF    THE     BOD  Y. 

Tj^OR  thispurpofe  diets  of  guiacum,  farfa- 
parella,  china-root,  and  faffafras,  being 
long  fl:ri6tly  kept,  do  firft  attenuate  or  make 
thin,  then  confume  or  devour  all  the  moif- 
tureofthe  body;  for  the  French  pox  be- 
ing grown  to  gumminefs,  and  being  got 
into  the  marrow  and  moifture  of  the  body, 
has  been  thereby  cured.  Some  alfo  by 
fuch  diets  being  made  lean  and  pale,  have 
afterwards  grown  fat  and  frefh-coloured. 
Therefore  in  the  declining  of  age,  fuch 
diets  are  good  to  be  kept  once  in  two  years, 
thereby  to  grow  young  again,  as  the  fnake 
does  by  cafling  his  fkin. 

It  is  my  opinion,  though  I  am  no  hereti- 
cal puritan,  that  purgations  often  and  fami- 
liarly 


474        HISTORY  OF   LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

liarly  ufed,  lengthen  life  more  than  exer- 
cife  or  fweating.  For  as  anointing  the 
body,  flopping  the  pores,  keeping  out  the 
air,  and  keeping  in  the  fpirits,  lengthens 
life ;  fo  by  fweatings  and  outward  brea- 
things, the  good  fpirits  and  moifture  be- 
ing not  eafily  repaired,  are  exhaled  and  con- 
fumed  with  the  excrementitious  humours 
and  vapours.  But  gentle  purgatives  not 
griping  the  belly,  being  taken  before  meat 
to  prevent  their  drying  quahty,  woik  chiefly 
on  the  humours. 


CAUSES  a::d  symptoms  of  DEATH. 

'T^HE  living ipirit  fubfiits  by  due  motion, 
temperate,  cooling  and  fit  nourishment. 
A  flame  needs  only  motion  and  nourifhment, 
being  a  fimple  fubftance  ;  the  fpirit,  a  com- 
pounded fubftance,  deftroyed  by  approach- 
ing nearer  to  the  nature  of  flame. 

Blood  or  phlegm  getting  into  the  ventri- 
cles of  the  brain,  caufes  fudden  death,  the 
fpirit  hciving  no  place  of  refidence  or  motion. 

Also 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.        475 

Also  violent  fra(flures  and  beating  of  the 
head  caufe  fudden  death,  by  ftraitening 
the  Ipirits  in  the  ventricles    of  the    brain. 

Opium  and  other  ftrong  drugs,  procuring 
infenfibiiit,  do  by  thickening  the  fpirits, 
deprive  them  of  motion. 

Venomous  vapours  being  hateful  to  the 
fpirits  are  deadly  poifons,  by  whofe  malig- 
nant quality  the  fpirits  are  opprelTed,  depriv- 
ed of  their  motion,  and  made  unable  to  re- 
fift  fo  flrong  an  enemy. 

Extreme  drunkennefs  and  gluttony  have 
caufed  fudden  death,  the  fpirits  being  op- 
prefTed,  not  w^ith  malignant  vapours,  but  by 
redundance  of  vapours. 

With  the  fudden  apprehenfion  of  grief 
and  fear,  conceived  at  the  relation  of  unex- 
peded  bad  tidings,  fome  have  died  fuddenly. 

The  exceffive  compreffion,  and  enlarging 
of  the  fpirits,  are  both  deadly. 

Great  and  fudden  joys  have  deprived 
many  of  their  life. 

Also  great  evacuations  of  water,  by  inci- 
fions  for  the  dropfy  ;  or  violent  and  fudden 
fluxes  of  blood,  are  deadly. 

Stopping  the  breath,  is,  through  defed  of 
cooling,  deadly,  by  choaking  and  ftrangling, 

the 


4/6       HISTORY  OF  LIFE   AND  DEATH. 

the  motions  of  the  fpirlts  being  not  hindered, 
but  cooling  defeaive;  for  exceirive  hot  air 
drawn  in  for  breath,  choaks  as  foon  as 
flopping  of  the  breath.  As  by  burning 
charcoal,  or  by  the  fmcll  of  new  whited 
walls  in  a  clofe  chamber,  Jupman  and  others 
have  been  choaked.  Fnufa  the  wife  of  C^;?- 
JlaJit'me  the  great,  was  rtranghd  by  the  ftcam 
of  an  exceeding  hot  bath. 

For  breath  is  drawn  in  by  the  lungs,  and 
breathed  forth  again  every  third  part  of  a 
minute. 

The  beating  of  the  pulfe,  and  of  tlic 
heart,  both  by  the  fyftole,  or  backward  mo- 
tion, or  diaflole  or  forward  motion,  is  thrice 
as  fwift  as  breathing;  for  the  beating  of  the 
heart,  being  ftaid  would  caufe  death  fooner 
than   ftranghng. 

Delian  divers,  and  pearl  fifhcrs,  through 
continual  ufc  will  hold  their  brcatli  ten  tin^ea 
longer  than  another. 

l.iviNG  creatures  having  lungs,  hold  their 
breath  a  (horter  or  longer  time,  as  they  need 
more  or  lefs  cooling. 

Fishes  need  Ids  cooling  than  other  crea- 
tures, cooling  and  breathing  themfelves  at 
their  gills.     And  as  other  creatures  cannot 

endure 


HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.  477 

endure  a  hot  clofe  air;  fo  fifli  in  water 
quite  frozen  over,  and  long  covered  with 
ice,  are  choaked  and  ftrangled. 

The  natural  heat  of  the  fpirits  is  oppreff- 
ed  by  another  more  violent  heat,  being  ini- 
able  to  endure  them  both  without  cooling, 
as  mav  be  ken  in  burning  fevers,  natural 
heat  being  extinguiflied  anddiffipated  by  hot 
putrificd  humours. 

Want  of  lleep  is  a  want  of  cooling.  For 
motion  rarifies,  makes  thin,  Sharpens  and 
encreafes  the  heat  of  the  fpirits.  But  by 
fleep  their  motion  is  allayed,  and  their  wan- 
dering redrained.  For  fleep  ftrengthens 
and  excites  the  working  of  the  inward  parts 
and  fpirits,  and  all  outward  motion,  but 
makes  the  living  fpirit  reft  from  motion; 
every  24  hours  nature  requires  5  or  6  hours 
fleep.  Though  fome  have  miraculoufly  re- 
frained from  fleep,  for  Meaemis  flept  not  a 
great  while  before  he  died. 

Dead  bodies  kept  from  putrefa6lion,  will 
not  decay  for  a  long  time ;  but  living  bodies 
cannot  fubfift  above  three  days,  this  fpeedy 
confumption,  being  the  work  of  the  living 
fpirit,  repairing  itfelf,  or  making  the  parts 
need  repairing  ;  and  therefore  living  crea-' 
I  tures 


47iJ        HISTORY  OF    LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

tures  by  fleq)ing  endure  longer  without 
food,  flccp  being  the  reception  and  colledion 
of  the  living  fpirit. 

The  ordinary  ncccflltics  of  nature  are 
thcfc,  continual  motion  of  the  fpirits  in  the 
ventricles  of  the  brain,  beating  of  the  heart 
every  third  part  of  a  moment,  breathing 
every  moment,  flcep  and  food  within  three 
days,  the  decay  after  fourfcore  years  of  age 
of  the  faculties  of  digc  ftion  ;  thcfc  dcfe<fts 
being  not  feafonably  fupplied,  death  will 
enfue.  So  that  death  has  three  d(X)rs,  the 
fpirits  failing  in  motion,  cooling,  and 
nourifhing. 

The  living  fpirit  is  not  like  a  flame,  con- 
tinually lighted  and  extinguifhcd,  without 
certain  duration  and  continuance.  Thcrc- 
ft)re  the  living  fpirit  is  of  a  middle  nature  be- 
tween flame,  being  a  momentary  fubftancc, 
and  air  being  a  fixed  fubl>ance. 

THEdcflruclionof  the  organs  of  the  fpirits 
either  by  dlfeafes  or  violence,  is  anotlier 
door  of  death  ;  and  fo  much  of  the  form  ot 
death. 

Convulsions  of  the  head  and  face,  with 
deep  deadly  fighing,  being  a  kindof  convul- 
fion,    and  the  extreme  quick  beating  of  the 

pulfc, 


HISTORY  OF   LIFE    AND  DEATH.  4;'9 

pulfe,  the  luart  trembling  with  the  pangs 
ot  death ;  and  Ibmetimes  agaui  beating 
weakly  and  llowly  as  the  heat  begins  to  fail 
and  taint,  are  two  chief  figns  of  death. 

The  immediate  figns  of  death  are  great 
unquietnc fs,  tumbling  and  ftriving,  raking 
with  the  hands,  as  if  gathering  locks  of 
wool,  driving  to  take  hold,  and  holding  fafl^, 
hard  (hutting  of  the  teeth,  rattling  in  the 
throatjtrembling  of  the  under-lip,  pale  coun- 
tenance, confufed  mcniory,  fpeechleflncfs, 
cold  fweats,  ftretchingout  the  body,  lifting 
up  the  white  of  the  eyes,  and  an  alteration 
of  the  whole  face,  (the  nofe  becoming  Iharp, 
the  eyes  hollow,  and  the  checks  falling) 
with  the  contracllon  and  convullion  of  the 
tongue,  coldnefs  of  the  lower  parts,  and 
fometimes  iirulng  of  blood,  or  feed,  loud 
fhrlcking,  (hort  breathing,  the  falling  of  tlie 
lower  jaws,  and  the  like. 

To  raife  and  recover  to  life  fuch  as  fiiint 
and  fall  into  a  fwoon  (in  which  fits  many 
without  help  would  expire)  iifc  hot  waters, 
bend  the  body  forwards,  ftop  the  mouth  and 
noftrils  hard,  bend  and  wring  the  fingers, 
pluck  off  hair  from  the  beard  or  head,  rub 
and  chafe  the  body,  efpecially  the  face  and 

outward 


480  HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

outward  pints,  cafl  cold  water  fuddenly  in 
the  face,  fhriek  out  aloud,  hold  rofe-water 
and  vinegar  to  the  noftrils  :  hurning 
feathers  and  woollen  cloth  for  the  hyfterlcs, 
alfo  the  fmoak  of  a  hot  frying  pan  is  good  in 
fwooning,  and  keeping  the  hody  clofe  and 
warm. 

That  many  laid  forth,  coffined  and  hiiri- 
cd,  were  only  in  a  Iwoon,  has  been  dilco- 
vered  by  digging  them  up  again,  and  finding 
their  heads  beaten  and  bruifed  with  flrlving 
in  the  coffin.  Of  fuch  a  livuig  funeral, 
John  Scoius,  that  fubtile  fcholar  was  a  me- 
morable example,  who  by  his  fervant 
(abfeiit  at  his  burial,  but  acquainted  with 
thofe  fits  wherein  he  falling,  was  fuppofcd 
to  be  dead,  and  fo  buried,)  being  digged 
up  again,  was  found  in  that  manner, 
with  his  head  and  other  limbs  beaten  and 
bruifed. 


FINIS.