A DISCOURSE OF WIT.  
BY David Abercromby, M. D.  Qui velit ingenio cedere rarus erit. 
LONDON, Printed for John Weld at the Crown between the two Temple Gates in Fleetstreet, 1686.   

TO ALEXANDER MURRAY OF Blackbarronie, Esq  
SIR,  
I Here offer you not a Transcript, nor Translation, but my own free, and perhaps, not quite ungrounded Thoughts on several Subjects; though I pretend not to impose on any Man's Understanding, my own irregular Fancies, as inclining more▪ to Scepticisim in disputable matters, than to that Bold, and Magisterial air of Dogmatical Philosophers. My chief Design then in writing and publishing this present Treatise, was to furnish the Virtuosos with matters fit for ingenious Conversations: Which perhaps I have performed in some measure, because of the great, and not unpleasant Variety of things it contains. I speak every where my mind with a Philosophical freedom, neither blaming other men's Fancies, nor presuming too much upon my own Conceits. And if I seem to be somewhat Paradoxical on several occasions, 'tis more in appearance perhaps, than in realty: for these seeming Paradoxes, if not overlooked, may appear to an unprejudiced▪ Reader undeniable Truths, or at least (which is my utmost aim) not to be altogether improbable. Of such things 'tis free to every one to dispute Pro and Con, as it serves his turn, or present Fancy. Wherein I could never conceive any thing of a pedantic Humour, but a very Lawful, and Laudable Exercise of Wit and Ability: which I designedly add, because some, I know, are of Opinion, that all kind of Learning and Ingenuity should be banished from a free and familiar Converse: But I conceive such Men to be either of the dullest sort, or Epicureo de grege Porcos, mere Epicureans, as taking delight in nothing, but what may please their Senses, or revive the Images of their past Pleasures. Thus some homebred Gentlemen make a long Story to every one they meet, of what they daily either eat or drink. Others talk perpetually of their Amours, Mistresses, and new Intrigues, and not a few abuse your Patience with severe Reflections on their Neighbours.  
But since you are not guilty of such Irregularities, I had, no doubt, some other reason, than your Instruction, to prefix your Name before these Papers. I shall then perhaps, offend your Modesty, but not the Truth, if I say it was chief the great share you have in the Subject they treat of. 'Tis true, the Ancient and present State of your Noble Family, and other advantages of that kind might have engaged me to make you this Present, had I been of an Humour to value Men only by their out side, I mean, by what is without them, and not rather by their real Parts, and if I may so say, intrinsical Nobility. I owe indeed an outward Respect to a Person of Quality, yet I shall pay him no inward Homage, if nothing else recommend him, but the Greatness of his Family; whence you may easily judge, that, how considerable soever you may be in the Eyes of the World on other accounts, I do value you most for what is really your own, I mean your Ingenuity, Discretion, Wisdom; yea, and Virtue too, so seldom to be met with in this corrupted Age we live in. As these Endowments of the Mind are far more taking with me than any other advantages of Fortune whatsoever, so they were my chief Inducements to let you know by this inconsiderable Present, that I am in Realty, and without Flattery, which I hate,  
SIR, Your very affectionate Friend and Servant David Abercromby.   

ERRATA.  
PAge 5. l. 24. Read, and the Grecians. p. 7. l. 3. in a higher degree, add, than others. l. ib. as salt, R. a salt. p. 9 l. 7. R. ingenuously. p. 25. l. 8. not without. p. 28. l. 12. infused R. misused. p. 30. l 15. R. Springs. p ib. l. 17. R. or change p. 35. l. 7. and the former, etc. add is free. p. 36. l. 13. R. of most knowable things. p. 16. l. 19 R. less. p. 39 l. 23. heightness R. lightness, p 45. l. 6. R. the harshest. p. ib. l. 15. R. affectations. p. ib. last l. R. if dissemblingly you admire them. p. 57 l. 15. R. but not any innate indisposition to, etc. p. 61. l. 12. R. had for have p. 69. l. 23. R. may discover Jovis, etc. p. 71. l. 15. R. respect. p. 88 l. 28. influences R. inferences p. 97. l. 18. R. Gordian knot. p. 231. l. 10. R. Rugens quaerens quem devoret. p. 133. l. 5. R. certainty. p. 135. l. 24. R. ingenuously. p 139. l. 12. R. true Gold without a. p. 176. l. 10. R. quicken into Life without them. p. 180. l. 5. leave out may before Authors, and put it in immediately before have.   

SECTION I. What is meant by that which Men usually call Wit?  
1. That the things we are most acquainted with, we least understand.  
2. How few are the true Notions we have of the most obvious things.  
3. Several specious definitions of Wit.  
4. It's best and most accurate description.  
5. That Beasts are not to he denied all sort of Wit and Reason.  
'tIs seemingly improbable, yet very true, that the things we are most acquainted with, we least know. Thus Light, than which, nothing in the whole Creation is more conspicuous, is as impenetrable to the dim Eyes of our Understanding, as 'tis visible and obvious to those of our Bodies. Thus Time so generally known and discoursed of, is as obscure unto me, if not more, than Eternity itself. What more visible than Colours? Since we see nothing else; yet if I consult for resolution's sake, Philosophers, I shall make no more of their most satisfactory Answers, than that they are, (at least to my weak understanding) mere occult qualities, un je ne scay quoy, or I know not what. So far these Great Men, though deservedly reputed not ordinary Wits, fall nevertheless short, of the true Orgine, and Mechanism of the most known and visible Objects. The Wind I feel, and am extremely sensible of, especially when boisterous, and blows hard; what it is, whence it comes, why it is so changeable; and yet in some parts of the World so constant, why it moves sidewise and Horizontally (as they speak) and not Perpendicularly, or from the Circumference to the Centre on a straight Line, I never yet could reach, and thought always the Laudable Endeavours of such as have undertaken to give us an account of those hidden, though most visible Phinomena's, altogether unsuccessful.  
2. What I have said of Light, Time, Colours, etc. and whatever we are most conversant with in the Works of the Creation, I shall with a no less appearance of Reason, apply to our present Subject: For what the Latins call, Ingenium the French, L'esprit, the English, Wit, is a thing so generally known, that there are few but pretend to be acquainted with it, and not to want it, or not to have received as great a measure of it, as the very wittiest sort can pretend to; for nothing more true than this common Word, Qui velit ingenio cedere rarus erit. Yet even those, on whom Nature has bestowed it most Liberally, are put to a stand, and know not what to answer, if you press them to determine what in realty it is. But pretending sometimes to know more than really they do, and being resolved to say any thing rather than nothing, they will endeavour to put you off with great and empty Words, Splendid Descriptions, Tedious Tautologies, affected Metaphors, and whatever may seem a sufficient Veil to their Ignorance. What is it then we commonly call Wit? I confess, I never either read or heard any thing on this Subject, that looks like a satisfactory Resolution of this Question: And perhaps what I shall set down here, will prove far short of the thing I aim at. For I am of Opinion, we do so little understand the Nature of things, that we cannot confidently boast yet of any true Notion, or Definition. Yea, I hold that this very Definition of Man, Homo est Animal rationale, so familiar in the Schools, is near as imperfect as this, Homo est Anima rationalis, Man is a rational Soul. My Reason for this assertion, is because the latter Proposition presents to my Understanding nothing but what is in some Sense true, though not all the Truth: For a man indeed is a rational Soul, tho' something else. The former, besides its obscurity, gives me just grounds to suspect its containing more than the Truth; I mean, that this rational Soul, which in the Second Proposition, I conceive, in a manner free from matter, is really material, as depending on an Organical Body, as to its first being, conservation, and functions. For if you take asunder this Notion, and consider it in every respect, you shall find that this reasoning faculty, supposed to be in man, is never exerted without the concurrence of the matter, or of some material Phantasm. The contrary whereof is a prerogative granted only to those perfect Spirits, the ancient Philosophers called Daemons, and by the Grecians Angels, who by the privilege of their most refined Nature, are happily freed from that gross and massy substance, which our Souls, how Spiritual soever they be, are clogged with, in this Mortal Life.  
3. I cannot then pretend to give you a true and genuine Notion of Wit, but an imperfect, and rude inchoate description thereof, yet so general and comprehensive, that it contains all such Creatures, as without any violence done to the Word, we may truly call Witty. Yet shall I not say with a great Man of this Age, that Wit is, un je ne scay quoy, I know not what: For this would be to say nothing at all, and an easy answer to all difficulties, and no solution to any. Neither shall I call it a certain Liveliness, or Vivacity of the Mind inbred, or radicated in its Nature, which the Latins seem to insinuate by the word Ingenium; nor the subtlest operation of the Soul above the reach of mere matter, which perhaps is meant by the French, who concieve Wit to be a Spiritual thing, or a Spirit L' esprit. Nor with others, that 'tis a certain acuteness of Understanding, some men possess in a higher degree, the Life of discourse, as Salt, without which nothing is relished, a Celestial Fire, a Spiritual Light, and what not. Such and the like Expressions contain more of Pomp than of Truth, and are fit to make us talkative on this Subject, than to enlighten our Understandings. But what then is Wit? To hold you no longer in suspense, Wit is either a senceful discourse, word, or Sentence, or a skilful Action. This Notion, though short, being as you see, disjunctive, is upon this account the more comprehensive: Where ever then you shall meet with Sense in discourse, etc. Dexterity and Skill in Actions, there, and no where else you shall meet with Wit. As this is so clear, that it needs no more proof than the Sun needs Light, so I leave it untouched, and to your own Meditation, as a self-evident Principle, I shall only say, that Sense is so necessary for meriting the Honourable Name of a Virtuoso, and a true Wit; that Men without this advantage are deservedly not only reputed not Witty, but mere Fools, and senseless: Yet do I not mean that every kind of Sense in our discourse, allows our Discourse to be styled Witty else the number of Wits would be fargreater than we are commonly ware of: Yet certain it is, there are but few true Wits, in comparison of those that have Sense enough, not to be mere Fools. We speak then here not of Sense only, but of Sencefulness, neither of a dead, and down right flat Sense, for nothing more common, but rather of a Lively one, as being animated by a certain Tour not usual to the duller sort. This sort of Sense is not unlike to a bright and polished Diamond, the other may be represented to us by a Brute, and unpolished one: They are both of the same Substance, not of the same Value, both of the same matter, not of the same form, I mean of the same Light, Splendour and Brightness.  
4. As to the other part of this Description, wherein I mention a dexterous or skilful Action as a piece of Wit, I confess ingeniously, I designed by this Addition to declare, that I am not so great an Admirer of mankind, as to think that no other material Substance, but that which is congenial to myself, may be, and deservedly too, called Witty. Philosophers may pretend what they please, unless they prove themselves Semideos, to be more than Men, they shall never convince me that they are otherwise differenced than in Speech and Figure, from those living Creatures, we call commonly Beasts; and which I have always conceived to be in reality, Animalia rationalia, rational Catures, but of a lower Rank, and less perfect than Men. Neither shall any Man laugh me out of this Philosophy with their innate instinct, which in the judgement of common understanding, is their first inward Mover, and the sole principal of all their Actions. For unless you understand by this Instinct, God himself, which would be no less surprising, than Deus e Machina, and besides no satisfactory answer, you will I hope confess 'tis nothing else but an obscure and insignificant Word, invented only to heighten that too vain conceit we have of our own nature, by depressing that of other inferior Creatures. For Men considering the wonderful, and most skilful, and inimitable Actions of Apes, Elephants, Swallows, Bees, Dogs, etc. were loath to allow them to be endowed with some kind of Reason, as if they should thereby range themselves among the Beasts. Yet being forced to give some account of these undoubted pieces of Wit we daily observe in that lower sort of living Creatures, they called subtly their most ingenious Actions, the Products not of Reason, but of Instinct; whereby, if they understood nothing else, but an inferior sort of Reason, and in some particulars far below that of the more perfect and rational Creatures, they were only guilty of a wilful and affected obscurity: But if they intended by this harsh Word an entire exclusion of all true reasoning, they pretend more, than ever they did or could well prove, as I could easily demonstrate, if it had not been done by others. They were in vain afraid already that if they granted once the use of Reason to other Inferior Creatures, they should not be sufficiently distinguished themselves, and far enough removed from their Condition, as if besides Shape and Speech, the different degrees of Reason could not make a separation wide enough between Men and Beasts: For though 'tis most true, that, Simia quicquid agate, simia erit, a Beast at the best will always be but a Beast: Yet I never understood why we should deny some share both of Reason and Wit to several of those inferior Creatures, that do things we can neither imitate, nor account for, without granting them, in some measure, this reasoning faculty, we would feign Monopolise to ourselves. I would not then style him an Extravagant, who should conceive as much Reason and Wit in an Ape, a Dog, Fox and Elephant, as in some Men, though not mere Fools. However no man can deny, what chief I here aim at, that Wit is not the Prerogative of Mankind alone. A Spider's Web in my conceit, is no less, if not more ingeniously contrived, than the Weaver's. I conceive in a Honey Comb, with Pleasure and Admiration, a very accurate, and regular piece of Fortification; the wonderful Texture and groundless Foundation of a Swallows Nest, do represent to me more art, than ever I could be yet sensible of in the structure of the greatest Louvers.   

SECTION II. The Causes of Wit.  
1. Two different Opinions concerning the diversity of Wit in Men.  
2. That it is not occasioned by the respectively greater perfection of the Organs.  
3. That one Soul is really perfecter than another.  
4. Some curious enquiries relating to this proposition answered.  
5. What things may contribute towards the promoting of Wit.  
6. That we cannot improve our Wit beyond the innate perfection of our Souls.  
1. WE are taught in the Schools, that all diversity of Wit in Men, does originally spring from that of their Organs. I sucked in this Doctrine in my greener years, and believed it a while, as many others of greater moment, which I have bid a farewell to since, in a riper Age: For being naturally curious, and not very credulous, I began to shake off by degrees, a certain implicate Faith, I had been for several years too much enslaved to; having more than once in my ordinary solitude, and retired thoughts, Neque enim cum me aut porticus accepit, aut lectulus desum mihi, called myself to an account upon what grounds I had so long stood up for such a vulgar Error, I found them all to be movable, unstable, and groundless; and first I thought I was neither conformable to reason, nor common Sense, to think that a Soul free from matter and Mortality, as I conceived mine to be, should entirely depend upon a Body, both material and Mortal, especially as to its Chief, and most perfect Operarions, as undoubtedly those of the Wit are. I had another more powerful Inducement not to shake hands with this Opinion, and bid it adieu, which was that I remembered to have been familiarly acquainted with several, both at home and abroad, who had no visible defect in the Organs of their Bodies, and yet were most deficient, as to the endowments of the Mind. And on the contrary, I have known not a few, who, if you regard only their outside, may look upon Nature as a cruel Stepmother, as having received from her no sensible marks of a Motherly Benevolence; yet if taing them by another Bias, you consider their Abilities, you shall, I am persuaded, instantly confess, that they are more obliged to Nature, or God rather, than most of those who have received in a larger measure, those exterior Ornaments and Gifts of Beauty. For why may we not reckon the sharpness of their Wit, and other advantages of their Souls to be more a sufficient Compensation for some outward Imperfections of their Bodies. Thus it happens sometimes, that Blind Men are clearer sighted than many of those who make use of both their Eyes. I had the luck to to be acquainted with one of this Number in Germany, whom I judged the most extemporary Wit I ever met with. I remember I was once curious to know what he thought of Black, Red, White, and other Colours, his answer was, he framed to himself the same idea of such things that we frame to ourselves of occult qualities.  
2. Thus all things impartially weighed on each side, I could not ascribe those differences and manifold degrees of Wit we observe among the generality of Men, to any other Cause with a greater appearance of Truth, than to the different perfections of their Souls: For meditating sometimes upon the grounds of this common Word, quantum homo homini praestat, how much one man surpasseth another in Vivacity, sharpness, penitrancy, and other intellectual Endowments. I was inclined to believe some things among those Imperfect Spirits, for such are the Souls of Men, as being each of them but a part of the whole Man, answerable to what Divinity will needs have us to admit, among those perfect Spirits, we call Angels. I was inclined I say, to think that there are different Species or Hierarchies of Souls, as well as of other created Spirits. For I conceive an Angel, and I believe the School Divines will not give me the lie, to be farther distant from the perfection of a Cherubin, or Seraphim, than a Lion, or any other inferior Creature is from that of a Man. Now the reason of this great variety in that superior Spiritual Nature, establisheth the same, or not an unlike one in the Souls of Men. The Divines than say, that if God had created but one sort of things, or one single Species, he had not given us so very Illustrious Marks of his Power, and Wisdom; and consequently had been less glorified by us. Undoubtedly then a Specifical variety of Spirits, as they speak in the Schools, must needs be a greater manifestation of his Glory, than, to borrow this other Scholastic Expression, a mere numerical one. We may discourse after the same manner of our Souls. For as the great diversity of Bodies furnisheth us with a nobler Idea of God's Power, than if he had created but one kind, or all of one Texture; so if I suppose different Species, and Hierarchies of Souls as of Angels, I frame, no doubt, a higher conceit of his perfections. Yet notwithstanding all this, you shall not be allowed hence to infer, that there are different Species of Men: For this Denomination we take from what is most obvious to our Senses, that is from the Bodies. In which we can observe no such difference, as we may easily take notice of between a Horse and a Lion, a Lion, an Ape, and a Bird, etc. this Doctrine will raise in our minds a great Respect and Veneration for Men of greater Abilities than we know ourselves to be of; for we shall conceive their Souls are in a higher order, as indeed they are, and consequently pay to them a due and proportionable Homage, as Angels do Honour and Esteem Archangels, and Archangels likewise Powers, Thrones, etc. But I must needs here, for your further satisfaction, answer some curious inquiries about this matter.  
1. How comes it to pass that a most perfect Soul is sometimes lodged in a most defectuous Body? I answer, this happens against the intention of Nature: for Nature delights in proportion, and reason teacheth us, there should be some proportion between the Beauty of the Soul, and that of the Body it lodgeth in, as the Stateliest Palaces are ordinarily the dwelling places of the greatest Princes. 2. Are not the noblest Souls more ordinarily lodged in beautiful Bodies? I answer they are; for the reason above mentioned, and 'tis by accident, if perhaps the contrary happeneth. But these are the solutions of a mere Naturalist, or of one that favours too much Nature. I answer then in Second Instance, we must search after the true cause of such surprising contingencies in the first cause of all things, I mean in God himself, who may do, and does sometimes, what, to our weak Judgements, Nature neither seems to desire nor require. 3. Doth it never happen that a Soul of the first or second Order, that is a most perfect one, is so disabled, during its stay in a corruptible Body, as never to discover its natural abilities? I answer 'tis not likely that such a case should ever happen, or if it does, this is as I was saying before, against the intention of Nature, tho' not of the Author of Nature, and a mere chance occasioned by some considerable defect of our Organs, which the Soul, how perfect soever, is not able to supply, because it wants a fit and convenient matter to work upon. But hence some that take notice but of few things, and consequently are easily mistaken, may conclude the contrary of what I intent to assert, that the various degrees of Wit depend on the diversity of our Organs; which cannot be Lawfully inferred from what I have said, for as if we place the most imperfect Soul, that is one of the Lowest Order, in the most complete Body can be imagined, it shall never for all this, transcend its own dull nature, and by consequence shall operate but very imperfectly, so if we conceive the Noblest Soul that ever God created in a Body most imperfect, that is, destitute of necessary Organs, or having but the Rudiments of true Organs, it shall never do what otherwise it had been able to perform, because it cannot discover to us its abilities in this Life, but by these material instruments, nor operate to any perfection they be wanting, or notably defective Which argued only Imperfection i● the Instruments, not in the principal Agent. Thus the defects we observ● in a mere fool, are not really in hi● Soul, but occasioned by the overthrow of those parts of his Body without which he cannot utter himself rationally. Whensoever then perceive by all the most visible sign of Health, and good Texture, tw● Bodies equally Sound, Perfect, an● Acomplisht, and yet a notable difference between the two Persons t● whom those Bodies belong; a notabl● difference I say as to their Intellectuals, I mean Judgement, Sense, Sharpness and Wit, I conclude instantly without further deliberation, an● perhaps without Error too, that the one hath a Soul of a Lower Rank, and the other of a Higher.  
3. Yet I acknowledge willingly there may be other Inferior Causes, that contribute not a little to the increase of Wit: For how perfect soever we conceive the Soul to be, she requires still the help both of Vital and Animal Spirits. And if these be but too few, or not lively enough, you shall find her slow, dull and heavy. 'Tis not then an unwholesome Advice to all such as are sensible they have received from above, Animam bonam, a not very imperfect Soul; to conserve with all possible care the necessary Instruments of her most Spiritual Operations; I mean not to consume by excessive Venery, excessive Drink, or any other kind of Surfeit those Spirits, without which their Souls, though never so perfect, will act but very imperfectly, and far below that degree of perfection God hath allowed them. Upon this account, a sober Diet, or temperate Life is the best Preserver both of Wit and Health; for nothing more true than this common Word Vinum moderate sumptum acuit ingenium, Wine doth not only strengthen the Stomach but likewise quickens the Spirits, if moderately made use of; as on the contrary it weakens the Stomach, and darkens the Understanding, if taken excessively, or beyond a proportionable measure.  
4. There is as yet another greater Promoter of Wit, we must not forget, which is to converse often, and keep Company with those that are really Ingenious and Witty: For though your Soul, perhaps, be of the highest Hierarchy, yet it moves not itself easily, unless it be first moved; it must then be roused up, and awakened by the Company of those who can insensibly improve those real Talents God has vouchsafed to bestow upon it: For as we may boldly judge of a Man's Temper, or good Humour, of his good or bad Morals, if once we are informed what Company he most frequents; so likewise we may guests at his intellectuals by the Capacity, and Abilities of such as he is most conversant with. For experience has taught us more than once, that ingenious Men become at length dull and heavy, by frequenting too much the duller sort; whereof I think this account may be given without some show of probability. Ingenious Men have need of some considerable encouragement to display those Talents they have received from above. Now neither esteeming nor valuing much the Esteem of mean Capacities, they fall in a manner, in a certain Lethargy, and are not able to rouse up their Spirits for want of sufficient inducements. And this often happening, begets in them a habit, they cannot easily be afterwards rid of.  
5. On the contrary, nothing improves us more than a frequent converse with the wittiest sort, as daily Experience showeth; and the custom of the Ancient Philosophers, who traveled all the World over, to see and hear the Learnedest Men of their times; which example is followed in this very age we live in by most Nations of Europe, the Scots especially, and the Germans, and by the English of late, who, for the most part, become not only smother, and more polite by their travelling into Foreign Countries, but sharper too, and Wittier; as every one may easily observe, who will be at the pains to compare a merely home-bread Gentleman, with one that has either lived abroad, or conversed much with Strangers, especially the ingenious sort at home: I look upon the former as a mere Clown, destitute of that Delicacy of Wit, and discerning Faculty, you shall find upon occasion in the latter. But all this is to be understood cum grano salis, in this supposition that you have not a Soul of the lowest Rank, but one that may hold in the Hierarchy or imperfect Spirits, a place at least of an Archangel, I mean, that is not in the very lowest Order of Souls: for let a Man travel never so far, and converse never so much, he shall attempt in vain the attainment of that Wit, which by reason of the innate Imperfection of his Understanding, he is not capable of. If then a Father minds to send his Son abroad, in Order to improve his Understanding, let him consult first with himself, and others, if he be capable of any considerable improvement; for the first and chief Source in us of Wit is the Soul itself, which, all our endeavours shall not be able to quicken, if it be heavy and dull by Nature. For as some rough Stones may be smoothed into a bright Diamond, because they contain already what ever is most valuable in a Diamond; so some others, for a contrary Reason, can never be changed into so Noble Substance. Even so, if our Souls be really capable of a further improvement they may be so far improved, as to attain to no ordinary Perfection; but we lose our Time, if we pretend to equalise them at length to those of a higher Order, and Superior to them in Nature. For I take the supernatural Order, and the Natural to be proportionably answerable to one another. As then there is a certain finite number of Blessings, wherewith we may, if we please, work our Salvation, which being once granted, and infused, we can obtain no more; so likewise there is a certain pitch and measure of Natural Ability, beyond which, with all our possible endeavours, we can never reach. If then your Soul be of the Lowest Hierarchy, you can no more pretend to the Excellency of a Higher one, than an Angel to be an Archangel, or an Archangel to be a Power, etc.   

SECT. III. Different sorts of Wits.  
1. The great variety of Physiognomy, and Humane Bodies not so wonderful as that of Humane Souls.  
2. Of Habitual, and Accidental Wit.  
3. Of Universal and Singular Wits.  
4. That some Characters of Wit are inconsistent together.  
5. Other unusual distinctions of Wit.  
1. I Never wondered much at the great variety of Physiognomies and Humane Bodies, because I am fully persuaded that a perfect resemblance in every particular, is either impossible, or can be at the most, but a work of mere chance, by a fortuitous Cohalition of the compounding corpuscles into the same Texture. But believing no such Composition or Texture in our Spiritual Souls, I ever looked upon them as more deserving pieces of Wonder. I was always then extremely surprised, and I am yet, that among so many Millions of Rational Souls, God hath created since the first Birth of the World; there are so few, if any at all, resembling exactly one another: For tho' they fall not under the reach of our Eyes, yet we cannot but know infallibly their real discrepancies, by the diversity we observe in their respective productions, which, as I was lately saying, spring originally from the Soul, though sometimes it may suffer an occasional stop, or chance, by the Temper of the Body. But to be more plain, what I say deserved ever my highest admiration, was this, that let men's Bodies resemble never so much one another, their Souls shall never be near of the same temper; by which I mean not only the same humour, but likewise the same degree of Perfection or Wit. Whereof for Methods sake we may consider two sorts: The First I call Habitual, the Second Accidental. An habitual Wit is proper only to all such and only to such as are habitually inclined, and disposed to think and speak sensefully, and to the Purpose on all occasions. And this is the true Character of those that are deservedly called Witty. Such observe naturally St. Bernard's Judicious Precept, Verbum bis Veniat ad Limam quam semel ad Linguam, they think twice before they speak once, lest their words should forerun their thoughts. They are wise, discreet, humble, peaceable, and the fittest of all Men for the Managment of great Affairs. The accidental Wit is the Product in a manner of a mere chance, and hazard, such as that of most, at least of many Women, the most talkative, but neither the most judicious, nor the most thinking part of Mankind. They say sometimes, things that look like Wit, but impetu naturae non judicii, merely by a sudden vehemency of their Nature, or rather a certain volubility of their Tongues, not by Judgement, or a serious reflection, what proportion their discourse may have with the Subject in question, because, they seldom take notice of the Dictates of their discerning Faculty, but follow the sudden motions of a mutable and confused Imagination or Fancy. ●his is only to be understood of that sort of Women, who are to be accounted Witless rather, than Witty: For this accidental Wit we are now speaking of, holds so much of Chance, that mere Fools may now and then stumble upon it. And I am really of opinion, as, Nemo omnibus horis sapit, No Man hath always his Wits about him, so likewise, Nemo omnibus horis desipit, no man's Brains are so darkened, but that he may have on certain occasions some Lucid Intervals. We must not then judge a Man Witty, as some short sighted People do, because of his uttering a Witty word, or two, by chance rather than by judgement. 'Tis not one or two Conversations, nor broken pieces of Discourse, that we are to take our measures by for decisions of this nature; but after, at least some days familiar converse with those, whose Reach and Capacity we are curious to know, we may become capable of making such discoveries.  
2. There is a second distinction of Wits worthy our Consideration. Some we may call Universal Wits, other Singular ones; which Word I take not in the most obvious Sense, as it imports some peculiar pre-eminency, but as it may be determined to imply a limitation of Capacity to some particular Subject. For 'tis most certain that, Non omnia possumus omnes, as there are many things we cannot overcome with the strength of our Bodies, so there are far more beyond the greatest Abilities, and longest reach of our Souls. Thus a Man may prove an able Mathematician, who shall be but an ordinary Divine, and on the contrary you shall meet with most subtle School Divines, that are simple and dull in all other respects. Thus likewise you may meet with some Physicians that can discourse pertinently enough of all Tempers and Distempers, yea, and prescribe in general twenty different Remedies for the same Disease, yet want a certain practical Judgement, so necessary for a due application, that they kill unhappily more than they cure. I have been familiarly acquainted with some excellent Gamesters at the Chess, which is thought to require a great deal of Wit, whom certainly I knew to be of little or no Understanding in all other things. Whereof we can give no rational account, unless we suppose, what I hold to be most true, that there are some Characters of Wit inconsistent one with another, because they depend upon different principles; some springing from the Intellect, and some from the Imagination, faculties so opposite one to another, that we can hardly ever excel in them both, because the latter relies much upon mere proportion, combination, shape, and situtation, and the former from all such Materialities. Hence if a man is a most skilful Gamester at the Chess▪ but cannot penetrate the subtle School Difficulties, 'tis an evident mark that his Imaginative faculty hath the advantage above the Intellective. And again, if an able Divine find himself unfit for the Mathematics, Chess, or any other Mechanical exercise depending much upon the shape of things proportion, figure, and situation, he may certainly thence conclude, that Nature hath bestowed upon him a penetrancy of understanding, but no considerable quickness of Imagination. As to those Wits I have called Universal, I know not, if in the rigour of the Word it may be allowable, that there are any such in the World. But taking the thing in a less rigorous sense, we may say, That such as have a general Wit fit for all Sciences, Arts, Employs, or at least can discourse ingeniously, and to the purpose, with a certain air of probability of any Subject whatsoever, are to be accounted Universal Wits. For this Character implies at least, besides a not ordinary quickness of Imagination, some general Notions and Ideas of most honourable things.  
3. But here is a third distinction, or rather a third sort of Wits: For some are slow, and others extemporary. The latter are Men of a sudden and extemporary sharpness, and much esteemed by the lesser discerning sort, because having always an answer at hand to any Question whatsoever you may propose to them, they are never surprised. Such sort of Men discover all their abilities in the first converse you have with 'em, because they are not capable to speak to the purpose after premeditation; a witty Word must needs issue out of their Mouths on a sudden, as a Lightning out of a dark Cloud. The Slower Wits, as not being quick in their replies, are often laughed at by the less understanding sort. They conceive easily enough, but mistrusting prudently their own Abilities, venture not to utter their Thoughts, till they understand the matter entirely, and to the bottom. You may compare them unfitly to the Water, that admits easily of any sort of Figure, or Character you please to frame upon it with your Finger, but shall in a moment lose it again. They resemble Gold rather, or any other Metal hard to be wrought upon; but withal being tenacious, and a faithful Preserver of whatever you Carve upon it. So they hardly ever let go the Images of things once conceived. They were undoubtedly meant by Aristotle, when he said that the Melancholy are ingenious and Witty, Ingeniosi Melancholici, which is not to be understood of a certain black and terrestrial Melancholy, for this is dulness itself, but of that sort which is animated by brisk, lively and vigorous Spirits, and purified by a clear Flame.  
4. I doubt it may not be allowed here to make a fourth distinction of Profound, and Superficial Wits: For some have received from above a kind of comprehensive Knowledge of most things. They see in a manner as Angels do the remotest conclusions in their first principles, without any formal consequence. Such Men are not only fit for Humane Society, but to sit at the Helm, and manage the weightiest Affairs of Great Kingdoms and Empires. They are not sometimes much admired by the undiscerning sort, especially in a free and familiar Converse, because they speak little, being naturally more thinking and contriving, than talkative, but what they say carries along with it such a Character of good Sense, that you shall instantly discern them to be none of the common sort. Yet as there is nothing in the World Omni ex parte beatum, without a mixture of some imperfection; these Great Men are so taken up sometimes with their own Thoughts, and Designs, that in a familiar converse they seem not to talk to the purpose; which gives occasion to the Vulgar, to think that they are really simple. Now these Wits we call Superficial, are not indeed wholly dull, but in the next degree to the dullest sort. You shall not be sensible of their Weakness at their first Compliment, their first utterance being commonly senseful enough, Which I have likewise observed in some Fools. But you shall easily discern the heightness of their Brains in a continued discourse; let them but go on, for speak they must, and will show in a trice their foppish and simple Temper, because they pretend commonly to know every thing, though they have but few clear Notions of any thing. They value themselves highly upon the account of a not ordinary Volubility of their Tongues, as being talkative beyond measure, like most Women, which the less knowing part of Mankind, take to be a piece of Wit.   

SECT. iv The Character of a Pretender to Wit.  
1. What is here meant by a Pretender to Wit.  
2. Some reflections on the Chemists.  
3. What is understood by L'esprit deli'cats, or a delicate Wit.  
4. That this Character of Wit is not proper to the French alone.  
1. I Mean not by a Pretender to Wit a mere Fool, but rather one that hath some share in this Noble Endowment of the Mind. Far less do I understand any of those Learned Societies, that make a peculiar profession of promoting real Knowledge: For we must needs confess several of their Members not to be mere Pretenders to Learning, but eminent Virtuoso's, and great Wits. I mean then by this somewhat ambiguous Word, all such as foolishly pretend to more Wit than God and Nature have really allowed them. I conceive them to be near a kin to those superficial Wits, we were lately discoursing of, and not very unlike the Nominal Philosophers; because their deepest Knowledge reacheth no farther than to the Etimologies, Derivation, and Nature of Names; upon which account they prefer themselves before Men of more supposed Abilities. They are not clear enough sighted to discern what is true Sense, or down right Nonsense in a Discourse: They are only capable to judge of a polite Expression, of a Word A-la-mode, and other such like Childish niceties. They have, I confess, some confused Notions of every thing, which emboldens them to debate things that are beyond the reaeh of their Capacity. They are the professed Censurers of Mankind, and can speak good of none, themselves only excepted: I conceive them to be ever without Rest and Repose, yea, and the most miserable of all Men, because most obnoxious, not to be envied, but to envy others. They are highly offended if you happen to commend any other in their Presence but themselves, or any other Man's Works but their own; if perhaps they have appeared in Public, wrapped up in a Pamphlet or two. For they make it their whole business to cut deep in the Reputation of those who should, methinks, be above the aspiring, and reach of their Envy. This Man, say they, in a familiar Converse, hath printed such a Book, as you know but containing little Truth in it, they could easily refute the Arguments, and Doctrine it offers, if they judged the matter worthy their while; he hath mistaken himself in several material points, and speaks here with little coherency, and there flat untruth, though perhaps they have not so much as seen the Title Page of the Book they talk thus at random of; you shall name no Philosophy, no Poem, no ingenious Piece, that such men have not perused more than once, but you'll do them a piece of service not to question them too much upon any particulars, lest you discover their Vanity and Weakness. They are more guilty than the rest of Mankind of that general hatred, that those of one Profession conceive easily one against another: For the common Word is but too true, Figulus figulum odit. They leave no Stone unmoved to ruin the Repute of such as concur, or share with them in any profitable Employ. I know no People in the World that have less Respect for, and less Knowledge of Antiquity. I have heard some of those Irregular Heads call Aristotle, whom probably they had never read, a mere Fool, only because they had declared themselves Carthesians. I have always observed this sort of Men to affect extremely novelties, but above all new terms and new coined Words. Italian Proverbs, Epigrams, Devises, premeditated and short Sentences, and sometimes the sharpest both Hebrew, Greek, and Latin Words. 'Tis pleasant to hear some Physicians, especially the greener ones, talking perpetually of Acids and Alcaliis. I dispute not here the Truth of the thing in itself, whether it may be allowed that an acid, as some do think, is the general cause of all Distempers. But the affections only in speaking of the matter, I justly blame, and look upon it as a mark of little Judgement, and Wit. Who would not laugh to hear a Physician resolve all his Patient's doubts with an Acid and an Alcaly.  
2. But nothing shall divert you more, than the familiar use of some conceited Chemists, especially if dissemblingly admiring them. They will display in a quarter of an hour several great and rare Arcana's, or Secrets, yet without discovering any of them, but only that being taken with the Bait, you may, buy at a high rate, what once known you shall undervalue or value but very little. There is no Distemper, but such Physicians will undertake to cure. They speak great things, and promise Wonders, as pretending to do more with a dozen of drops of some Essence, Oil, Tincture or Spirit, than the Galenists with a Troop of Simples, and an infinite variety of loathsome Decoctions. They pretend to the great Art of making Gold, and of converting imperfect Metals into perfect. If you understand not their Mysteries, you must submit your Judgement, because you are not perhaps a Master of the Art, who only is able to comprehend the Frame, and Texture of the Philosopher's Stone, of the Alkahest, extraversion, of Mercury, etc. I have a great respect for Helmont, that celebrated Chemist, but more upon the Authority of an Eminent Virtuoso of this Nation who esteems him, then by a free determination of my own Judgement. For I must beg his pardon, if I say, I conceive, him to speak sometimes like a mad Man, or as if he understood, not what he meant: Because as all Men desire naturally to know, Omnis homo naturaliter scire desiderat: so all Men have a desire no less natural and vehement to be known, Omnis homo naturaliter sciri desiderat; If then we have any important Secret to communicate to the World, the discovery whereof may redound to our Honour, and the good of Mankind, I am fully persuaded that no man is so indifferent for the increase of his own Repute, as to publish it immediately, and obscurely, or in such terms, as few or none can comprehend. Thus when Helmont, and other self-conceited Chemists speak so boastingly and boisterously of the great Wonders they can do, without discovering their Methods, so that they may be understood, I am apt to believe that they have but very confused Ideas, and obscure Notions of those great Arcana's they talk so much of.  
3. You shall meet with some other Virtuoso's that pretend not to those high Strains of Wit, but to a certain politeness in their discourse, and Writings; if they meddle sometimes with the Pen. Their chief care is not how to speak sencefully, but how to speak politely, wherein they discover the weakness of their Judgement, and the shallowness of their Wit: For men of great Parts are wont to express themselves significantly, but without any apparent affection of too much Polity. This is the common defect of some young Gentlemen that live upon their Rents in, and about London. They think themselves sufficiently improved by frequenting the Playhouse, and turning over Playbooks, which contribute more to the tickling of their Imagination, than to the framing their Judgement. I confess, nevertheless, they may get some advantage by such Lectures, provided they take not so much notice of the Words, and manner of expression, as of the design and management of the intrigue, wherein the greatest Wit of the piece consists.  
Others again make it a part of their business to study the fashionable Art of Complementing: as being fully persuaded, they can give no better proof of their Sufficiency, than by studied Compliments, which is nothing else but a piece of French Wit: For 'tis almost become Proverbial among the Vulgar French, c'esi un homme d'esprit il fait bien un Compliment. Such a one is a Witty Gentleman, because he complementeth well. If the French had no other thing to be proud of but this Complimental mode, the greatest Favour I could do them, would be to reckon them among the Superficial Wits, I have spoken of elsewhere; and I fear all things impartially weighed, they can be hardly allowed any higher Rank. I know they pretend to a certain delicacy of Wit, which they monopolise to themselves, as if other Nations could not reach it, and which they say is no otherwise accountable for, then that it is, as one of their beaux esprits speaketh, un je ne scay quoy, I know not what. But having lived near Twenty Years among the Learnedest sort of them, I think I may venture to give a clear and distinct notion of What they call delicacy of Wit, that thereby it may appear to be no prerogative of the French, but common enough to all civilised Nations.  
4. I have observed then that what they call un esprit delicate, is chief known by a smooth, easy and Natural expression, an accurate and judicious comparison, or a senseful Word that may be easily mistaken by a common understanding, or taken in a sense it was not intended for. That this is a near description of a Delicate Wit: I could easily if it were necessary, prove by those very Authors, they allow most of this Character too. I can imagine no other reason why the French mistake themselves so far, as to think that other Nations have little or nothing of this forementioned Delicacy, then because they writ Romances, and Love Intrigues, which admit and require this smooth way of writing, more than any of their Neighbours, who generally choosing more solid Subjects, have not so often occasion to give Proofs of their being capable to write delicately. For it would be easy to show this Character in the Authors of all Nations, who have chanced to handle Subjects that required it.  
I shall add in the last Instance, that those whom we call here Pretenders to Wit, are commonly better Spokesmen, than Writers or Penmen. They surprise those that have never before conversed with them, with an extempore Eloquence, and an easy Utterance of their Thoughts upon any obvious Subject, by an extraordinary Volubility of their Tongues, besides a vehement inclination to be harkened to in a Public Conversation, as if they were Oracles; hence it is that they think their repute lessened, if any other in the Company talk more, with greater Authority, or longer than themselves. But it often happens that those same Men, who seem to the the Vulgar sort, so eloquent in an extemporary debate, are at a loss in cold Blood, and when on occasion, they must recollect themselves to write their own Thoughts. Whereof take this short and rational account: Such men being endowed with a quick Imagination, which being stirred up in a Debate, furnisheth them with Words enough, and with certain extemporary Arguments, fit to dazzle the Vulgar sort, than to persuade a Solid Wit. On the other side, their Intellective Faculty being but weak, and now left to itself, without the help of an unwakened Fancy, gives no more Light.   

SECT. V The Signs of Wit.  
1. That no Nation can Monoplioze Wit to its self.  
2. That cold Climates are fit for the producing of great Wits, than hot Countries.  
3. That the English lose much of their Esteem abroad, by writing so little in Latin.  
4. The Chief Writers of Great Britain.  
1. I Take this for no certain sign of Wit to be born under Mercury, rather than under Jupiter, Venus or Mars. A Child may prove a witty Man, though in the Critical Minute of his conception or birth, he be not countenanced by the favourable Aspect, of any Planet, or Constellation; for I am of opinion, that the Influences of Heaven, the vulgar Heads talk so much of, do not so much affect our Bodies, as the inconspicuous Effluviums of the Earth, we scarce ever take notice of. Neither do I take it to be a certain mark of Wit, our being born in this Climate rather than in that, in a hot Country rather than in a cold, in the Subpolar Regions, rather than under the Equinoctial Line. I cannot but pity and laugh at the simplicity of the Italians, French and Spaniards, who think themselves wittier than the Northern Nations, only because they live in hotter Climates, for at this rate they must acknowledge the Moors, Negroes and Indians far beyond themselves in Wit, which they will not, I doubt, readily grant. It was in my Judgement no piece of Wit in the famous Du Peron to say of the Jesuit Iretster, that he was ingenious for a Germane. The occasion of this vulgar Error among Foreigners may be thus rationally accounted for. In the hotter Climates, because the Bodies are weaker, the InhabItants especially, if civilised, are more given to the exercising of the Mind, than of the Body. But the Northern Nations take generally more delight in the exercise of their Body, than in that of the Mind, as being more alured thereunto by their Natural Courage, good Temper, and not ordinary Strength. I see not then what other Influence the coldness of the Air can have upon us, than to incline us more to the Improvement of the Natural Endowments of our Bodies, than to the promoting those of our Souls. But in the main here lies the mistake of those self-conceited Foreigners, that seeing perhaps a greater number of Virtuoso's among them, than among us, they conclude very illegally to our disparagement, and to their own advantage, that they have more Wit than we, whereas they can be allowed to raise from hence, no other rational Inference, but perhaps this, that they have more Wits, or rather more Writers; for among twenty French, Spanish and Italian, that busy the Press, you shall hardly meet with two, or three that deserve to be styled Witty. The Inhabitants then of the Northern parts of the World, delighting generally more in Wars, or in Warlike Exploits, than in Writing. No wonder if they trouble not the Press with such a number of useless Books as the hotter Climates do: which argues a mere want of Inclination to busy themselves that way, but not in any innate disposition to write well. For we cannot but know by daily Experience that no People in the World write more wittily than the the Natives of cold Climates, if once they betake themselves to the Muses, which minds me of a Saying of the famous Barklay, a most ingenuous Writer, who speaks with a generous freedom, the known Ill and Good of all Nations, not sparing the Scots, his own Country Men, wherein he thought them defective, or worthy of Reprehension. He hath then, discoursing of their Aptitude for all kind of Literature, these observable Words, Litterae nunquam felicius se habuerunt, quam cum in Scotos inciderunt. I know not how to English this bold Expression. But his meaning, if I mistake it not, was, that the Muses were never happier, than when after all their Travels, they had repaired unto the Scots; whereby he seems to insinuate that it was not always the Fate of this Nation, no more than of most of the Northern Countries, for the reason above mentioned, to have lodged those Honourable, Gentle, profitable Guests, but that when they happened to stay any considerable time among the Scots, they did them as much Honour, if not more than any other People in Europe. Whereof we may instance as sufficient prooffs both Barkleys, Father and Son, the Famous Buchanan the best of Poets since the Primitive Times, their undoubted Countryman, whatever others may pretend to the contrary. Scotus called deservedly in the Schools, Doctor Subtilis, the Subtle Doctor, together with the incomparable Nepier, first Inventor of the Logarithmes, and several others. I conceive those with the Generality of the Understanding sort, to be far beyond any Foreign Writers in the Subject, they handle, whether, French, Spanish, or Italian, but what Barkley saith of the Scots, may likewise be said of the Danes, Germans and Hollanders. Tycobrache is a Star of the first Magnitude, Kepler, Greiier, Clavius, Nostradamus', are matchless. But I think without the offence of any other Nation, we may apply more particularly this Sentence to the English, Literae, nunquam se felicius habuerunt, quam cum in Anglos inciderunt▪ For the World is obliged to them for the best and newest discoveries i● Natural Philosophy, Physic and Anatomy. But the pity is they writ so much in their own Tongue, that the less knowing sort of Foreigners abroad, ask sometimes if there be any Learned Men in England, because, some Eminent Physicians excepted, few or none of them write in Latin, the Universal Language. There are several Excellent English Books that would prove a great increase of the public good, and the Honour of this Nation, if they were translated into Latin by an accurate Polite Pen. Of this number I reckon the Works of most Divines, and whatever the deservedly renowned boil has hitherto published, the Whole Duty of Man, and the Discourses of the Reverend Dr. Tillotson, etc.  
2. I shall say nothing of another incomparable advantage, that England has above most Nations of Europe. I mean that Learned and Royal Society, instituted for the promoting of Real Knowledge, and the general Good of Mankind. This is one of those Infinite Blessings this Nation received by his late Majesty's happy Restauration, who was the Head and first of this Assembly, not only because of his Royal Prerogative and independency, but likewise upon the account of his Princely Wit and Wisdom, being not only in the opinion of all Europe, a most wise Prince, but in the Esteem of all such as have the Honour to approach his Sacred Person, a most complete Gentleman. Likewise His Royal Brother, our present King, besides his Princely Virtues, which, as all the World knows, he possesseth in a most High Degree, is likewise deservedly esteemed in other particular respects. 'Twas observed at Edinburgh, that none gave a more rational account, than his Majesty of that wonderful Shower of Herrings, that happened at the South of Scotland. For whereas the most part had recourse to a certain Panspermia or universal seed of every thing, spread every where, which other necessary conditions concurring together, might be improved into a living Creature; his Majesty solved more rationally this Phaenomenon by certain Spouts of Water that happen sometimes at Sea, wherein the small Herring being easily, with the Help of a Whirlwind, tossed up into the Air, and carried off in a thick Cloud, fell down again not far from the Shoar. As to the other Members of this Royal Society, I think I do them no wrong, if I say that the famous boil is the Chief Pillar thereof: For his Name carries with it such a weight of Authority in Foreign Countries, that I have heard some Eminent Men say, that whatever he positively affirms in his Books is sure and evident. Out of all this discourse, we may raise to our purpose this self-evident Inference, that Coelum atticum is no more an infallible Cause or Sign of Wit than Caelum Articum, I mean that Wit is of all Nations, though not perhaps of all Ages, since some have been extremely dull, as the Tenth for Instance, and some likewise both fore and after Ages.  
3. Yea I think it no Paradox to say that the cold Climates are the fittest Soils for the producing of great Wits. I conceive but two things necessary for the existency of what generally we understand by a great Wit, first, a Soul of the first, or at lest none of the lowest Hierarchy, I mean one of a not ordinary perfection, whereof I have discoursed at large in the Second Section. Secondly. A well tempered Body furnished, besides the necessary Organs, with a great quantity of brisk and lively Spirits. As to the former point, I hope you will grant that 'tis in the Power of the Almighty to create most perfect Souls in cold Climates as well as in hot. Hence than you can pretend no advantage. And for the latter 'tis evident, that that the Bodies in cold Climates are better tempered, of a firmer Texture, and fuller of brisk and lively Spirits, than those of hotter Countries, where men are commonly languishing, faint and exhausted by a sensible dissipation of those few Spirits they live and move by. They are then little acquainted with the World, who affirm the purest Air to be the only Element for the subtlest Wits; since we know by experience, and 'tis generally confessed by all Foreigners, that the Scotch and the Irish, who breath in no very thin Air, are far subtler disputants in Divinity, Logic, and such like Scholastic, and Airy matters, than either the Italians or the French. I would then have Men to cease from gazing upon the Stars, and not look upon the Celestial Influences, as the only causes of those various Characters of Wit, we observe in the World; for there may be some more hidden Sources of acuteness, and less reflected on: Such I take to be the invisible Effluviums of the Earth: For as the Famous Boil acutely proves, 'tis most probable that they are the unheaded Causes of many Epidemical Distempers, so I think it no less conformable to reason, to say that they occasion likewise the good temper of the mind, by contributing not a little towards the Health of the Body; for since 'tis most certain by daily experience, that the Inhabitants of this Northern part of the World, to whatever they apply themselves entirely, become at length most eminent therein, and do far exceed the rest of Mankind, espceially in Learning, Courage, and all other Warlike Exploits, we must needs confess there may be Corpuscles issuing out from the coldest Soil, that mixing themselves thorough the Pores of the Body with the blood, give it such a Texture, as is requisite to make it a fit Instrument for the most Spiritual Functions of the Souls. I am so far from believing the vulgar Error, or rather the vain conceit of some ancient Romans, that those who are born in, or near the cold Zones, have few or none of those natural Gifts that make a true Virtuoso; I am so far, I say, from believing such a gross and vulgar Error, that I hold such to be the fittest men in the World for penetrating Airy, and Subtle things, and for doing great ones, if they will be but at the pains, when occasion serves to improve their Natural Talents. For besides what I have said, are not we beholden to the Northern Nations for the Noblest and best pieces of Art and Wit, I mean those various and ingenious Engines, relating to shipping, lifting, weighing, etc. invented for the Use and Conveniency of Mankind. The Gunpowder, the Guns, and most of the Mathematical Instruments, especially Microscops, Telescops, and Megalescops are the Fruits of their Industry. And either the Germans invented the Art and Mystery of Printing, or the Chinese, who live not in a very hot Country. The Japans live almost as far from the Equinoctial Line as we do, and yet are accounted inferior to no Nation in the World as to Wit, sharpness, and Penetrancy of Judgement.   

SECT. VI The Signs of Wit in the Features of the Body, or the Witty Physiognomy.  
1. That Physiognomy is neither a groundless or vain Science.  
2. The whole Object of Physiognomy.  
3. A rational account of Physiognomical conjectures, relating to the Head and its several parts, as Forehead, Face, Hinder Part, Hair, and its Colours, the Stature and its Accident.  
4. In what sense the Tongue belongs to Physiognomy.  
1. I Know not well what was his Opinion of Physiognomy, who said that Frons, oculi, vultus, persaepe mentiuntur, Oratio vero saepissime. The Forehead, the Eyes, the Face do do often impose upon us, but oftener yet the Tongue. Nevertheless I conceive clearly by this Expression that he thought it not a vain and quite groundless Science, else he had not made use of this double Restriction, persaepe saepissime. If then we fail sometimes, when we judge of men's inward Temper by their Physiognomy, or conspicuous Features of their Bodies, we must acknowledge ingenuously our want of Skill, and insight in the matter. For since the Visible things do manifest the Invisible, there are no doubt some visible Characters of our Inside, written by the Hand of God in our outward shape. But as every one cannot read Books, and falress yet Men, those Characters, how conspicuous soever to some, and easy to deeypher, lie hidden, and are untelligible mysteries to others. Yet as we ma● discover Foris, his Satellites, or Jupiter's Waiters thorough a good Prospect or Teloscop, tho' not with our naked Eye, so by the help of this curious Art, a vulgar understanding may, to his great satisfaction, see things, he could never before either observe or understand. Though I pretend not to any extraordinary Skill in this present Subject, yet I may be allowed to set down here some of my own observations, grounded upon Reason and Experience. Because Physiognomy can no more pretend to any demonstration, than Judiciary Astrology; what I shall say must be looked upon at the most, as probable conjectures, and not as certain and positive decisions, which you may follow as infallible Rules, to judge of those you converse, or consider. To proceed then with some order and Method, I conceive the whole Object of this curious Science to be comprehended in these four Words, Frons, Oculi, Vultus, Oratio. By the first as a Physiognomist, I understand not only the Forehead, but all the neighbouring parts backwards, as the Hair, the Ears, the Hinder part of the Head, or the Nape of the Neck. By the second, Oculi, I mean what it literally sounds, though we may allow a larger Signification to the Word Vultus, and understand thereby not only the whole Frame and Conformation of the Face, but also that of the whole Body. Oratio is not to be taken so much by the Physiognomist, for the discourse itself; as for the adjuncts thereof, as sound stammering Precipitation, etc. I shall then, without losing the due respects I own to the Author of the forementioned Sentence, invert it thus to my present design, in lieu of saying Frons, Oculi, vultus, per saepe mentiuuiur Oratio vero saepissime, I do affirm and maintain that, Frons Oculi vultus verum persaepe loquuntur, Oratio vero saepissime. The Front, the Eyes, the Face, speak often the Truth, and discover really what we are, but the Tongue as yet more frequently.  
2. To begin with the Forepart and Highest of the Face or Forehead We may consider its Breadth, it Length, its Prominency or Height▪ I take the length thereof, from the distance between the two Temples the Breadth from the Root of th● Nose upwards to the Coronal Suture I say then a Forehead both broad long, and somewhat prominent, o● not quite flat, is a more than ordinary mark of a solid Judgement, and a sharp Wit. Because those Dimensions cannot be thus enlarged, but by a most perfect Soul, and able to extend thus the Matter it informs, o● which is all alike for my intent, by ● great number of Animal Spirits, who being brisk, active and lively, make room for themselves. I said Prominent, or not flat: For though flatness of the Forehead, provided other necessary conditions be not wanting may be often consistent with understanding and Capacity, yet it showeth some natural deficiency either i● the Soul or in the Spirits, that could not thrust forward their Work. But I know no greater disadvantage, or more ominous of this part we are speaking of, than its narrowness, or straitness, whether we take the narrowness thereof from the Root of the Nose upwards, or from the Right Temple to the Left; for this is but a too visible mark of a very imperfect Soul, and of an extraordinary want of Spirits: And those few that such puny Heads do lodge, are withal Dormant in a manner, and cannot for want of Room either dilate themselves, or give any Light. This you shall believe the more probable, if you take particular notice of those that are naturally Fools, and silly. For you shall scarce meet with one of them that wants this mark of his Infirmity. What I have said of the Forehead, may be likewise understood of the whole Head: The Bulk whereof, generally speaking, if proportionable to the Body is no ill mark, and I take the contrary to be a vulgar Error, confuted by daily Experience, and the aforesaid reasons. And if one contrary may discover another, I remember to have seen at Amsterdam, in the House near the Temple, wherein the natural Fools are kept, to the number of three or four, whose Heads did not surpass in Bulk an ordinary man's Fist. Now if Nature hath so proportionably enlarged a Man's Head, as if it had intended to make two of of one, by giving him a Forehead qualified in the aforesaid manner, and likewise a high and bulky hinder part, you shall hardly fail, if you say, that such a one is not of an ordinary Wit and Capacity. But that you mistake nothing here, I take the hinder part of the Head to be high or bulky, when it it is not cut in a manner even down, but overreacheth the hollow of the Neck. For the Perpendicular descent of the Head, so that the hinder part and the Neck be upon the same Perpendicular Line, is called ' pleasantly ' by the French, Le coup de hach, the Axe-strock, and is generally thought a scarce ever failing sign of a mean Wit: Because I fancy the hinder part of the Head is the Magazine of the Soul, where the Species and Images of things are conserved. This may be the reason why being desirous to recover the memory of a forgotten thing, we turn naturally our hand back thither, as if we intended to awaken our Memorative Spirits. For I doubt not but the Memory is a great help, and Promoter too of Sharpness, Judgement and Knowledge, because it represents faithfully to us all such Circumstances as are necessary for the right framing of our Reflections. It then Nature hath deprived us of this back Room, we may nevertheless have, perhaps, some no inconsiderable Talents, but none in a very high degree.  
3. As for the Hair, four things may be considered concerning them. 1. Their lying flat on the Head. 2 lie. Their curling. 3 lie. Their quantity. 4 lie. their Colour. The First signifies Dulness, if they be not somewhat curled at the ends, because this showeth a want of Heat. The Second some greater sharpness, because it supposeth some more heat. The Third, if very considerable, and accompanied with thickness, is a sign of too many Excrementitious Parts, and of a too material Substance of the Brains. Of the Fourth for Methods sake, I shall distinguish but three sorts, the black and the fair Colour, as two extremes, the Chestnut Colour, as a middle between them both. The Fair is a surer mark of Wit, Judgement, and good Sense, than the Black, because 'tis originally occasioned by the movement of brisker, clearer, and more lively Spirits. Whereas the Black, I mean the deepest sort, may sometimes import a Melancholy, heavy and dull Temper, as being of an exceeding Compact and close Texture, yet 'tis often produced by the motion of more active Spirits, but which are tempered with Terrestrial ones. And when this happens 'tis not ill Omen: But the Cheasenut Colour is to be preferred before the other two, as proceeding not from the Action of mere Terrestrial, or of mere airy Corpuscles but from a just mixture of both.  
4. I had almost forgot the Ears, whereof the Bulk only is considerable in relation to Physiognomy, because if they be respectively too great, or not proportionable to the Head, they are reckoned commonly to be a sign of dulness. The reason of the Vulgar is, because such People resemble long Eared Asses. But 'tis more rational to say, that this is occasioned by the weakness of an Imperfect Soul, who made one part proportionably larger than the other. Because though it aimed indeed, as all things do by the impulse of Nature, at the most perfect, yet it could not reach it, as being none of the Highest, or of the first Hierarchy of Souls. But to turn about now from the Ears to the Eyes; they are not only windows through which the Soul looketh out to us, but through which likewise we look into it, and by their Light discover easily its real perfections, and abilities. I know but three things in them worthy a Physiognomist's Observation, their Bigness, their Situation, their Colour. The black eye represents to us a judicious Soul, but none of the sharpest, because of the too compact Nature of the Instruments it makes use of, I mean of the Spirits. The blue grayish is more common, and if some other Conditions be not wanting, may be a good proof of acuteness and solidity, because of a proportionable mixture of massy and airy Corpuscles, subservient to the Functions of the Mind. The largeness is an equivocal Sign, either of Dulness, or Wit, because the great eyes are not commonly sparkling like the Stars in the Firmament, but of a sixth Light, like that of most Planets. The little Eyes then, or of no excessive size, but quick, and constantly sparkling, are reputed to be infallible marks of Sharpness and Wit, because of the brightness, agility, and liveliness of the Spirits they move and shine by. The Situation of the Eye makes but little to our purpose. Yet may not we be allowed to say that the deep eye showeth as much weakness in the Soul, as vigour in the Sight, or Vision itself; and on the other side, that the prominent Eye, which the French call a fleur de peau, may discover its good Temper and Strength. I explain myself thus. Because of the weakness of our visive Faculty, we apply a Tellescop or Prospect close to our Eye, whereas if it were stronger and more vigorous, we could see the Objects through the Prospect removed, and at some distance from our Eye. Consider then the deep or hollow. Eye, as a Prospect joining more closely in a manner to the Soul, and the Prominent somewhat more distant; and you shall instantly understand why I take the Prominency of the Eye for a mark of greater vigour in the Soul, as likewise wherefore I affirm the contrary of a deep Eye; which supplieth, in some manner, this imperfection of the Soul; because gathering closely together the visual Beams, it represents to us the Objects at a greater distance, but not so well those, or not at all, that lie at our sides, unless we turn about to them. I know this comparison is lame in some respects, but Omnis comparatio claudicat, you know else it would change its Nature.  
5. As for the other part of the object of Physiognomy, which the Latins call Vultus, Visage or Face, and whereby here I understand not only the conformation of the Face, but of the whole Body; I shall only say if we take it by the first Bias, we shall find nothing observable in it but the Colour and the Shape. The Face somewhat inclining to a natural and habitual pale, doo● in our Climate promise most; because the Spirits seem to be always refining within by serious thoughts, attentive speculations, or ingenious contrivances. The fair Complexion likewise, because of the clearness of their Spirits, shows a well disposed Soul, but not always very much acuteness. As to the shape, more length than breadth is to be most commended; for such commonly have the hinder part of the Head very large, which, as we said lately, is a good mark.  
Now if we take the word vultus precisely for man's outside, or outward appearance, we may consider two things, his Stature, and the accidents thereof. As to the first, the tallest men generally speaking, are not always the Wittiest: because in such, as in High Houses, the uppermost Room is commonly the worst furnished, their Spirits being too much dispersed to produce any considerable Effect. The middle size, for the functions of the Mind, as well as for those of the Body, is the most advantageous. I shall say nothing of the adjuncts of the Body, save that 'tis observable that the crooked, lame and blind, are ordinarily possessed of not ordinary endowments of the mind, whereof I can give no other rational account, than by saying that this happens through a peculiar disposition of an universal providence supplying thus abundantly the defects of the Body, by imparting to the Nobler part, the Soul, a peculiar perfection, and Beauty. Out of all this we may conclude not without a a show of probability, that, Frons, oculi, vultus, verum persaepe loquuntur, Oratio vero saepissime: The Front, the Eyes, the Face speak often Truth, and discover what really we are, but our Tongue yet more frequently layeth us open to the understanding sort, and perchance more certainly too, especially if we take it for the very substance of the things we say, for then by the coherency, or incoherency of our discourse, we betray ourselves either to be Fools or wise, dull or Witty. But as a Physiognomist precisely, I mean here the outside only, if I may so speak, and the accidents of our Speech, as the Sound, Precipitation, Stammering, Duration, etc. As to the Sound: To speak High and boisterously without any rational occasion, is a surer mark of a sharp voice than of a sharp Wit. Precipitation proceeds sometimes, I confess from a too quick apprehension, that conceives more things than the Tongue can well utter in a short time; but more often 'tis occasioned by the confused Ideas of the Soul. By the duration of our discourse, I mean that excessive one, whereby we become insufferable to those we converse, as being talkative beyond measure, whick I take to be no sign either of Wit or judgement, unless we admit that the talkative sort are the wittiest, and most judicious, which no man of Sense will ever grant, as being sufficiently confuted by obvious reason, and daily experience: For as, Loquaciores avium quae minores, the smallest Birds, for Instance, the Sparrows, Nightingales, etc. make more noise than the greater ones do; as the Eagle, the Swan, etc. So those petits esprits, shallow Wits, and superficial Understandings are commonly more talkative than the Judicious, and most thinking sort of Mankind.   

SECT. VII. The Imperfection of humane Wit and Knowledge.  
1. That Science does rather make us humble than proud.  
2. That our clearest Knowledge of Natural things is but mere Sceptisisme, and the Learnedest Men, but mere Sceptics.  
3. That we have a self-evidence of some truths, but no true demonstration of most things we undoubtedly believe.  
4. That mere matter may do by God's Omnipotency what our soul supposed Spiritual, performs.  
5. That not only the Mysteries of our Religion, but the most Obvious and known Objects are above the reach of our limited Capacities.  
1 'tIs a common saying, Scientia Inflat; but I doubt if it be not likewise a vulgar Error: For I am so far from believing that true Knowledge does puff up a Man, and swell him with Pride, that I can conceive nothing fit to make us truly humble without either Hypocrisy or Dissimulation. 'Tis easy to conjecture upon what grounds I run thus contrary to the Stream, and the general Opinion of most men, because methinks 'tis evident that the chief Source of true Humility, & Humiliation too, is a perfect knowledge of our own Weakness and Imperfections, of our Incapacity, and little Insight in most things, which I take to be proper to those only, who are the most knowing sort of Mankind. I look upon such as true Sceptics in this Sense, That whatever is not laid open to their Eyes, either by the Light of an undeniable demonstration, or by some sort of self-evidence, they justly doubt of. Because they understand perfectly the difficulties on both sides, which holding their Judgement in aequilibrio, equally in the middle, and in suspense, hinder them from joining closely with either of the extremes. Hence it appears that as the greatest Wits have most Doubts, so the Dullish are commonly those that doubt almost of nothing. I speak not here in matters of Faith, for as Christians, we are mere Believers, not Philosophers, but of Nature and Natural things, of the World, and what it contains, or whatever is within us, or without us: whereof we have so little Knowledge, that the self-evident principles excepted, we know nothing evidently, or at least by demonstration. We know indeed certainly that we are, as having some sensible Foundation both in Essence and Existency, That there is in us a certain internal principle, whereby we move, subsist, and understand, which we call the Soul. But how it performs all these things, what it is, whether Spiritual or Corporal we know not: I believe my Soul to be both Immortal and Spiritual. And I have read several Treatises pretending to a clear demonstration of its Spiritual Nature, which I could never yet see, nor any Impartial judge, I am afraid, shall ever be sensible of, because we can have no certitude from the light of Reason that she hath either being, or operation, not depending upon matter, or some Material Phantasma; and what in the other Life shall be her way of acting, we shall not know so long as we remain in this. I am not altogether unacquainted with the chief Prerogatives of our Souls, which are to conceeive, and frame general Notions, to prescind, or rather divide by her sharp Edge the matter, into various parts severally intellegible, to raise Influences from the general to the particular, and from the particular, though more Illegally to the general, to remember things past, envisage the present, and frame not unlikely conjectures of what is to come. But all this amounting to no more than to some degrees of probability, offers nothing like a demonstration of the Spirituality of our Souls. For I conceive no reason why God, who made all things of nothing, may not likewise make what he pleaseth of something. Where is there then any contradiction, if we say that God, who created the Matter of nothing, may change the same into a being capable to do, and in a more perfect manner to whatever our Soul performs. For I conceive it to be but a mere prejudice, and not reason that leads us to say, that whatever thinks, or reasons, is of a Spiritual Nature. 'Tis observable then, whensoever we pretend to reveal by demonstration such hidden Mysteries, we always suppose what in first Instance we should prove, I mean that God is neither so powerful to elevate the matter to what he pleaseth, nor so skilful as to change it into a form capable of most perfect operations, or at least of those that we allow to our Souls supposed to be Spiritual. But if we understand not the nature of ou● Souls, we can conceive almost a● little of the Fabric of our Bodies Here we are Admirers, and not Philosophers, since we can give but a very imperfect, and a scarce rational account of what we behold in ourselves, and know not neither how we live, how we grow, how we move, nor from what part of the Body the Blood gins to circulate, or in what part of the eye the vision is made, or whether the Child breath's in the Womb or not, etc. In one word, the whol● Texture of our Body is such a piece of wonder to the understanding sort, that i● seems to some to be no less beyond the reach of our capacity, than the very Nature of a mere Spirit.  
2. I do firmly believe what all true Christians believe; but this fundamental article of all Religion, that there is a God, though I were no Christian, I could prove to myself, and perhaps to others too, by a convincing demonstration: Yet such is the weakness, or rather the darkness of Humane Understanding, that the clearest demonstrations of this important Truth are refuted by some one or other, whose obstinacy they cannot conquer. And Vasques, if I misremember not, a subtle Romish Divine, after a large confutation of whatever had been said before his time, in order to prove the Existency of a Sovereign being, admits at length but a mere moral demonstration of this Fundamental point, though so evident indeed, that it cuts away all pretence, and excuses to infidelity. As to the other mysteries, for Instance the Trinity, and Gods contingent degrees, which our reason reacheth not; 'tis a piece of madness and folly for us to endeavour their discovery by the light of reason. Yet they may be inculcated to the People, though infinitely above their comprehensive faculty, as being Articles of mere Belief, and not at all within the reach of humane Understanding. I could not but smile to hear a certain Minister once preach on this Subject, because he very confidently assured his Auditory, that he would prove the existence of the Trinity with no less evidence than the subtlest Philosopher could demonstrate the being o● God in Nature, and his Unity. How far he performed this, 'tis neither worth your while to hear, nor mine to relate. I shall only say, that he shown himself all along a very ill Philosopher, and a worse Divine.  
3. But what wonder if men are so short sighted in things so far above the reach of their Capacity, since they know not the Nature and Natural properties of the most familiar and obvious Objects. I do in vain make my Application either to the Old or New Philosophy for the intelligence of the most common things. I am for Instance as little satisfied, when I am told, that whatever I see under so many different figures, shapes and sizes, is only occasioned by a various Texture and coalition of Corpuscles, I am, I say, as little satisfied with this, as with Aristotle's matter and form united together, I know not how: For to say a thing belongs to this or that Species or kind, because it hath a certain texture that we can give no further account of, is a Notion almost as obscure unto my dim Understanding, as if you had instanced for Answer, A matter informed by a certain specifical form. On each side you see by the very word certain we insinuate enough our doubtfulness and uncertainty of the thing. What more known than the History of the ebbing and flowing of the Sea: The dullest Mariner can give you a satisfactory relation thereof; but you may expect in vain a rational account of the same from the ablest Philosopher. To attribute with the greatest number of Philosophers this wonderful Phaenomenon to the Stars, or more particularly to the Moon, is but an ingenuous confession of their ignorance, and despair of a better answer. For it being certain that when the Moon is in the upper Quadrant of our Meridian, the Waters are not only swelled here, but likewise in the opposite part of the Earth towards our Antipodes; I cannot conceive how the Moon pierceth through such a thick and massy Body as the Earth, so as to heighten the Waters beneath. I'm sure she acts not at such a distance, either by heat or by light, for her heat is not strong, and her light is but very weak, and neither of them can penetrate above ten foot within the superficies of the Earth. Her occult and secret Influences, I neither understand, nor look upon as an answer capable to satisfy a curious enquirer. The movement of the Earth, by which some endeavour to give an account of this regular movement, we observe in the Seas, besides the uncertainty of this principle contributes but little or nothing towards the solution of this insuperable difficulty; and Maurus, his Angel moving thus orderly this great and vast Body, is but a guess, and at most but an ill grounded Opinion.  
4. If we come now ashore, and travel over the habitable Tracts of the Continent, what an infinite number of obvious, but most hidden Mysteries shall we discover every where. I shall offer but two at present to your consideration, the Loadstone, and Quicksilver, or Mercury. The former is an unpolished piece of Work, and looks like an excrementitious part of Nature: But Who can give us a tolerable account of its attractive faculty, why it draws, and holds closely Iron, rather than any other Metal; why it thrusts from it the Needle with one Pole, and attracts it again with the other; and why it declines more or less, or no at all in several parts of the World etc. Philosophers are commendable for doing their utmost endeavours and squeezing their brains to answer such difficulties; but I fear after al● their Sweats, and laborious Speculations, they shall never satisfy either themselves on this subject, or others Mercury is clearer indeed to the Ey● than the Loadstone, but as obscure if not more, to our darkened Understanding. 'Tis the very riddle of Nature, Aenigma naturae, 'tis a Monster compounded of mere contrarieties, as being round and sharp, cold, and in the opinion of some hot too light and heavy, moist and dry, corruptible and incorruptible, always the same, and yet most changeable, invisible, and by an easy recovery of itself visible again: I ever admired above all this, its compactness and close texture; for it admits not the Subtlest Air, and giving no access to the points of Fire, it flieth from before it.  
5. But I need not have recourse to the confessed Prodigies of Nature, to show how far we are from understanding any thing to the bottom. The very Sciences themselves are not such to us, if narrowly looked into. I have reason to examine the Truth of Euclides demonstrations, since I see the Impossibility of a common Segment, as they speak, demonstrated to my Weak Judgement by Proclus, and again contradicted with no less evidence by other able Mathematicians. To say nothing of the duplication of the Cub, the Squaring of the Circle, and other Gordian lenots of this Nature; I doubted always of the very Foundation of Geometry, I mean of the true Notion of a point. For when I hear this stranger description, Punctum est cujus pars nullae est, I begin to wonder what that can be, that though not a Spirit, has no Imaginable parts: and then concluding there's no such thing in being. I take the true Object of Geometry as a Line that is made of Points, and a Superficies compounded of Lines, to have no other Foundation in Essence or Existency, but my own Conceit and Fancy. I am moreover so little satisfied with the groundless grounds, and Principles of judiciary Astrology, that I fancy it the most vain, and most uncertain of all Sciences, and those that admire it to be none of the judicious sort. I confess, the Heavens are great Volumes, wherein we may read the wonderful effects of Gods infinite Power and Wisdom; but you shall see no Characters there that express the Contingency of things to come, and the occasional determinations of our free Wills. For what connexion can any rational man imagine between the Aspects of the Stars, and a Child's being one day either a King or an Emperor, or to die such a death. We know neither the Nature, Properties, nor Influences of the Celestial Bodies; how can then a man, not a mere Fool, presume to determine their contingent Effects. Astronomy indeed is somewhat better grounded. But how many things are we yet here ignorant of, the quantity of the natural year shall never be exactly determined, because we can never know the critical Minute of the Sun's first step backward from one Tropic towards the other. The new Calendar is not as yet perfect, and may one day stand in need to be corrected a second time: We can give but a very uncertain account of the Nature of Comets, and debate often about their height, periods, movement and bulk; whether the light of the fixed Stars be innate, or only borrowed from the Sun, we are not as yet certain. We do but guests at their real distance from us and among themselves. We speak rashly, and perhaps, upon not very good grounds, of their wonderful Rapidity and Swiftness. I shall say nothing of an infinite number of other things, that we can give no rational account of, as for Instance, of Antipathy, Sympathy, Poisons, and of that sort of Remedies, we call Specificks. If I chance to meet with two men I never saw before, I find myself more inclined to serve the one than the other, but why, I am to seek. As soon as the Lamb cometh into the World, it flieth from before the Wolf, as from a known Enemy: Now by what kind of Impulse or Impression, it behaves itself so rationally, I shall willingly learn from any of the Modern, or Ancient Philosophers. The strange effects of Poisons are but too well known, whereof some are quick, some are slow, some cold, and others hot. But they all agree in this, that they destroy at length the structure of our Bodies. I remember to have been present at the overture of a Lady, that had certainly been poisoned, which nevertheless we could not affirm by any visible Impressions made upon her inward Parts, the alteration made by this subtle Poison being quite insensible. I am of opinion that in this Life we shall never reach to a perfect knowledge of such odd pieces of Wonder. Let us then acknowledge that there is no true Philosophy in the World but Sceptisism; not that I take Sceptics here for men that doubt of every thing, yea, and of their own Existency too, for 'tis, perhaps, a vulgar Error to believe that there were ever any such in the World, and withal not mere Fools: I mean then by Sceptics those that are come to such a pitch of Knowledge, as to doubt rationally of every disputable matter, because seeing nothing under one light only, and looking narrowly into the reasons of both sides, they discover but some few, or more degrees of probability without the very Twilight of Evidence.   

SECT. VIII. The Character of a great Wit.  
1. That there are few great Wits.  
2. Who are not to be reckoned among the great Wits.  
3. The truest notion of a great Wit.  
4. That great Wits are Wary in their decisions, and not at all Dogmatical.  
5. The difference between Aristotle and Descartes.  
6. Thomas Aquinas upon what account to be most esteemed.  
1. I Doubt, if I may not say of great Wits, what Cicero says somewhere of great Orators, that scarce one was seen in an Age: For as Aristotle calls little men comely, but not beautiful, so likewise I take the most part of those that the World admires most, to be but jolly Wits, des esprits jolly, as not throughly deserving, because of some considerable deficiency, a more honourable Title, or rather not filling in all sense what is in rigour meant by a great Wit: For I conceive none to be such, who has received but one Talon, though in a just measure: Thus a man may be an excellent Poet, a skilful Astronomer, a good Geomatrician, a subtle Logician, and yet unfit for all other Sciences; such an one than can be reckoned but among the jolly Wits, and that is Honour enough for him. I do far less judge those to be great Wits, who understand nothing, but what is beyond common Sense and Understanding, as these Metaphysical Whymsies, abstracted Ideas, and Airy Notions, that fill the empty heads of some speculative Virtuoso's. Neither could I ever have a great Opinion of such, as preferring themselves before the rest of the World, condemn whatever flows not from their own Pen, or whatever is beyond the reach of their short Capacity. For this is no more than what the duller sort are equally capable of. I am likewise somewhat out of conceit with most of our Modern Philosophers, who will have none to be really Witty and Ingenious, but such as understand perfectly Mechanism, or the Texture and Structure of things, or how to knit, wove and knead one Corpuscle with another. For at this rate Apothecaries, Smiths and Bakers, and the rest of the Mechanical Tribe, are to be accounted true Philosophers. Yet I ever conceived Philosophy to be something beyond the reach of this common sort, and would be very loath to become either a Smith or a Baker, in order to gain the Honourable Name of a true Philosopher. I have a great respect, and I am forced to it by the very name, for what we call in England Divines, yet I look not upon them as great Wits, because if they be good Christians, they must renounce the use of their Wit, and believe the most inconceivable Mysteries of Religion upon no better ground, than the Simplest sort, that is upon the surest of all, the Authority of a Divine, tho' obscure Revelation. I conceive then to be short, no other Notion of a great Wit, than what Sceptisism affords me: Not that I mean a man that doubts of every thing, but rather one that can show demonstratively the incertitude of all disputable matters, those of Faith, with which we meddle not, laid aside. The doubts of such men are not mere Negative ones, for those are groundless, but rational, positive, and grounded upon such reasons as may demonstrate our little Capacity, and Insight into most disputable things. So as the greatest Wit of Angels, consists in knowing; the greatest Wit in Men consists in doubting: whoever than after a due consideration of any difficulty in what Subject soever seethe the Pro and the Con, or whatever may be find for maintaining either part of the contradiction so clearly, that he is forced to balance his understanding in the middle by an almost equal Weight of counterpoizing Reasons: This Man I say, and no other may assume to himself without Usurpation, the Name of a great Wit: You shall easily know him either by his discourse, or by his Writings. He is not of the Humour of certain Dogmatical Heads, who because they see things but under one light, undertake boldly to determine the greatest difficulties at the very first hearing of them. But the Man we are speaking of being wary and cautious, requires time to consult with himself about the matter, before he ventures to give a positive answer, which sometimes occasions the less understanding sort to take him to be none of the sharpest; and when he is come to a resolution upon the case proposed, his Decisions are so moderate, so prudent, and so far from being too daring and bold, that they scarce ever amount to more than to the determination of some degrees of probability, if the thing be really doubtful. I have always admired this Character in the Honourable Robert boil: 'Tis to be met with every where in his Writings, and is observable likewise in his discourse, if he be required an answer to any considerable difficulty. Yet if it chance that some Eminent Virtuosos express themselves sometimes in doubtful matters, as if they judged them evident, this is not to be wondered at, because as some Men cannot express well their Thoughts, others have such an easy utterance, that through the Heat of dispute, or quickness of imagination, they do often make use of Words signifying more, than really they intent. But generally speaking when you hear a man say, he can give an evident account for instance of the ebbing and flowing of the Sea, of the fits of the Ague, of the attractive faculty in the Loadstone, of the nature of Poisons, and Specificks whether exterior or interior, of the Origine of the Winds, of the solution of Gold by Aqua Regia, and not by Aqua fortis, of the solution of Silver by Aqua fortis, and not by Aqua Regia, and a thousand other abstruse difficulties of that nature; you may be sure that his insufficiency is nothing inferior to his vanity and presumption. I fall much short upon this account of the great Esteem some have for Discartes, because he pretends too much to evident Truths, and will have us before we are fit for his Philosophy, to make our Understanding Tabulamrasam, as a smooth board, capable of any Character by scraping out of it the Pictures of all things it was fraught with from our greener years, as if none had ever spoken Truth but himself, or as if our intellective faculty being thus naked, was not equally disposed to be wrought upon by error, as well as by Truth. Some of his Followers betray themselves to be but half witted, when they deny a thing, because Aristotle, whom they are not acquainted with, affirmed it, and pretended it to be an evident Truth, because forsooth Discartes held it.  
2. To do both these Philosophers right, though with the learnedst part of the World, I apprehend Aristotle to be far beyond Discartes, as to sharpness, depth, and penetrancy of Wit: They have spoken both many things to the purpose, and probable enough, and many others likewise with a greater appearance of falsehood than Truth. The main difference I find between them both only consists in this, that Aristotle undertook to debate and discuss matters beyond the reach of Humane Capacity. Such I reckon to be the Infinite, whether in number, or matter, the Divisibility and Composition both of the fluent and permanent continuum. Discartes speaketh of Matter and Motion, and things indeed less subtle, but more intelligible; yet I conceive his conclusions drawn from thence to be no demonstrations; and if any of his Disciples look upon them as such, I fear he is either prejudiced, or sees things but under one light: I have so good opinion of Discartes his Judgement, that I believe he intended not to give us a true demonstration of God in his Metaphisical Meditations, though grounded, if I misremember not, upon these two principles, first, that whatever we have, a clear and distinct Idea of, exists, or may exist. Secondly, that we have a clear and distinct Idea that God is in Nature. For I know not why I may not have a clear and distinct Idea of any impossible thing, since our Knowledge receiveth not so much its qualifications from its Object, as from the manner of its tendency towards the Object, which may be clear, tho' the Object be confused. Again, no man of good sense will take this proposition, Deus est, God exists, for one of those we call Notas per se, known immediately by their own self-evidence, without a Medium or reason to prove them. Nevertheless this must happen in our case, if we have a clear and distinct Idea of Gods being really existent in nature, or of his being possible: For if I conceive an infinite good possible, 'tis consequential that he really exists, since in this very notion the actual existency is included, as being a most material perfection.  
3. Let us not then impose upon ourselves, and take for demonstration by a certain Precipitation of judgement, what at the utmost beareth but a fair show of probability. I may methinks be allowable to mistrust a Man's Capacity, when he pretends to know all things to the bottom, or to say nothing, what is not either in itself, or by consequence clear and evident. I have always been a great admirer of Thomas Aquinas, the Angelical Doctor, and do look upon him as a transcending Wit, but merely upon this account, that he seems to be certain of nothing, though in Corpore articuli, he stands at length stiffly to one part of the contradiction, and answers the Arguments for the other. But you may easily gather both from the difficulties he proposeth to himself, and his answers that he pretended no more than to doubt rationally of disputable matters; and more than this cannot be expected from the capacity of Man, who has no comprehensive knowledge of natural things, as Angels have. I take then an ingenuous Ignorant to be of the most ingenious or knowing sort: I mean one that professeth sincerely he knoweth nothing certainly, but who withal, because of his penetrancy, and great Wit, can give a rational, though not a demonstrative account of every thing. Such an one I conceive capable to defend probably, and no further, whatever you may propose to him. For few things are to a man of this Character self-evident. He doubts not only of the possibility of ever doubling the Cub, or squaring the Circle, of fixing of Mercury, of making malleable Glass, etc. But he discovers without Telescops, Stains, and Spots in the very Stars themselves, I mean Obscurity, Falsehood, uncertainty in the clearest and most approved Notions, Errors, Mistakes, and sometimes flat Deviations from the Truth in the most accurate Authors. He neither admires the old Philosophy, nor dotes upon the New, but takes up the Cudgels indifferently for either, as it serves his turn, or his fancy. He is not always satisfied with what we call Mathematical Demonstrations, and discovers them often to be but false apparitions, imposing easily upon a weak understanding. He scrupleth at the vulgar Opinions, and values them no more than vulgar Errors. This is the Sentiment of an honourable Gentleman, whom I respect as a great Wit; I have heard him say more than once, that he found by experience the most vulgar Opinions to be flat untruths, which he has ingeniously proved to conviction in several of his most learned Books. Nevertheless, though such Men seem to be satisfied with nothing, not through Pride, for they are of the Humblest sort, but through Knowledge, yet they are desirous to learn from the meanest Capacities, as well knowing that their Understanding, how vast soever, is but of a limited extent, and not Omniscient. Tho' they be sparing of their Eulogiums, as admiring nothing, yet they are seldom guilty of detraction, of too much blaming, or rashly condemning other men's labours; and if Books receive their Fates from the Capacity of the Readers, 'tis a good Fortune for a well penned Piece to fall into such men's hands: for being great Artists themselves, they are the best Judges of Arts, and do praise moderately what they judge to deserve it, or say nothing at all of what they either cannot, or will not commend.   

SECT. IX. The Origine and Progress of Wit.  
1. The extent of Adam's Wit.  
2. The natural endowments of his mind, not destroyed by his Sins.  
3. That we own to the Egyptians, Arabians, Grecians, Romans, the greatest part of Humane Sciences.  
4. Of the Gymonosophists and Druids, and their Doctrine.  
5. That this present Age surpasseth all the foregoing Centuries, as to Wit, Knowledge and Learning.  
1. ADam was not only the first man in the World, but the first Wit: for as being the King of all other inferior Creatures, I do rationally fancy he was fitted to such an eminent Dignity, with proportionable Gifts, and Talents. This being Gods usual way of providing for his Creatures whensoever he minds to exalt them. I conceive then, first Adam's Understanding fraught with clear and distinct Ideas of all natural things. He was, I doubt not, a good Alchemist, and an ingenious Astronomer, an accurate Geometer, a subtle Logician, and a very acute Philosopher. But yet I cannot say that he was a very witty Husband, because of his too simple and blind complacency to his Wife, which occasioned his ruin, and that of his Posterity. We must not think nevertheless that his Fall darkened his Understanding, though it corrupted his will: For I suppose he was not unlike to the Angels, as to this point: of whom the Divines affirm, non sunt vulnerati in Naturalibus, after their Sin committed, they retained yet all their natural endowments, as not being wounded in their Intellectuals. He could then I fancy, and did really propagate to Posterity a part of his Wit and Knowledge: Not that I think Wit to be hereditary, since we know certainly by daily experience, that the most ingenious men beget sometimes the dullest Children. My meaning only is, that he taught his Sons and Daughters, what he himself never learned but from God immediately, so they became in a short time by his Instructions well versed in most Sciences, and skilful in all Arts, which they invented first for necessity's sake, and then for conveniency. Thus Wit flourished in the World as by a lineal descent, till the days of Noah: When all Flesh had corrupted their way, that is their Wit; Omnis caro corruperat viam suam. It was confined then in the Ark to a little number, and if the Ark had split, it had entirely perished. The Egyptians after the retreat of the Waters from above the Face of the Earth, claimed more right to it for several hundred years, than any other Nation of the World. Every Creature was to them a piece of Divinity, and what signified nothing to other Nations, represented to them profound Mysteries. Their Hierogliphics are evident proofs of their ingenious meditations. To them, as much as to the Arabians, we own the knowledge of Astronomy, and of most other Sciences: Yet as men are obnoxious to various changes, this most ingenious Nation became at length so dull, as to acknowledge, and worship Cats, Dogs and Rats for its Gods. But the Grecians succeeding in their Room, took upon them to be the great Instructers of the World, and were never equalled but by the Romans. I know not what to make of Plato, whether we should call him a God or a Man: I shall only say, he justly deserves to be styled Divine, Divinus Plato, because of his high Sentiments of God, and those Notable pieces of Divinity he has left to Posterity. Anacharsis, Anaxagoras, Pythagoras, Euclides, are really Stars of the first magnitude, and were the greatest Wits of their times: But the Romans at length subduing the Grecians, became their Masters, not only by the happy success of their Arms, but also by their Wit, Learning and Eloquence: For if we reflect but a moment upon the present condition of the Grecians, we shall instantly conclude, that whensoever the body is enslaved, the mind is commonly subdued, or at least loseth much of its natural vigour and sharpness, because of its dependency upon the body. The Athenians under the Roman Yoke were no more called then, as before, Scientiarum Omnium Inrentrices Athenae, the Inventors of all Arts and Sciences. The Muses had now deserted Athens to follow the Roman Conquerors, to the Imperial Seat of the World then, Rome. The Romans now on the other side began to propagate, together with their own Authority, Wit, and Knowledge, through the rest of the World; yet the Gymnosophists flourished before them, as some fancy in the East Ines. I know not what sort of Men they were, but if we believe the relations of some not unlearned Travellours, they taught not very impertinent Doctrines concerning another life, a Rewarder, and Punisher of Crimes, of the Existency, Omnisciency, Goodness and Immensity of God. 'Tis reported that they delighted much in that pleasant fancy of Transmigration of their Souls; which Doctrine I take to be most true in this Sense, that Men in all ages do arise so like unto those that have gone before them, as to Wit, Sharpness and Learning; that we must not quarrel much with such as admit a certain representative Metempsychosis, or Transmigration of Souls from one Body into another: Which I fancy was the Opinion of the First Transmigrators, and is conceived to have been the meaning of the Indian Gymnosophists. The Druids likewise, before ever the Roman Eagles appeared on this side of the Alps, were looked upon as great Wits among the Gauls. Yet I could learn almost nothing of this Tribe abroad, though I have been very inquisitive after their Doctrine, Discipline, and Manners, but that they lived in remote places, as upon Mountains, where I have seen some of their Monuments, and in Woods much resorted to, by the generality of the People that consulted them upon all occasions, and doubtful Cases, as Oracles. Yet I was informed that they held the World eternal, and thought it a self-evident Contradiction that any thing should be made of nothing. They could not admit in God any foresight of contingent effects, as altogether inconsistent in their Fancy with their Contingency. Nevertheless the Gauls were but a blunt and dull sort of People, under these self-conceited and speculative Masters. Yet no sooner the Romans had possessed themselves of the greatest part of the World, but the Gauls and most other Nations began to improve more particularly their Natural Talents.  
2. Nevertheless I believe, I shall not be contradicted, if I say that since the Roman Empire was torn asunder by its own divisions, and intestine Broils, Wit and Learning made a greater Progress in the World than ever they had done during the prosperous Days of the Roman greatness. For not to speak of Gunnery, Printing, Sailing, whereof either the Romans knew nothing at all, or never came near the skill of after Ages, they can pretend to no insight in Chemistry, and had made but few discoveries in Natural Philosophy, in compare to what the Wits of our Age have made in both, to the great benefit of Mankind. Yea I am of Opinion, that if Cicero came now into the World again, he would be forced to study afresh his own Tongue, and learn from us the new significations of many Latin Words, which we either borrow, or invent to express new things, and that were perhaps quite unknown to him: Such I reckon to be most Chemical terms, as Precipitation, Solution, Stratification, Volatisation, etc. Some of the Ancients I confess, were Eminent Mathematicians, as Ptolemy, Euclides, etc. But Methinks we have no reason to yield to them in this point; since besides many new things we have discovered that they never dreamt of; we may justly boast of the renowned Napers Divine Invention, I mean his admirable Logarithmes, whose Properties and Nature the more you study, the greater Wonders you shall meet with. I take this Divine Art, for I know no Elogium below it, to be the very Key of Mathematics. Since what formerly could not be done without long and tedious Multiplications and Divisions, may now be performed by a simple Addition and Substraction, Operations so easy, that a Man but of a mean Capacity may become capable in less than a days time, to teach them.  
3. I shall not forget here another no less curious, and more necessary piece of Wit, or regarding more nearly the common good. I have seen in France, Holland, Germany, many sad effects of what we call Herniam or Rupture: And being curious to know the best Methods of curing it, I conversed the renowneds● Artists, upon this account, in mos● parts of Europe: But could never be satisfied with what I either could invent myself, or learn from others▪ concerning the main Instruments made use of in this important cure, I mean the Trusses, whether umbilical, o● others. But all my doubts were full● cleared, and my curiosity entirely satisfied, since I met with Mr. Smith ● Scotch Gentleman, living in the Blackfriars, in London. To do him justice, without the least design of e●ther interest or concern, I never met with any either at home or abroad comparable to him in the Art and Skill of curing this sad Distemper. I conceive his chief Secret to consist in two things. First, in making Trusses so light and easy to carry, that whereas others sometimes weigh several Pounds, whereof I have seen one in his own House, his exceed not nine or ten Ounces. Secondly, so fitted to the Body, that they follow exexactly its movement whether violent or natural, as if they were incorporated in a manner to the Person that wears them. He designs to publish at conveneniency his Method, which undoubtedly will prove a great common Good. But I should weary out your patience, would I be at the pains to set down here all the great advantages of this Age we live in, above the foregoing Centuries. Though the Ancient Romans may justly pretend to have been greater Masters of the Latin Tongue than we are now: Yet I can instance three Linguists near our times, that may justly be reckoned among the purests of the Polite Age of Augustus, I mean Buchanan, Petavius, Maffeius. The first is well known, and is most natural and smooth, whether he writes Verse or Prose: upon his account it was said, that 
Romani Imperii fuit olim Scotia limbs  
Romani eloquii Scotia limbs erit.   
His Translation of the Psalms is as far beyond that of Father Magnet's, the Jesuit, as a Masterpiece is before the mere Rudiment of a Apprentice. Petavius and Maffeius, so well known all the Learned World over, may be ranged with those of the Primitive times for the Purity of their Style: But however, though we may yield to the Romans in this point, and grant that they knew their own Tongue better than Foreigners, yet we shall ever pretend the Advantage in several other things, of great Wit. Our Warlike Engines, our Artificial Fireworks, as Bombs, Carcases, Grenads; Our Telescops, Microscops, etc. and a thousand other obvious pieces of Art to be met with in every corner of Europe, do manifestly show that our times are improved, if not perhaps in Virtue, at least in real Knowledge, far beyond all the foregoing Ages.   

SECT. X. The abuse of Wit.  
1. That we make sometimes a good use of bad things.  
2. The common and general Cheats put upon Men by Tradesmen, Lawyers, and others.  
3. Interest, the Primum mobile of Mankind.  
4. The vain and unsuccessful attempts of Learned Men.  
5. The fruitless labours of such as search after the Philosopher's Stone.  
6. The Vanity of Judiciary Astrology.  
7. That the Angels know not the Secrets of our Hearts, and why.  
8. That private Men ought not to meddle with Public affairs.  
1. WE do often make an ill use of the best things, as also sometime a good use of the worst. Thus that great Overthrower of the Texture of Humane Bodies, Poison, we turn into wholesome Remedies, and Powerful Antidotes. I know nothing worse than Sin, which nevertheless has proved an occasion of Salvation to many through Humility and Humiliation, its ordinary Effects. St. Peter was never truly humble, till by a flat denial of his Saviour, he became experimentally sensible of his own Weakness. St. Thomas' Incredulity, or misbelief, wrought not only in him an increase of Faith, but likewise in the rest of the Christian World. For I look upon it as a most powerful inductive to believe the Mystery of the Resurrection, because it occasioned the Conviction of those that then doubted of this Important truth, or might perhaps in after times doubt of it. For who can hereafter mistrust this point, if he reflects but a moment with what evidence Christ proved to St. Thomas the Realty of his Body: But now 'tis as true on the other side, as I was saying a little before, that we misuse sometimes the best things, as a sickly and disorderly constitution turns the best Food not into a good Substance, but into pernicious Venom. Thus Wit, the Noblest of Natural Gifts, is made often an Instrument of all kind of Wickedness. I conceive it was not said of the Devil only, Circuit tanquam Leo rugens querens quam devores, That he runs to and fro like a roaring Lion, to pray upon, and devour the first he meets with. This is likewise the chief and ordinary business of most Men in this corrupted age we live in. Some indeed like Roaring Lions hold the World in a perpetual Stir, and Fear, by claiming right to whatever they can reach by their Arms. Others again make not an open War like Lions, but more crafty like Foxes, lay secret Ambushes to their unthinking Neighbours. I would wish there were no Tradesmen in the World, if Men could live as well without them. I know indeed they are thought necessary for the Good and Benefit of Mankind; but the unjust measures they use sometimes for their own private ends, under pretence of promoting the Common Good, makes me speak thus, and wish we could want them. For I am of Opinion, that to trade with many, and to Cheat, are much about one. I shall not except that Noble, and necessary Art I do profess myself, wherein I wish the number of able, and Conscientious Men, did equal that of mere Pretenders, and bold Adventurers. I doubt not but there are Good Men of all Trades as of all Religions; yet I have known some Godly Tradesmen, as to their outside, prove at length the greatest Cheats under Heaven. They had no doubt read in Scripture this passage, Vtilis ad omnia pietas, that Piety is useful for everything: Whence they concluded, that it might be useful for the gaining of Money too, the best of things in their Conceit: and accordingly thought it a piece of Folly and not of Wit, to adventure the cutting of a Purse in the Highway, since they could do it with greater security, and certainly by long Prayers, reformed Looks, or by whatever they might gain the esteem of those they dealed withal, and could expect any thing from.  
2. I shall say nothing of the Divers and manifold tricks of Lawyers, who become often on a sudden very rich, though by the Law, yet very unlawfully. If men were not mad, they would undoubtedly agree among themselves, and give them less to do: It was not the only sad effect of Original Sin, that our Bodies should be obnoxious to the cruel handling of some Physicians, and our Souls to the interested decisions of fanciful Casuists, but likewise that our Goods, Substance and Riches, should be plundered and pillaged, by those very Men who pretend to secure them to us by: certain Methods of equity and Justice: But this disorder, I mean this perpetual reflex upon our own private concerns, is not only to be met with in Atrio, in the outer Court, but 'tis got into the very Sanctuary itself, into the Church, and Pulpit, where no such thing should be expected. I doubt not but if we could see into the Breasts of several Preachers, we should there discover that their greatest Zeal aims either at some Preferment, if they have none, or a fatter one than that they are possessed of. Neither do I fear the guilt of a rash Judgement, by speaking thus freely my mind, since 'tis commonly said, though perhaps it be but a mere calumny, that Churchmen discourse more together of their Live, than of the means how to amend their own, perhaps, or other men's irregular lives. Yet I will charitably suppose that this is but the defect of some few particular Men, and not of the Generality: For I do less wonder to see a debauched Clergyman, than a Judas amongst Christ's Apostles. Nevertheless I pretend not that Clergymen, as well as others, may not make use of their Wit for their peculiar ends: I allow them then to preach either for a Benefice, or for a better Benefice, provided this be but their Secondary Motive, and not the first mover of all their Actions, or provided perhaps, by being enabled to do more good, they pretend to glorify God more in a Higher Condition, than in a lower: In all this I conceive nothing Irregular: Neither do I deny but that an ingenious Tradesman may, and aught to gain by his Ingenuity, cheating only, and the Art of Circumventing one another, I condemn; which I observe to be but too usual among 'em: For if they have to do with a man that either understands not their Tricks, or ingeniously relies upon their Word, and Honesty, 'tis odds but consulting their dearly beloved Interest, more than what Justice requires of them, they will pretend to have used him kindly, as they speak, when they have really put a Cheat upon him. But as the eclipses of some Stars argue not a general darkness in all the rest, what I lately said of Churchmen, may likewise be understood of Mechanics, and all Tradesmen, whereof several are Conscientious, and well meaning Men, so well grounded in the Maxims of true Honour and Honesty, that they would not for all the World have done a base thing.  
3. I am satisfied that men misuse not only these ingenious faculties they have received from God to the Corruption of their Morals, but likewise to the intangling and depraving of their Intellectuals. I laugh more at, than I do pity the unsuccessful attempts of such as pretend to give us a true Notion of the Infinite, that is of a thing infinitely above the reach of our conceiving Faculty, or to inform the World with Aristotle, what or how many parts either time or matter is compounded of. Descartes, if not so subtle as Aristotle, is in my Judgement more prudent, for having left untouched such insolvable, and useless Difficulties. The Pompous Notions of Eternity, as a perpetuum nunc, a perpetual Instant, instans infinitum, an infinite Instant, Instans immobile, an immovable moment, Vitae interminabilis tota simul ac perfecta possessio, a perfect and whole possession all at once of an interminable life, are but vain and airy Conceits, fit to embroil our Understandings, than to give them any New, or real Light towards the discovery of the Object they propose. We may truly say of Eternity what an ancient Philosopher said of God, the more we think on it, the less we know what it is; which may be likewise applied to many other things, commonly thought less inconceivable, as to time, place, motion and matter, whereof as I have never read any satisfactory Notions, so I think it not worth my while to make any new attempts about a Subject which I humbly conceive to be some degrees beyond the reach of my weak Abilities. What a strange conceit is it in some to consume whole years, and the greatest part of their days in searching a perpetual movement, & at the same time wholly artificial: A French Jesuit spent unsuccessfully a part of his Life, and a considerable Sum of Money in this vain attempt, and coming at length without having found out the eternal movement, to his last end, and eternal rest, reaped no other thing by the continual, and long Labours of his Life, but this pleasant Epitaph after his Death, Patri quaerenti motum perpetuum requies aeterna.  
4. I take it likewise to be a loss of time, which I would not value, if it proved not also sometimes the loss of men's Fortunes, to search after, though perhaps it may be found out what they call commonly the Philosopher's Stone. A Man of a great Estate, who died at length in an Hospital, said, a little before his Death, he could wish his most implacable Enemy no greater misforfortune than to become an Alchemist, or a Chrysopeian, I mean one that endeavours to find out the Texture necessary for the constitution of a true Gold: This Texture I fancy is known to the Angels, whether good or bad, because they have an intutive and comprehensive Knowledge too, in some degrees, of the whole Creation: But I have just reason to doubt if any Man has as yet stumbled upon it: And which makes equally for my purpose, though we were certain to find out at length this wonderful Art, all would be in vain and lost labour, yea, and of a dangerous consequence too. Because Princes being justly jealous of such industrious Artists, would either use them hardly, or keep them in perpetual Prison, lest they should furnish their Enemies, or their subjects with an easy Method of Heaping up Treasures; which would render them less considerable, by dividing thus into many hands, and in great quantities, the things they are most courted, and respected for by the vulgar sort, Gold and Silver. But I conceive no worse use of Wit, than to be busy about acquiring too much insight in Judiciary Astrology, which a man cannot be entirely addicted to, without being already come to the Years of Dotage in the Opinion of the Wiser sort. I often do wonder how rational Men are not deterred from the Study of this vain Science, by the very weakness of its imaginary Principles, and suffer not themselves to be laughed out of it, by the notoriously false predictions of such as have pretended to the greatest insight in this matter. The Great Duke's Mule is a known Story; whose Horoscope being enquired for under the Notion of a Bastard from those that were then esteemed most eminent in Judiciary Astrology; the import of their answer was not only what really was not to come to pass, but what could never happen: For some promised to this pretended Bastard the Empire, others the Triple Crown, some would needs have him to become one day a great Lawyer, others a great Captain, and others again a Saint. So extreme was the folly of those Irregular Heads, who deserved not only to be pointed at for their insufferable Vanity, but likewise to be severely punished for daring to thrust upon the World at this rate these flat untruths, and presuming to play the Prophets, without the least proof of their being inspired, or so much as of a sufficient Capacity for the Framing of probable conjectures.  
4. 'Tis not only in my Judgement a Sin which we should chief fear, to consult with Magicians and Witches, if there be any, concerning contingent effects and contingencies; especially such as depend upon the free determination of our wills, which the Angels, of whatsoever colour, if I may so say, know no more than I do. Though because of their natural acuteness, they guess a great deal nearer what we are to determine ourselves to, by the present Temper and Disposition of our Bodies. I know indeed that the innate perfection o● the Angelical Nature, as all Divines generally teach, requireth a perfect Knowledge of our free Determinations, as well as of our necessary ones. But I am told likewise by the greatest Masters of Divinity, that God never concurs with them to such a Knowledge, because he is resolved to maintain the privilege o● Mankind, whose Prerogative it is, as of other Commonwealths, to have all Freedom, either of concealing from, or communicating to Foreigners their Secrets. Thus if I address my Thoughts to the Devil, or to an Angel, I do not improbably think, that God being now free by my consent, and yielding up my right from that Obligation he has put upon himself, the Angel really knows, and understands what I think; but if I do not direct after this manner my Thoughts, or will not discover them to any other Creature: God has put a tye upon himself, grounded upon the Privilege of a Free Commonwealth, as that of Mankind is, not to lend a helping hand to the Discovery of my secret Thoughts. Since then the Devil cannot at the utmost frame but very weak conjectures of things to come, especially if they be contingent: It is not only useless, but a not ordinary piece of madness, to take advice from, and consult with them, who in all appearance have first consulted him.  
5. There are other things of great Moment, wherein we may misapply our Wit, and spend our time not only to no purpose, but likewise to our great damage too. I am for instance but a private Man, and a very inconsiderable Member of the Commonwealth too, so as it never was my Lot, nor in all appearance ever will be, to share with others that deserve it better in the Government of State Affairs; yet if I am as the Traitor Holloway said of himself, a too public Spirited Man, pretending to meddle with things that I am not answerable for, as not being entrusted to my Charge, I neither do in this case behave myself, as if I were either Witty, or wise. What a piece of folly is it then to censure the Actions of our Lord and Sovereign, because perhaps they square not to the fanciful conceits of our irregular Heads. For since we can never in reason suppose but that he aims at nothing more than the Peace, Happiness, and common good of the Nation, as being inseparable from his own concerns, and welfare: if you perhaps through a criminal mistake chance to be of another Opinion; you may certainly conclude from thence that you understand not the Public concerns so well as he does, who sits at the Helm, and is by God's special command to watch over us all, as a Flock committed to his vigilancy and trust.  
As the Stones cut by the prescript of an Archytect into Triangles, Squares, Cubes, Pyramids, know not why they are thus shaped: For this being the business of the Architect, or Master Mason, who has conceived a clear and distinct Idea of the whole Building, he order accordingly whatever he thinks fitting for the completing thereof. Should then those Stones to follow out this comparison, complain of their being cut after this, or that manner, or of their not being set in the Frontespiece, rather than in some inconsiderable corner of the Building: Would this in your opinion, be either rational or sufferable, since they know nothing of the Undertakers design. We run yet much more counter to reason, and the Subordination that God has established in this World, when we presume to set up for Judges of our Sovereign, or dare to question upon what account he does this or that, issue out this or that Order, as if we understood better than he, the Public Interest, which God has entrusted to him, not to us. We shall never then be useful Members to the Commonwealth we make a part of, unless we keep within the bounds of our Respective Stations. 'Tis then safe and a greater piece of Wit in a Tradesman for instance, to mind his business, and Domestic concerns, rather than to asperse th● Government by his malicious reflections, or which is yet worse, to writ seditious Pamphlets, and calumniatory Libels in opposition to his Superiors. Such Men have a great account to render one day to God for this disorderly use of their Wit. I conceive the Devil himself with his Hellish Tribe, to be but in one point worse than those troublesome Spirits; that he is not capable of Repentance. But I need not enlarge on this Subject, since to the great advantage of the established Government, 'tis daily handled with so much accuracy by that very ingenious, and truly Loyal Gentleman, Sir Roger L' Estrange.   

SECT. XI. The use of Wit.  
1. That Wit is sometimes the occasion of great disorders.  
2. That a witty man may live happily in a solitude.  
3. That the common word, Man is a sociable Animal, is only to be understood of the duller sort.  
4. The Duty of a Christian.  
5. That the clear light of Reason may contribute somewhat towards the increase of the dark Light of Faith.  
6. Divine revelation to be proposed by, and received from the Universal Church.  
7. The vulgar Error, that of three Physicians, two are Atheists confuted.  
8. The foresaid Reproach pressed home to some Divines, especially to those of the Romish Church, with a greater appearance of Truth.  
9 The usefulness of natural Philosophy, and the best method of Learning.  
10. That we must conform our Discourse to those we converse with; and not make an affected show of Wit before the duller Sort.  
1. IT may be a Paradox, though no untruth, that Wit is the worst of God's Gifts bestowed upon Mankind, if we Judge a thing bad, that either is the occasion or cause of evil, and mischief: For it is not only the Headwel of Rebellion, Sedition, and Heresy, which we may easily discover, whether we reflect upon our times, or by a start backwards take a view of the foregoing Ages; but 'tis also the Inventor of those innumerable Engines made use of by men for the Ruin of Mankind, under pretence either of a necessary defence, or just attack: Yet as by Malice, or misapplication, it may be a fit Instrument for evil; so if we turn it once the right way, it may prove the most useful, as undoubtedly it is the most shining participation of the Divine Nature. And I know not why Aristotle said, that a Man who can live in a retired solitude, must be either a God, or a Beast: Since for this I conceive nothing else requisite but a not too narrow Wit: For Spiritualis homo omnia judicat, the Spiritual Man, that's the Witty, discerns, and makes use of every thing. Of such an one 'tis truly said, Nunquam minus solus quam cum solus, that he is never in better company, than when he is with no body; for then in his retired Thoughts he calls himself to an account, and examines severely all his own actions, thoughts and Words. I know not then whereupon 'tis grounded, that a Man is a sociable Animal, and loves to live together with his like in Nature and Shape. For I have always observed the wittiest sort of men to delight more in their retired Solitudes, than in the greatest Crowds. If this common Maxim be not a vulgar Error, as I believe 'tis none, it cannot be understood but of the duller Sort, who being once alone, are in all sense alone, and with no body, because they are no Company to themselves; I mean they know not how to play the time away, with what either is within or without themselves: But such as can act the Philosopher's part with whatever they see, feel, or touch, do neither need, or incline much to converse except perhaps those that are of a no less, or rather of greater Abilities than themselves. Nay Books to such men are not necessary Companions in their Retirements: For they can want their Company too, though not so well as that of Men. One of these three they are always conversant with, themselves, God, or the Obvious Works of his Power, that are without us. I conceive not, 'tis true, what God is; for how should he be what he is, if I could comprehend him, yet I may apprehend him to be a being infinitely perfect: that is to say, whose perfections are numberless. I need not then, if I please, want a Subject to think on when alone, if considering apart those perfections one after another; I measure, as far as I can reach, their dimensions, their length, their breadth, and their depth. So I shall now meditate upon his Power, and then contemplate the strange effects thereof in the works of the Creation, which I shall always conceive infinitely below what he could have done, or may yet do. I shall again represent to myself, though very imperfectly, the brightness of his Glory in the Sun, Moon and Stars, his constancy in the Earth▪ his activity in the Fire, the depth of his Essence in the bottomless Seas, and the least of his Creatures shall be unto me a fair Copy of his Wisdom, Goodness, and other Perfections.  
2. But if I make no other use of my Wit than this, I am but a mere Moralist, and not a Christian; for as such I must lay aside my Philosophy, and believe what I conceive not upon the infallible Authority of an obscure Revelation. Nevertheless, tho' my Religion forbids me to play the Philosopher, yet if I pretend to a rational belief, I presume nothing against its true Maxims. As I look then upon the mere light of Faith to be somewhat dark, so I know the light of reason to be somewhat clearer: May not I then join those two Lights together, and make perhaps a greater one of them both? I believe the mystery of the Trinity, though I comprehend it not; I think it not unlawful to slatter my own Weakness with the discovery of some Rudiments thereof in my Soul, as being one in Nature, and threefold in Operation, I mean, as having three distinct Faculties, the Memory, Understanding and Will. The Incarnation is above the reach of an Angelical Understanding: The Angels themselves by the mere light of Nature could not but judge it impossible. 'Tis a strange Metamorphosis, that faith only teacheth me to be real. Style me not nevertheless quite impertinent, if for my own satisfaction I endeavour to persuade to myself the possibility thereof, by what I see daily in Nature, in the grafting of one Tree upon another, so that two Natures become now but one by union, and one almost individual Principle of their Common Productions. The resurrection of our Bodies, or that after so many Changes, and different Shapes of Worms, Serpents, Birds, Fishes, or whatever may feed upon us, we shall be at length our numerical selves again, is a thing that I incline to believe upon experience, when I observe some Liquors or Waters, perfectly corrupted, to recover themselves, though neither this, nor the foregoing Motives, could ever make me a Christian without the Authority of Divine Revelation, which I neither take from the Romish, English, nor Greek, but from the Catholic and Universal Church, conceived by the Unbyass'd and Understanding sort to be compounded of all such, and the like particular true Christian Assemblies. Thus what all true Christians grant, and never debated, this and no other I take to be an article of Divine Faith, necessary to Salvation, if sufficiently proposed. I look upon the rest as Supernumerary, or at the utmost as probable opinions, that may be disputed to and fro amongst Schoolmen, but ought not to be imposed upon Christians, as Articles of Divine Faith, without the belief of which, their Names are razed out of the Book of Life. I believe then not only that there is a Catholic Church, Credo Ecclesiam Catholicam, but likewise, Credo Ecclesiae Catholicae, I believe whatever it unamiously decides: for, Audi Ecclesiam, harken to the Church, is a true obligation, but the Romanist is extremely prejudiced, when he means always the Romish Church, as if it were, as it now stands, truly universal; whereas 'tis but a Member, and a very unsound one too of that great Body, we must all submit to. I have observed another common mistake of the less discerning Sort of Romanists, which is this, They pretend to a considerable advantage over Protestants from Antiquity, but reflect not that their Church is no otherwise distinguished from the reformed part of the World, than by mere Novelties, and Mysteries unheard of in the first three Centuries: For I know no other material difference between a Protestant and a Romanist, but that the former adheres closely to the Doctrine of the Primitive times, whereas the latter takes for an articie of Divine Faith, not only what the universal Church held from all times, but whatever the particular Church of Rome hath declared since to be revealed. Yet because I was ever of opinion that every man must stand, or fall by the verdict of his own Conscience; I think it neither fit, nor a good use of Wit to quarrel with any man upon the account of his Religion.  
3. I shall therefore do better perhaps, to clear in this point those of my own Profession, I mean the Physicians, from a foul and too general aspersion of the vulgar sort, alleging that they are not much concerned with what we call Religion. For 'tis commonly, to our great scandal said, Ex tribus medicis duo Athei, that of three Physicians there are but two Atheists. I am without Prejudice, of a quite contrary opinion, and think it no Paradox to say, that none are so Religious as Physicians, or at least, that none have greater opportunities to raise their Souls to the highest Degree of Perfection: Which if I prove to conviction, nothing more can rationally be required for the taking away this general scandal of our Profession. What I shall say of Physicians must needs be understood of their near Relations, the natural Philosophers, who likewise, if we credit the bigoted part of Mankind, are no great Patrons of either Virtue or Religion.  
Would one think that two contrary Causes could have the same Influence, or the same effect, yet nothing more conformable to Truth. Thus I hold that as ignorance is commonly the Mother of Devotion in most men, I mean in the duller sort of Mankind; so Knowledge, the opposite extreme, begets undoubtedly Piety and Religion, in such as have eyes to discover God in the Works of his Power. But who has a greater conveniency for making of such useful Discoveries than Physicians, whether we consider the Object of their Art, or the Subject thereof. The former I take to be, whatever is contained in the three Kingdoms, as they speak, in the Animal, Vegetative and Mineral: where they cannot but admire that Sovereign being, Fatherly Providence over Mankind, in the production of whatever may prove instrumental to the conservation of our Health and Life. The latter I apprehend to be no other than that wonderful Engine of our Body, whose wonderful Structure may furnish them with higher Sentiments of God, than that of the Universe itself. Thus a Physician considering this most ingenious Fabric, cannot but raise his thoughts towards the Maker thereof. For no man in his Wits will take the Coition, or rather Cohalition of all the parts of our Body into such a comely and proportionable texture, to be mere fortuitous, and not the real effect of Art and Wisdom. I know not then whereon is grounded the general prejudice against this noble and necessary Science, which the Divines themselves, especially those of the Romish persuasion seem to be more concerned in than Physicians. For he was not perhaps guilty of a very flat untruth, who inverting thus the common word said, Ex tribus Theologici duo Athei, That of three Divines its odds but two are Atheists, or in my less severe judgement perhaps, mere Deists; because pretending sometimes to circumscribe our Mysteries within the Circumference of their narrow Understandings; they often fall from believing, what by their Weak Reason they cannot reach, and so turning Christianism into Deism, they cease to be in their Hearts what for interest sake they make an outward Profession of. The Romish Divines, to the great Scandal of the World, busy themselves in their Schools, in laying open the Arguments that humane acuteness may frame against the possibility of Christ's Incarnation; as if their answers grounded upon these obscure principles of Faith, could prove evident confutations of such Objections, as seem to us to rely upon Evidence. I know no shorter way than this to Deism, and thence by degrees to Atheism; when they teach that the most illuminate Angel could not by the mere light of Nature fall into the least suspicion of the possibility of an Hypostatical Union; do they not give occasion to the weaker sort to think that this Mystery is not only above, but against reason? Yet I was scandalised at nothing more than neither to hear, nor propose any demonstration of the existency of God, which they pretend not to confute with a show of probability, as if Atheism were a probable opinion, which seems to be the consequence of their Doctrine; for though each one claims to a demonstration of Gods being actually in nature, yet not two do ever agree upon the same: what the one affirms, the other denies with equal grounds, as he pretends, from Reason: So that by their principles they must hold it probable that there is no demonstration of a Sovereign Being, which I look upon as a dangerous, and a too bold Assertion.  
4. The only then profitable use of Wit in such matters of Religion as overreach our weak Capacity, consists in captivating our Understanding by an humble submission to the belief of the Universal Church.  
As to other inferior Subjects, I know nothing fit to improve our Intellectuals, than the Study of natural Philosophy: For it filleth not our Heads with vain and airy Notions, with insignificant School Terms, and Pedantic Niceties, but aims at the promoting in us of real Knowledge: Yet I am not so much out of conceit with the School Doctrine, as to put no value upon it at all. That part of it they call artificial Logic, I apprehend not only to be useful, but necessary for the quickening of our discoursing Faculty: for I have always observed such as understand not the Art of a Syllogism, or the Aristotalian Method of drawing Coherent Conclusions, to raise often very illegal Inferences, which you can scarce make them sensible of, because being not acquainted with the general, and particular Laws of a formal discourse; they seldom distinguish between what is concluded vi formae, as they speak, and what is only concluded vi materiae. I mean when a proposition is essentially true, and because of its dependency upon another, and only accidentally, or because of the Subject it expresseth. Yet I am of opinion that the Analytick Method is to be preferred before the Syllogistick, because, besides that the former, mean of analysie and resolution contains, if well managed, the Substance of the latter; it bringeth along with it more Ornaments than is consistent with naked Enthimema's, & harsh Syllogysms. I know not nevertheless if any of these Methods be fit for young Beginners; for I incline much to think, that our Imagination, tho' generally stronger in our greener years, than our Judgement, yet being more various and changeable than in our Riper Days, must needs first of all be brought to some degree of consistency: which may easily be done by following the custom of some Ancient Masters, who would have their Scholars to learn first the Mathematics, as the easiest Principles and Demonstrations both of practical and speculative Geometry; Not so much upon the account of the great Evidence of such Sciences, as chief because they depend upon Figure and Proportion, two things necessary and sufficient for the fixing of our inconstant Imaginations.  
5. I have no more to say of the use of Wit at present, except what may regard our familiar and daily Conversations: We are then to reflect with whom we have to do: For if they be really our Masters in all sense, or judged generally beyond the common reach; whatever abilities we find ourselves gifted with, we must rather keep them close than display them vainly in their presence, lest we seem either to think too much of ourselves, or not enough of them: To whom, as occasion serves, we ought to pay without flattery, the Homage due to their grand Genius's. If perchance we converse with those that we judge not superior to ourselves, we may take more Freedom, but if we are in Company of the duller sort, we must conform our Discourses to their Capacity, and not to our own. For to behave ourselves otherwise, I mean to endeavour in our Converse with such men, to say nothing but what carrieth along with it a certain Character of Wit, and Sharpness, would be a no less piece of Folly then, as they commonly say, Projicere Margaritas ante porcos, to cast Pearls before Swine because they could neither digest, nor be sensible of such a Spiritual Food. I remember upon this occasion a passage of two Gentlemen, who hearing a third say, that an Ambassador was an Honourable Spy, opposed warmly this expression, as carrying in its Front an apparent Contradiction, and that an honourable Spy could amount to nothing more than an Honourable Rogue. Though they seemed to be ingenious enough, yet they could not be made sensible of their mistake, nor conceive somewhat of Wit in this reflecting way of speaking, and more Sense too than every mean Capacity is ware of.   

SECT. XII. That great Wits are not at all times equally Witty.  
1. Several imperfections of great Wits, and why they make not always use of their Wit.  
2. That our Passions are great obstacles to the exercise of our Wit.  
3. Some particular causes of our accidental dulness.  
4. A wholesome advice to Patients.  
5. The cause why sometimes they recover not, or not so soon.  
6. Several notable defects observable in some famous Writers.  
7. An advice to such as write Books.  
1. AS I conceive nothing to be of a long continuance that may have an end, so I think nothing in rigour perfect, that contains not all Imaginable perfections; I know not then why we should call any man perfect, and not rather in compare to others less Imperfect; since the imperfection of Mankind consists not only in the real want of several perfections, but likewise in this, that men are not always capable of making use of these great Abilities, that God perhaps has bestowed liberally upon them, which may, and does frequently happen upon several accounts.  
First, because the perfectest Soul in the World is but of a limited Capacity, and consequently cannot at all moments apply itself to every Object with an equal attention: For Pluribus intentus minor est ad singula Sensus, the more objects we consider of at once, the less notice we take of each one in particular. And if it be true that some of the Ancients, as Caesar, if I misremember not, could write, speak, and dictate at the same time; sure I am, he could perform neither of the three, with that acuracy, had he done either of them severally. 'Tis then the prerogative of a Sovereign being only to understand all things equally; the perpetual contemplation of his own essence not hindering him from looking into the Secrets of our Hearts, and weighing the least of our Thoughts: Men then even the Wittiest sort, by reason of their limited abilities, when too much applied to one object, seem to forget all others: And thus discovering their own Weakness, become sometimes a Subject of laughter and sport to those they chance to converse with. St. Thomas, deservedly called the Angel of the School, was looked upon as very dull and simple, when at the Emperor's Table he broke out on a sudden into these words, Conclusum est contra Manacheos, the Conviction of the Manichees! Or it's concluded against the Minachees, which though reported by some as a sign of his profound Wit, and great Capacity; I take in the quite contrary, to be an infallible mark of a very limited Genius, as not being capable of performing two things at the same time: But the most observable deficiency of those Men, we esteem great Wits, lies here, that they are not only not equally capable of many things at once, but what sometimes they can do to admiration, they are again within a short time entirely unfit for. Thus a man's converse will be often charmingly pleasant, and witty, whom you shall find at other times dull and heavy. Which I may in Second Instance suppose to proceed from a certain necessary, or voluntary Wearyness of the Soul: For I see no cause why it may not fall weary, as well as the Body. The difference only is that the latter becomes weary because of the loss of its most lively parts, the Spirits; the former because of its limited nature, and weak faculties, or rather through a natural desire of change and variety. Thirdly, we are not ourselves upon all occasions, because of our too green and domineering passions: whether they be of sorrow, envy, hatred or anger, which turn all our natural sharpness and Vivacity into malicious contrivances, and fits of Fury. When we have conceived an extreme aversion from any person, by inveighing against him upon all occasions, we show no more Wit than can be expected from a scolding Woman: No wonder then if we cease sometimes to be ingenious, since we are often overruled by our undaunted passions, which overthrow yet more the inward temper of our Souls, than the outward Texture of our Bodies. Nevertheless we must confess that it is not always in our Power, either to speak or write wittily at all times, or with that accuracy we are really capable of. The Great Homer is not always himself, but sometimes of a dull and sleepy Humour, Quandoque bonus dormitàt Homerus; but I understand Mankind better than to wonder at such accidental deficiencies in the greatest Men, because I am sensible of this common, but most true Word, Nemo omnibus horis sapit, No man has always his Wits about him. For as the very change of Wether changeth sometimes the Temper of our Bodies, so it does alter that of our Souls: We shall then at some Hours of the day both write, and speak easily, and wittily too, good sense: At some others, we may scratch our heads long enough before we awaken, and revive again our almost dead Spirits. Which gives me occasion sometimes to think, though no just grounds, that our Soul is really material, and of a very changeable Texture too, since it passeth so easily, and in such a short time from one extreme to another: For I would conceive in its supposed Spiritual Nature, a more constant and durable Temper. Yet I apprehend that several things may occasion in us this accidental dulness: And first, the very Company we converse with, either we esteem not enough, or too much. In the former case we want encouragement to endeavour to show our Wit, because we think not those we speak to worth our while, or deserving our peculiar application: In the latter we are kept in awe by a prudent fear of the Censure, and inward slight of such as we have a high Esteem, and Veneration for. But as I know nothing more prejudicial to Wit, than Want and Poverty; so I conceive those common Sentences, Ingenii largitor venture, vexatio dat intellectum, etc. that Hunger, Vexation and Trouble do make men witty, to be but mere illusions, and vulgar Errors grounded only upon this, that the very dullest of Men in great Straits will make odd shifts to rid themselves of the present Necessity. We must needs then confess, Virtutibus Obstat res augusta domi, That a light Purse, as the Scots say, makes a heavy Heart, and very unfit to exert those not ordinary Abilities we are perhaps gifted with. Besides, such is the Nature of Mankind, that without some encouragement, or prospect of reward, 'tis not in our Power to do our utmost endeavours in any enterprise whatsoever.  
2. I pretend to no extraordinary Skill in Physic, yet I know no curable distemper; but methinks I could cure, provided I want not the necessary encouragements from my Patient, which if you look upon as a piece of Covetousness, you discover more of a censuring, than of a sharp and considering Genius: For as it is highly my concern, that you recover your Health by my care. So I cannot but desire your recovery most earnestly, tho' I expected no just salary for my laudable endeavours: Whereby I intent only to give this wholesome advice to the Patient, as much for his concern, as for the Physician's interest, that if he fail to do his duty, 'tis odds if the other, how conscientious and skilful soever perform successfully his part, not designedly, nor through Malice, but because such is the natural constitution of Men, that they cannot serve God himself but upon the account of some proportionable reward. So if you would have your Physician take notice of every particular circumstance of your distemper, to apply usefully his Skill for your recovery, it will be a piece of Wit in you not to let him want too long his due. For else it will not be in his Power to make use, to your advantage, of that Wit God has given him, because you encourage him not, by doing what he justly expects, and may lawfully require. I doubt not but more Patients have perished through their own narrowness, than by either the Ignorance, or wilful neglect of their Physicians.  
3. I know not why some Nations now, as the Grecians, and others, produce scarce a Wit in an Age, which formerly were in so great repute throughout the whole World, but because they are not awakened out of their Lethargy by that powerful inductive to do great things, a proportionable reward, which may quicken them into life again those, whose Wits seem to be buried in their Bodies. So those Princes that are great promoters of Learning, and Learned Men deserve from them an Apotheosis, a sort of Divine Honour, because they hold of them the very Life of their Souls, their Wit, by the daily encouragements of their Princely Liberalities.  
I must in this place remember you, that the greatest Wits cease sometimes to give light before the years of Dotage, either because the Organs without which the perfectest Soul cannot make us sensible of its Abilities, are corrupted by our irregularities, or perhaps because of the Natural limitation of Humane Capacity, which could reach no further.  
4. As to the wittiest Authors, there is not only a difference among them, such as is between different Stars: But the fame Author is sometimes so unlike unto himself, that one would take him to be another. I admire the First Six Books of the Aenead, and the Sixth above all. I meet with nothing in all the rest that deserves my admiration. Ovid's Love-Letters are incomparably well done, they are penned most smoothly and wittily; but he neglected himself too much in those he wrote in the place of his banishment. There are some excellent pieces in his Metamorphosis; such I always fancied his description of the Old Chaos, and the Rudiments of the World, P●a●ton's journey to his Father the Sun, the debate between Ajax and Ulysses, etc. I admire nothing more in Lucan than the unevenness of his Style, he flies high, and on a sudden low again in the same Page, and sometimes in the same Verse; you shall read none so elevated, upon some occasions, and none so flat on other rencounters: Claudian and he are near of a Temper. Livy by his long and Minute narratives wears out his own Wit, and the Readers patience. His best pieces in my Judgement are his Harangues, or those senseful Speeches he puts in the Mouths of Statesmen, and great Captains. I have had also a great Veneration for Cicero, yet I am very sensible that he is not himself upon all occasions. I find few of his Plea's so well penned, as that he made in defence of Milo. He knows not what he would be at in his Book de Natura Deorum, and his best Interpreters, I fancy, as Es●al●pier, etc. and others, do but guests at his meaning. As to the Accuracy, and Politeness of Expression, he's every where the same, and the best Master of the Latin Tongue Aristotle is beyond envy itself, though not every where beyond reach: the new Philosophers speak more distinctly, and give more sensible Notions of most things. His best Pieces I take to be his artificial Logic, or Art of arguing conformably to certain infallible Rules, his Politics, his Poetry, his Rhetoric and his Morals. He is a very Obscure Metaphysitian, because he handled such matters as are beyond the reach of Humane Understanding, and thought it not enough to say that every thing was this or that by a various Texture, but would needs further inquire into the Properties of the compounding parts, whether they were Finite, or Infinite, obnoxious to an endless division, or not, etc. Thus he proposeth to us palpable, and intelligible difficulties, but very obstruse, mysterious, and unsatisfactory solutions.  
What I have said of the Ancients, I may likewise say of our Modern Wits. For there are but few of 'em eminent in every thing, and most of them eminent in nothing. But I must not end this Section without giving you some rational account of this unevenness observable in most may Authors. First then we have recourse to that common answer to all such difficulties, the limitation of humane Capacity; but because this is too general, I shall say something no less to the purpose, and more particular. I may be allowed then to say in Second Instance, that our own indiscretion is commonly the cause of this disorder: For as we never write wittily, but when our Imagination is exalted to a certain degree of heat, destructive to our cold dulness; so when our Spirits are spent by a long and serious application, it would then prove a piece of prudence in us to lay aside our Pen, and meditate no more on the Subject till we recover our lost Spirits, and first vigour. I believe Vigil kept this Precept, since he spent near Thirty years in the composure of his Poem; but our Folly is such, that black paper we must, though our Soul be not able to act its part, because of the supposed want of Necessary Instruments, furnishing us with as lively Ideas as before. Which fanciful Humour I apprehend to be the true Cause, why we writ not always so well as really we could have done, if we had broken off our work till the return of our better temper and disposition. Whereof I find a not unfit Analogy in a Subject somewhat like to that we now treat of. I see no other cause of the great difference as to Wit among Children of the same Parents, but because the latter observe not the fittest times for the act of generation, coming together, when their Seeds are either yet raw, or not so elaborated and spirituous, as is requisite. So if married People understood the critical, and fittest Minute for this duty of Marriage, or would contain themselves so long as they were not fit for it, they would undoubtedly be more satisfied with their Children, than some of them have reason to be; because I fancy the former would not be so unlike one another, as to the endowments of the Mind. We may proportionably discourse at the same rate of our Spiritual Children, our Writings: They may all resemble one another in not unlike stains of Wit, if we manage ourselves aright in conceiving of them.   

SECT. XIII. The art of writing wittily.  
1. Why some do speak ill, and write well, and some do write ill, and speak well.  
2. That we ought first to consider, before we undertake to write, if the Subject be not beyond our natural Abilities.  
3. What use we are to make of Authors. That we wrong ourselves by not perusing our own Wit.  
4. That some are professed Robbers of other men's Works, as several Germans, and other subtle Thiefs, as not a few French undoubtedly are.  
5. That we must not be too positive in our assertions.  
6. Aristotle's obscurity instanced in some few examples.  
1. IT may be thought not out of purpose to inquire in this place why some do speak ill and write well, and on the contrary, why others speak well, and write ill. The difficulty I confess is considerable, and I am not fully resolved in the case. Yet it may be said that this proceeds from some of the different Characters of Wit we have spoken of elsewhere. For some are slow in conceiving, because, perhaps they have a too weak Understanding, and fear too much to be mistaken; so their utterance upon this account is very uneasy: and such speak their Thoughts so imperfectly, that one would think they had but a very superficial Understanding. Nevertheless they are sometimes excellent Penmen, and the fittest Men in the World to appear in Print; because the uneasiness of their utterance comes rather from a certain wariness, and Weakness perhaps too of the Imagination, than from any real defect of Judgement. But as for those that speak well, and write ill; if by this expression we mean that some do speak great Sense, who cannot write sensefully; I think I may be allowed to say, that there is no such thing possible. For whosoever can speak Sense, I know not why he may not likewise couch it upon Paper, if he please. But if perchance we understand by speaking well and wittily, a certain facility, easiness of expression, the Volubility of the Tongue, or a certain show of Eloquence without either great Sense, or acuteness, there are I confess, many half-witted Men, and more yet of the Weaker Sex that speak well, though they writ not wittily, because of the shallowness of their Judgement, which is rather a help than a hindrance to their talkative humour; especially if they have, as commonly they want it not, any quickness of Fancy. For such People, 'tis no less useless to prescribe Rules of writing wittily, than to teach Fools how to speak to the purpose.  
2. The first Precept then of this art, I conceive to be no other but the consideration of the Subject we are to treat of. We must in the first instance consider if it be not perhaps, beyond the reach of our Abilities: For, Non omnia possumus omnes, Nec omnis fertomnia tellus, there are but very few equally capable of every thing; Was not Cicero the Prince of Orators, but had no inclination towards Poetry, wherein Ovid was eminent; who again had no other considerable Talon we know of. The latter had proved, I fancy, a very ordinary, and less perhaps than an ordinary Writer of Plea's, and the former but a dull, uneasy and constrained Poet. Our first Study than must be of ourselves, and of our Genius, to know, Quid valeant Humeri, quid far recusant, what we are really capable of. If then perhaps we are sensible of our fitness for any Science whatsoever, we may be the more daring to write our thoughts indifferently upon any Subject: But this we cannot certainly know without a frequent Trial of our Capacity. However, 'tis most certain there is still one thing we are fit for, than for any other, and to this we must apply ourselves more particularly: but it may be here enquired, how shall we know what Nature has made us chief for? I answer, First, almost after the same manner that we know our Vocation, or Call to any State of life, as to a married, or single life; by the very inclination we find in us to this, or that kind of Study, which not being given to us in vain, must needs be a sign of our fitness to succeed therein. I answer Secondly, whatever we do with greatest facility, that undoubtedly we are born to. Thus if I conceive more easily whatever depends upon Figure, shape and Proportion; or if I can make a Mathematical Demonstration with less difficulty than a Verse, or a Poem; I shall rather apply myself to Mathematics than to Poetry.  
3. Now having found out by the foregoing Method what I may with best success undertake, I must then follow these particular Rules, and Precepts that regard the Subject I writ of. But my chief care shall be to peruse often those that I know certainly to be eminent in that Art, or Science I apply myself to: Thus if I mind to write natural Philosophy, I shall consult the English Philosopher, boil, or the Famous Verulam. Yet without any design to plunder or pillage them, for I know nothing more destructive to the improvement of Wit, than the stealing humour of some Writers, who sometimes make great Volumes of other men's Labours; which is not so much always a sign of their incapacity, as of their Lazyness, and mistrust of their own Abilities; if we can be at the pains but to think by ourselves, and to write nothing but our own thoughts, we may perhaps become at length sensible by experience, that we are nothing inferior to those, whose borrowed Wit we had made our own. 'Tis a great Commendation of an Author, when it may be truly said, that what he writes is not borrowed, which is not so to be understood, as if he should write always things never any dreamt of before him; for this is impossible, since the Beaux Esprits must needs sometimes jump together by chance, as to the Substance, though not as to the Tour, and manner of Writing. My meaning is, that an ingenious Man ought not to copy out any man's Works, but writ his own Thoughts and Meditations, as if he were alone in the World without the help of Books. I know no Author in this Age so much searched into as the Famous Robert Boil, and by such as enrich their works with his ingenious contrivances though they are neither so civil, nor so grateful, as to make an Honourable mention of him. Takenius has been more guilty of this fault than any other that I know of. But to return to what I was saying, how can we ever improve that Wit God perhaps has bestowed upon us in a larger measure than we are ware of, if we never make use of it, or exercise it, which we do not, though we writ every year a Volume, so long as we are mere Transcribers, and not true Authors. As the French do frequently reproach this to the Germans, so they say commonly, Qu'un liure d' Allman, cest un liure on il n'y a rien de l' autheur, That there is nothing in a Germans Book, of the Author, but his Name. Which I confess ingenuously not a few of that Nation to be guilty of. But yet whilst they put other men's productions in room of their own, which perhaps would prove as good, if not better than theirs, they are so just as to name the Authors with proportionable Eulogiums; upon which account I look upon them as public and professed Robbers, rather than subtle Thiefs, which I take to be the Character of the French Writers, who steal wherever they meet with any thing that may serve their turn, and returning no acknowledgement to the Author from whom they take they will cunningly, & wittily too, pretend they have some reason not to acknowledge the theft, as being moulded now into another frame and shape; which some of them do to the very deceiving of the Author himself at the first view: and this I reckon to be the height of the French Wit, as scarce reaching to the invention of any thing, but perhaps of new modes: For this Nation is now so used to plunder, and pillage their Neighbours, that if they lay aside what they have stolen out of Spanish, Italian, German and English Books, what is properly their own, would not make a very large Volume.  
4. Being then fully resolved to be Authors, rather than either Robbers with the Germans, or Thiefs with the French; we shall conceive first a general design, whereunto all the particulars of the piece must be either directly, or indirectly related: But though I esteem a mean Author more than either a Germane Robber, or a French Thief; yet I do allow those following uses of other men's Labours: First I may, and aught to peruse them for the quickening of my fancy, and for the acquiring of what we call, a Style, or an accurate and polite elocution; not that we ought to borrow their witty Words, Leurs bons mots: For 'tis better to utter ourselves in our own language, than to speak in other men's terms: But my meaning is, that the perusal of what they have written, whether it regard our Subject or not, may by heightening our Imagination, hinder us from a too flat way of writing. Thus if I mind to write an Elegy, I ●hall first run over some choice piece ●f Ovid, or one of his more polite ●etters. It will be useful to read some Passages of Cicero, Virgil, Livy, etc. before I undertake to write a Latin Oration, an History, or Poem. The same advice is to be followed, what Language soever we writ in, whether it be French or English. If the Authors we peruse have written upon the same Subject, we must endeavour to improve what they have said, or confute their Errors that deserve to be taken notice of: wherein we are to take heed above all things not to be too positive, as if we pretended to demonstrate every thing we say; for this would betray us to be none of the most knowing sort: For I think it no Paradox to say, that the very things we are sure of, and hold for undoubted Truths, we can no more prove by the Light of an undeniable Demonstration, than what we look upon as mere Opinions, and uncertain Conjectures. For since I know nothing but by the help of my fallible, and often failing Senses; how do I know but I am imposed upon by the very things I think, I touch, I feel, I hear. This affirmative way of debating may be allowed in the Schools, where the conceived infallibility of the Masters is necessary, both for gaining and conserving their Credit among their Scholars; but it must be avoided, cane pejus & angue, above all things by a sober, witty and judicious Writer. This necessary moderation is observable every where in the Works of the renowned Boil: I do certainly believe he thinks more before he says, such a thing perhaps is, than others do before they positively affirm, it is undoubtedly so.  
5. Obscurity is another defect we must be careful to shun, since, prima virtus orationis perspicuitas est, the chief and most necessary Ornament of any discourse, is it perspicuity and clearness. I have a very ill opinion of a man's Capacity, when whatever he writes is a mystery to the Understanding sort: Yet I shall be so far favourable to the Chemists, as to think there may be some real secrets, and Mysteries known only to themselves, which they will not reveal to others. But I must beg their Pardon, if I incline more to believe their affected Obscurity to be nothing else but a Childish vanity, or rather a specious Nonsense, proposed to the World in obscure Terms, in order to gain Credit among the ignorant sort of Men, who commonly admire nothing more than what they least understand. This defect is justly reproached by the New Philosophers to the Peripateticians, and to Aristotle himself, especially in his definitions where perspicuity is most expected, and is most necessary.  
I shall instance some few examples for proof of what I say. If then you ask Aristotle the nature of what we call a quality, he shall give you instantly this mysterious definition, Qualitas est aqua quales quidam dicuntur. I know not how either to English, or make sense of this obscure Notion; but 'tis all one as if you had defined white to be that whereby we are made white. I am sure every rational Man understands better what movement is, than its definition given by Aristotle, Actus entis in potentia quatenus in p●tentia, which besides its obscurity, far beyond that of the thing it intends to clear, is, First, such a piece of Nonsense, that I defy any man in the World to make intelligible English of it, without a large Comment; and Secondly, it contains an evident contradiction in adjecto, as they speak, in the very terms: Since the former words, astus entis in potentia, are altogether inconsistent with the latter, Quatenus in potentia. Locus, or place, we undoubtedly conceive better, than what Aristotle saith, in order to furnish us with a clear Notion thereof: For I thought always I understood in some measure what it was, till I heard Aristotle call it, Superficies prima acris ambientis immobilis, the immovable surface of the ambient Air. Now my weak head is full of endless doubts, and I understand no more what I understood some thing of before, by its own self-evidence; for first I understand not how the surface of the Air is immovable: Secondly, I know not why a Body a Stone, for instance, in vacuo, should be no where, because it is not surrounded with Air. I apprehend Thirdly, the Natural place of every thing to be nothing else but the Imaginary and immovable space that it fills with its three Dimensions, depth, breadth and length, which Aristotle's definition makes no mention of.  
I shall say nothing of that other Notion of his relating to Time, which he calls, Motus secundum prius & posterius, that is literally, and verbatim, a movement according to what is before, and according to what is behind, what more clear? Auditum admissi risum teneatis amici. But to speak ingenuously; all this argues no defect of Capacity in Aristotle, but only betrays him to be guilty of attempting I shall not say pretending to give us exact definitions of things that are above the reach of Humane Capacity; such as Time, Place, Movement, etc. because they are primary Principles, whereof we may give perhaps, some imperfect Descriptions, but no true Notions.  
We are not only to shun obscurity in our definitions, which ought to be always self-evident to any man, understanding the terms they are conceived in, but likewise in every particular Word, and Sentence, if it can be avoided. For I take it to be a vulgar, and a silly error, that great Wits are commonly obscure, mysterious and cloudy; because, as I am fully persuaded that perspicuity is the chief, and most necessary Ornament of our Discourse, so I conceive it to be the best Character of a true Wit. We must then give to whatever we writ, all the Evidence, and plainess the Subject can bear, which we shall perform the more easily, if we eat with all possible care a too great multitude of superfluous Repetitions, as likewise Subjects, that are not only hard to be understood, but which no Humane Capacity can compass. A too great affectation of harsh and hard Words, of far fetched Expressions is justly condemned by the Polite and wittiest sort of Writers: For since Words are the Images of our thoughts, we must make choice of those that are their best representatives. Whatever then is made use of in common discourse by such as speak well, and naturally, that is fittest for us to make choice of. Thus our Style shall be smooth, natural and easy, without either obscurity, or that mysterious Nonsense that some weak Heads naturally incline to; and is termed by the French, du Galimathias. But I know nothing that may contribute more towards the clearness, and smoothing of our discourse, than a fit and ingenious comparison, not more insisted on than is necessary, nor too frequent. The English Philosopher, I mean the Famous Boil, understands better than any I ever yet read, the art of illustrating, and proving too, what he affirms by witty and natural comparisons. As his Style is every where smooth and clear; I know no better Master of natural Philosophy, not only upon the account of his Doctrine and ingenious Solutions of the greatest difficulties, but likewise for his extraordinary perspicuity and clearness.   

SECT. XIV. If Women can be really witty.  
1. Why some allege that Women cannot be really witty.  
2. Some weak Objections answered.  
3. That their Wit appears most in managing of intrigues, whether good or bad.  
4. A true Story of a Lady's dexterity to be rid of two Husbands.  
5. That as little men may be comely, not beautiful, so few Women can be reckoned among the beaux E'spirits, though we may allow several of them place among those whom the French call Esprits jolly, or jolly Wits.  
1. SOme, who make it their whole business to inveigh against Women, though perhaps they be not quite out of conceit with them, may be apt to think that they are rather naturally wilful, than Witty; because, perhaps, they were made of one of Adam's Bones, and not of his Brains; yet 'tis certain they may claim a just right to it as well as Men, and sometimes to wisdom too; The coldness of their Temper is no argument to me of their stupidity or dulness; for besides, that the melancholy, though cold, are commonly ingenious, This supposed coldness of their temper is often corrected by such a degree of heat, as may improve them into real Wits. Their Bodies, I confess, are not of so close a texture as those of Men, as being both softer, and more moist: But in all this I see nothing inconsistent with their being really witty. And if we are not convinced as yet of this self-evident truth by reason, daily experience may easily clear all our doubts. Speak they not to the purpose in a familiar converse, and as good Sense as most Men; yea, some of them can act the Philosopher's part, compose Books, and writ Verses too, not very impertinently. And if we will speak our mind impartially, they have somewhat more of a sudden, and extemporary▪ Wit than Men themselves, who can speak Sense, but after Meditation; whereas they talk sometimes to the purpose, without being at the pains of much thinking. Shall we doubt of their acuteness, if we reflect but a moment upon their quick Repartees, in certain Rencounters, where in Men are like Equus, & Asinus quibus non est intellectus, as dumb as Beasts: And if the beauty of the Soul be proportionable to that of the Body; we have reason to think that as they exceed our Sex in the former, so they have some considerable advantage over us in the latter too, whereof they give sometimes but too certain proofs by circumventing, and imposing upon the Greatest Head pieces amongst Men; which is nothing else but an ill use of a very good thing, their Wit. Samson could neither be overcome, nor out-witted by the Philistines, but subtler Dalila put a cheat upon him, that cost him at last his life. Solomon was the wisest Man of the Age he lived in, yet he was prevailed upon by the forcible persuasions of his Concubines to adore false Gods. Abigail with a short Harangue triumphed over David's warlike resolutions. And Adam himself could not resist the Rhetoric of his Wife Eve, but submitted to her as to his Master. So true it is that Women have out-witted the greatest men in all ages, and for aught I know, the World turns yet round at their discretion. But nothing showeth more their Wit, than their subtle management of intrigues, whether of Love or Revenge; for they can dissemble better than Hypocrisy itself, and put what Face they please upon their Secret, and real Designs. I shall set down here on this occasion what happened in France not many years ago, as being a true Fact, and no Romance; though because of the oddness of the thing, it looks somewhat like one.  
2. When the French King invaded Holland in the year 72. if I misremember not, the Nobility, as 'tis usual on such occasions, followed him by his express Command from all parts of the Kingdom: A Gentleman of a mean Fortune, but of Good Parentage, in obedience to his Sovereign, and besides encouraged by a promise of some considerable Preferment, resolved to leave his Lady, being married but Three Months before, and to hazard his life for the increase of his small Fortune. But whether he was not very Uxorious, or which I am more apt to believe, had been wholly taken up with Military Affairs, he never in the space of Five years' absence informed her once what condition he was in. She began then to suspect him killed in some rencontre. But all her doubts were at length cleared by a Letter she received from one of his intimate Friends, who was very well informed of his continual Silence all the while of this long absence. He assured her then by his Letter of her Husband's death, because he judged his recovery out of a Distemper he was then in, impossible. He added, that he was coming to present her with her Husband's Diamond Ring, as a part of his last Will, and a mark of his most sincere Love and Affection towards her: And accordingly not thinking that his Friend could recover▪ sets forward for France. He failed not at his arrival to present the Lady with the Ring, and at the same time with his Sevice, if perchance she disliked him not, as he professed he did not dislike her. She seemed, as Women commonly do upon such occasions, to be somewhat shy at first, and surprised at his unexpected offer. But weary now of a solitary Life, and fearing she should not meet with so good an opportunity again, she thought it a piece of Prudence to lay hold on it; and so being at her Liberty, as she thought, she engaged within a few days to this Second Husband; who not using her near so kindly, as the first, though, as it shall appear hereafter, she never really loved him neither; she began to wish for a change, and that it would please God to rid her of this Husband as he had already delivered her of the First when he recovering unexpectedly out of that Distemper, his Friend, but now his Rival, had left him in without any hopes of recovery, comes on a sudden home, not knowing any thing of his wife's second Marriage. Being soon informed of the whole matter, and how innocently it had happened on her side, he appeared to be somewhat satisfied, and told her that he wa● ready to live with her again, if sh● was willing to part with her present Husband, and however that the Law would right him in this case. It was accordingly ordered that she should leave her second Husband, and return to the first again, wherewith she appeared to be well satisfied, because of her hard usage from her second Husband: They lived then awhile together very contentedly, and he doted on her more than ever he did when he was first married: She failed not to use him likewise with all imaginable kindness, which so gained his heart, that he could not cross her in any thing; yea, not in such things as were neither lawful nor allowable. As he was still highly concerned if any thing should displease her, or put her in a melancholy temper, he inquired of her one day why she appeared to be somewhat dejected; how can I be other, replied she, since I know certainly that you are in a greater danger than ever you was in the Holland Wars, because my second pretended Husband, as I am credibly informed, is resolved to murder you, that he may enjoy me again. I hear indeed he is going for Burgundy, but I know he will make but a short stay there. So you may easily judge, that loving you as tenderly as I do, I shall never have a moment of Rest either by Night or Day, till I be rid of my too well grounded fear, by preventing someway this designed blow, which at once would kill two, and be the occasion of a deserved, though shameful death to a third, the Executioner himself, your Rival: Her Husband being extremely surprised at this discourse, knew not what to resolve upon; but being near concerned in the case, and loving her more than his life, he took a sudden resolution to do whatever she would put him upon. This subtle Lady taking notice of this yielding humour he was in, spoke to him thus again, or to this effect; you seem to be in doubt what you have to do: You must then resolve, for I know your Rival's Humour, and there is no middle, either to kill or be killed, and all wise men, methinks, will prefer the former before the latter: Now because I cannot suffer you to expose yourself to the least hazard, I shall furnish you this Night with the fittest Opportunity that can be devised of doing yourself, and me too, a most important piece of Service. Your Rival then will come about Six of the Clock, as he hath given me notice by a Letter, to take his leave of me before his departure for Burgundy; which civility I shall not only admit, but invite him likewise in your presence to Supper, under pretence of a pretended Reconciliation to be made up between him and you. The Gentleman comes as he had promised, and yielded with all his heart to their Civil offers, being now almost fully persuaded, that as in Holland, and Flanders he had had all things in Common with his Friend, this juncture would furnish him with an overture to the like privacy at home, which was all that he either aimed at, or cared for. Before the Gentleman came to take his leave of the Lady, they had contrived, and agreed upon the manner of his Death, which was to press upon him several Healths, and when he should be almost insensible of what was doing about him, to dissolve some Strong and Heady Soporifick in his Wine, that so they might the more easily strangle him, the Servants being first dispatched out of doors upon pretended Errants. The murder thus executed without resistance or noise; the Lady took after this manner her measures for concealing this horrid fact, and hiding the Body from the eyes of the World. She desired her Husband to take it upon his shoulders, while she would bear up the Legs upon hers for his greater ease in carrying it. Thus they went quietly along together about Midnight by a back door through the Garden, strait to the River that washed the very walls thereof: But as they were thus in their March, the Lady tied dexterously in more than one part, the dead Man's clothes with those of her living Husbands, which he, as being intent upon the completing of the business, could neither mistrust, nor be sensible of. They were come near to the River, when she told him to go as near as he could, and being now upon the very brink of the precipice, she most unmercifully thrust him over, and so both headlong down together into the River. Thus she got herself rid of both her Husbands at once, whom it seems she had equally disliked. It may be yet somewhat to my purpose to tell you, that being returned home, she made a great stir among her Servants, as if she had known nothing of the matter, and asked them often if they had not met with her Husband and the other Gentleman, for that she feared they had challenged one another, and had gone to some remote place agreed upon, to put an end by the Sword to their old Quarrels: But though this was for a while the general opinion of the Town, the two Bodies being found two Months after by some Fishermen bound together, and the Lady being upon suspicion apprehended, and according to the Laws of that Country, in such doubtful cases, threatened with extraordinary Tortures, if she would not confess her crime: She made at length a full discovery of the whole matter: And suffered by the order of the Justice what she had well deserved an, infamous Death.  
3. Let us make here but this one reflection: Can there be a greater wickedness than this, and at the same time a greater abuse of Wit; whereby we see clearly that this weaker Sex has nothing of real Weakness when they resolve upon a design, whether bad, as this was, or good, as that of Judith, who in my judgement cheated not Holofernes so subtilely out of his life, as this Woman did her two Husbands out of theirs.  
I pretend not by this discourse to puff Women up with Pride, for they are but too proud already; my design only is to show that they ought not to be undervalved by Men, as if they were little better than Fools, and had no kind of real Wit; since their very Malice and Tricks do demonstrate the contrary. But nevertheless, though it may be allowable to call some Women fine Wits, because of some peculiar vivacity they are gifted with; yet few of them can pretend to be great Wits, such a Character requiring a constant temper of the Soul, which they, because of their changeable humour, are not capable of. I shall not perhaps be justly styled impertinent, if I say, that since Wit depends most upon the perfection of our Souls, they have not received from God so perfect Souls as Men, because by Gods special appointment they are to obey, and Men to command; they are to be Servants, and Men their Masters: Now 'tis conformable to the Wisdom of that all wise being, that as they are inferior to us by the condition of their State, so they should be likewise far short of Men, as to the innate endowments of the Mind. Yet I deny not but that God may, and does sometimes lodge a Soul of the First Hierarchy, I mean a most perfect one in a Woman's body; but this is not usual, and seldom happens, but when he pleases to make choice of Women to rule over great Empires, and whole Nations, which hinders not the generality of them, from falling far short of those eminent abilities that men are deservedly esteemed for. I conceive the French to be more sensible of the truth of this Doctrine than most other Nations, because by their Salic Law, Women can claim no right among them to the Sovereign command. I shall not say, it would perhaps, prove to our great advantage, to put the same affront upon them by giving place to this Law amongst us; but sure I am that England would be no more a Purgatory for Men, as it is commonly said to be, and would not cease neither to be a Paradise for Women, if the Salic Law were once established in every private House and Family of this Kingdom.   

SECT. XV. The witty Physician, or the chief Secret of Physic.  
1. How difficult a thing it is to become a good Physician.  
2. What is chief required in a good Physician.  
3. Why a man may know the whole Materia medica, and not be a good Physician.  
4. That the unsuccessfulness of, or harm done by a remedy, is rather to be ascribed to the Physician, than to any defect in the Remedy itself.  
I Conceive no Art so hard to compass, as that which makes ● true Physician; Divinity itself compared to it is but a Play: For one may be a not insufficient Divine, if ●e can but discourse probably of that may be understood in our mymysteries, and confess by an humble belief his ignorance of whatever is beyond the reach of his Capacity, whereby I mean that the most intricate difficulties and mysteries of the Christian Religion may be easily surmounted by a blind submission of our Understandings unto Gods obscure Revelation. But whether I consider the Speculative, or practical part of Physic, I meet everywhere with insuperable difficulties. I represent first to myself whatever is contained in the Three Kingdoms, not of England, Scotland and Ireland only, but of Three of a far larger extent, the Mineral, the Vegetative, and the Animal: And on a sudden I fall into despair of ever understanding to the botttom the least thing they contain: I can scarce fiv in my dull head the very names of Metals, Minerals, Plants and Animals; and far less their infinite Poperties, and Medicinal uses. Reflecting again upon our corruptibel Bodies, my Thoughts are put to a stand, when I am pressed to give a rational account either of their tempers, or distempers. Yet if I pretend to be but an ordinary Physician, I must have a sort of comprehensive Knowledge of this Engine, our Soul moves, and of all its particular Motions; which being upon several accounts an insuperable difficulty, what wonder if the ablest Physicians mistake not only sometimes a man's distemper, but which is of a worse consequence, take sometimes one for another: Because two different Diseases may have such an affinity in their Symptoms, that they can pretend to no infallibility in distinguishing them. On the other side, when I consider the obscure Origine of most Distempers, I am quite out of humour with the Practice of Physic. I may but too easily mistake that, without the Knowledge of which I cannot cure my Patient, the true cause of his disease; yea, I wonder how any Man dare venture to study Physic, if he peruse but a moment Hypocrates his first Aphorism, Vita longa, ars brevis, occasio celeris, experimentum difficile, judicium periculosum, Our life is too short, and the Art is of an infinite extent, the occasion gives us easily the slip; the Experience is hard, doubtful and dangerous, and it is not easy to discern well, either the Remedies, or the Distempers: We can have then but little certainty of the Cure, especially if we take notice of what follows in the same Aphorism, Oportet autem non modo seipsum exhibere quae oportet facientem, sed etiam aegrum ac praesentes, & externa, that the Patient's Recovery depends not only upon the Physician's care and skill, but no less upon the Patient himself, who must contribute towards his own cure by an exact submission, and scrupulous performance of what he is ordered to do, take, or observe. And besides, all our endeavours are useless, if those that wait upon him do not their Duty, or if perchance those things that the Old Man calls external, and are without us, as wholesome food, good air, etc. be wanting. Out of all this discourse I raise the same inference that made my first proposition in the beginning of this Section, That there is no small difficulty to become a good Physician; yet on the other part, one would think that there is nothing more easy, because of the great number of Physicians to be met with every where, whom we know in all other respects to be but mere Blockheads. If the Knowledge of Physic were a thing so hard to attain to, and beyond the common reach, could either a Tailor, or a Shoemaker, and the rest of the unlearned Tribe practice Physic, as able and Famous Doctors. I confess if there were no more required to be a Physician than what the less understanding sort, or the Mobile conceives to be necessary, the whole World might soon be turned into a College of Physicians: It is not then the Knowledge of a Receipt, or two not unsuccessful on some, or several occasions that give us right to this honourable Tittle, nor the art of making up this or that Physical Composition, unless we will foolishly reckon up old doting Wives, and Apothecaries Prentices, with the ablest Doctors. Yea, I maintain it to be no Paradox to say, that a man may comprehend perfectly the whole Materia medica, and an hundred good Remedies against every particular Distemper, and yet prove a very insignificant, and ignorant Physician too. Because the chief Secret of Physic consists not in the goodness of the Remedy, but in the due application thereof, with regard to time, place, the Temper of the Patient, and other Circumstances. Who understands this, and no other, is a true Physician, as being capable to cure the worst distempers, by not very odd, nor far fetched Remedies. Whether there be any Panicea's, or universal Remedies against all sort of distempers, I shall not here examine; but sure I am that Opium perhaps for diminishing of pain excepted; there are no such found as yet: and though there were any of this Latitude, I would still look upon them as mere Instruments that may miscarry by the unskilfulness of those that handle them. I am then sensible that several are quite mistaken, when they complain that such a Remedy did wrong their Bodies, or increase their Distempers, whereas the Physician only is to be blamed; who, tho' he prescribed a thing in itself very good, neither understood the critical Minute it was to be given in, nor his Patient's constitution, nor other Circumstances which we must needs take notice of, else we may prescribe the best remedies to no purpose. A Physician's Wit then lieth not in framing modish Receipts, and prescribing a numberless number of Remedies, whether Chemical, or Galenical, but in a certain practical judgement, which is not got in the Universities, of applying what is fittest for the cure of the Distemper, with regard to time, place, the strength of the Patient, and other Circumstances. I look therefore upon such as sell Secrets against all sorts of distempers, to be mere Cheats; because if their Remedies be indeed Panacea's, or Universal, this Character I allow not to be intrinsecal to them, but merely extrinsical, as derived from the practical Judgement of such as prescribe them successfully, which as they cannot sell, nor communicate, neither can they either sell, or communicate their Secret: Hence we may conclude what a piece of imprudence, or rather madness it is, to take Remedies from the hands of mere Empirics, without the advice of some Judicious Physician; because, as I was saying lately, our recovery depends not so much upon the goodness of the Remedy, as upon a due application thereof. For we are taught both by reason, and experience, that we may either kill or cure with the same Remedy differently applied, and to different Subjects, or not in the same Circumstances.   

SECT. XVI. The ingenious Art of Translating.  
1. The difficulty of a good Translation.  
2. The Art of Translating compared to the Art of Portraying.  
3. In which of the two Languages the Translator ought to excel, whether in that he translates from, or in that he translates in to.  
4. The Faults and Mistakes of some Translators.  
5. That good Latin Translations do always outdo the Originals.  
1. ONe would think that there is no great Wit, nor no very much art neither, in making of a good Translation; but how far they are deceived, we may easily conjecture by the infinite number of bad Translations done in this City: For as an Ingenious Gentleman did lately observe, some of the Translators understand not the Language they Translate from, others understand not the Language they Translate into, and others again understand not the Subject they translate: What wonder then if they fall not only often very short of the Original, but besides furnish the World with such imperfect Copies, as may ruin the repute of the Authors, in the judgement of those that know them not. I conceive then, and require in a ingenious Translator such parts, as I fear we shall meet with but in a very small Number. We must not then think that a man is qualified to make, for Instance, a good English Version out of French, because he has stayed a year or two, or if you please, some years in France, unless he understand the very Criticisim, and Tour of the Language, which can scarce be attained to but by those who have been bred up from their greener years among the Politest sort of that Nation; and besides, have made good use of their time by writing, speaking, conversing, reading, and all such exercises as are the fittest for acquiring the perfect Knowledge of any Language. 'Tis then a piece of Simplicity in some Booksellers to make their application for the Translating of French Books, to such as have been but a year or two in France, or which is yet worse, have never stirred from home; tho' I grant they may by their private Study understand in some measure the French Tongue, yet I am sure that they never conceive aright the whole Energy, Pith and Delicacy of the Phrase; the knowledge whereof is so necessary, that without it, the version cannot but be very imperfect, and to the disadvantage of the Author. Most of those ●hat translate Novels being sensible of their insufficiency as to this part, pass by, and supply what they understand not by some irregular Fancy of their own, and sometimes not very much fitted for the purpose. I conceive then the Art of Translating to be like unto that of Portraying. He is a very mean Painter, who can but represent the mere Lineaments, and external Shape of a Man's Face. The chief Secret of this Art consists in drawing to life the very Soul itself; I mean, in representing the very Air, Temper, Humour and Complexion. For a Man is not drawn to Life, unless the most habitual indisposition of his Soul shine in the Piece. So I may proportionably say, to turn French into flat English precisely, is not beyond the reach of the meanest Capacity; but it is a piece of harder work than the unexperienced are ware of, to represent the Original to life: This requires, besides a ripe Judgement, an extraordinary quickness of the Imagination, with an easy and ingenious utterance. And here I think it is not amiss to inquire in which of the two languages the Translator ought to excel, whether in that he translates from, or in that he translates into. I think it then no paradox to assert a perfect Knowledge of the former to be more necessary than that of the latter: my reason is, because if I understand never so well the Tour, for instance, of the English; this will avail me but little, if I comprehend not that of the French likewise together with its whole Energy and Pith, for without this foresaid Knowledge I shall never be able to make a true and Natural Copy of the Original, how Politely soever I do write in English. For a good English Version consists not in the goodness of the Language, absolutely considered in itself, but respectively to the Original, which it must represent and equal, if possible, in all Sense. On the other side, though I understand not so eminently the Language the Version is done into, yet if I be Master of the Language the Original is written in, I shall be capable of translating it exactly and well. For in this case I shall be sensible of the least expression that shall fall short of my Author, and so with a little more application I may reach him at length by changing the Phrase or Expression, which is not very uneasy to do, till comparing the Original with the Copy, I find them nothing inferior to each other, or rather as near as possibly they can be. A good Translator than may in so me respect be as much esteemed, as the Author himself: For sure I am that sometimes the ingenious sort find it a harder Task to translate, than to write, or to invent themselves; because it is easier, no doubt, to express our own thoughts, than those of other men's, which are often none of the clearest. Their obscurity sometimes prove a lawful excuse for our mistakes, but we can, under no pretence, eat a just and deserved confusion, if through our own ignorance we quite abuse and misrepresent our Authors. I fear he was of this number who translated, Le pont Euxine, the Euxine Bridge, in lieu of the Euxine or Black Sea, between Moeotis and Tenedos, as also that other, who translates thus the receipt of an eminent Physician, Repulveris panonici Rubri, etc. take of the Powder of Red Cloth Two Ounces, as if Panonicus was derived from the Latin Word Pannus, Cloth, and not from Pannonia, the name of a Country.  
3. I shall in this place take notice of what but few perhaps reflect upon, that as the living Languages of Europe are but Jargons' compared to the Latin, so all Books done out of French, Spanish, Italian, etc. into Latin by an accurate, and Polite Pen, and in a true and Natural Style, are always far beyond the Original: because this Language carrieth along with it a certain Energy that no other reacheth. I shall give you a proof of what I say by translating these ensuing Verses to demonstrate to you the wide difference between those two Languages. The Four first were penned by a Man more esteemed by some than he deserves. The Answer was made by an Emiminent Virtuoso, and a Famous Philosopher, of whom I have spoken several times in this Treatise.  

The Deists Plea.  
NAtural, Religion easy first, and plain,  
Tales made it mystery, Offerings made it gain  
Sacrifices, and Feasts were at length prepared,  
The Priests eat Roast-meat, and the People stared.;   


The Christians Plea.  
NAtural Religion does indeed display  
The duty of serving God, but not the way;  
Man of himself, fickle, perverse and blind,  
A Precipice sooner than a way could find:  
What Worship God will have, himself must teach,  
And so he did by those he sent to preach.  
Who Doctrines worthy to be thought Divine,  
Confirmed by Miracles where his Power did shine,  
(And by those wonders, instances did give  
Of things as strange, as they bid us believe)  
Who proffered endless joys; but lives required,  
Worthy of Men that to such joys aspired;  
Who what they taught, so much believed and prized,  
That for its sake they all things else despised,  
And both by its strict Rules, their lives did guide,  
And to attest its Truths, most gladly died,  
And without Arms subdued the World; save those  
Whom to clear Truths (not parts, but) Vice made Foes.    


Deismi Defensio.  
INsita naturae, facilis primum, obvia cunctis  
Relligio; simul ac pia fraus misteria sinxit,  
Protinus illa pium, fit per pia munera, lucrum,  
Victima caesa cadit, convivia opima parantur,  
Optima quaeque vorat, populo spectante, Sacerdos.   

Christianismi Defensio.  
INsita naturae pietas servire Tonanti  
Relligioque jubent: methodum, sed neutra, modumque  
Edocet: hanc methodum, nullo monstrante, modumve  
Nemo sciat: malus, & fragilis quoqve, caecus, ubique  
Mille modos mortis, pereundi mille Figuras  
Invenies citius, quam qua ratione colendus  
Sit Deus: ipse modum hunc doceat Deus, ipse docebit  
Et docuit, quoties veteres docuere Prophetae,  
Praeconesque novi, qua sit ratione colendus,  
Divino quoties Oracula digna sigillo  
Exposuere Gregi: tot, quae, miracula firmant  
Divinae virtutis opus: praegrandibus ipsi  
Vt dicta aequarent factis, tàm mira patrarunt  
Quam, quae, mira, fides docuit: sed et ampla merenti  
Praemia promisere, & gaudia nescia finis  
Gaudia, quae puram poscant sine crimine vitam,  
Et quae perpetuis ad gaudia talia votis  
Hinc aspirantes deceat, doceat●ue nepotes:  
Quod docuere, fide pariter tenuere, fidesque  
Doctrine par usque fuit: sed & illius ergo  
Sub pede calcarunt studia in contraria vulgus  
Quicquid agit, caecisque animos ardoribus urget.  
Vivendi quoque Norma fides his extitit: ipsam  
Sanguine signarunt laeti, dum morte probarent,  
A●matumque orbem Gens haec superaret inermis  
Hos tantum excipias Clarissima dogmata contra  
Quos non ingenium, sed mens male conscia movit.    
Now compare the Original with the Version, and if you understand the one as well as the other, you shall, I doubt not, confess, that the latter as being more expressive than the former, offers to your thoughts a fuller Idea of the Author's meaning than they themselves could express in this inferior Dialect.  
I apprehend then Horace, Virgil, Ovid, and other Primitive Masters of the Latin Tongue to be wronged and weakened by the very best Translators, because they appear now in a Disguise, and under a borrowed Apparel, and not so Majestical neither as they first appeared in. Yet if we undertake for the Common Good, such sort of Translations, we are to observe exactly this one Precept above all others, to express the full Sense of the Author, without a too scrupulous regard to every particular Word and particle, unless it be judged material to the expressing of his intent, and meaning.  
FINIS.