PARADOXES by I. de la Salle PARADOXES BY J. De la SALLE. Obscuris vera involuens. LONDON, Printed for Francis Eaglesfiel at the Marygold in Paul's churchyard. 1653. To the Worthily honoured ROBERT branthwaite of Buly-Castle, in the County of Westmoreland, Esque WHen I consider with myself, who it is that brings the importunity of this address upon you, I cannot but be doubtful of the entertainment you may afford it, but when I shall withal have represented unto you, that things of this nature have found acceptance with all the polished Nations, that Tully himself was not ashamed to appear in this kind, & that the author may well be justified by the example of Sir Will. Cornwallis, Dr. Donne & Carpenter in our own Nation; I have the more assurance to offer you this, and so much the more, as I must witness for the author those great sentinents of honour & respect which a most effective & excellent virtue, that is to say, your own can work upon him; besides that you are one of the few that even in a desperate age inte est yourself in things noble. So that I do myself but right in acknowledging myself your Honourer, & bringing these things into your Protection, which if your candour, and usual ingenuity will not deny me, you have satisfied the ambition, and wishes of Worthy Sir, Your most humble servant, J. DAVIES. TO THE READER. IT will be wondered at haply by some, that in such a restless age of printing a man should decline that, which so many Court and Idolise, the reputation of an author, and be hardly induced to suffer his works to come into the World by another hand. It must needs be a great mind that can contemn great things. But that I should be so much concerned in the publishing of this, I cannot but give thee an account. Going about the beginning of 1649. beyond the Seas, I left some three, or four of these Paradoxes imperfect, yet such was the estimation the author had gotten by former things▪ and such the avarice of the plodding Stationer, that he would needs fasten on them as they were, but with a slight promise from the other to divertise so far as to bring them into some considerable bulk. Upon these hopes, some months after my departure, what I left was committed to the press, but as for any advance (by reason of the War in Scotland, whither the Authoor was designed in order to some public transactions, as also his relation to the State, besides the burden of his profession, not easily admitting such diversions) there was so little done, that returning into England towards the latter end of 1651. I found so much printed, as I had left behind me in writing. But understanding that there was a considerable impression of them, and that the obstacle why they came not abroad, was, besides the imperfection, the smallness of the bulk, I have for thy satisfaction, been so importunate with the author, as that he hath built up those foundations to what thou findest. The superstructure I must confess is not much but if it be considered that without it thou hadst had nothing, I may say it is all. Nor mayest thou justly quarrel, that the satisfaction is but slender in regard of the Parenthesis of almost three years, that this book hath been printing, hadst thou received nothing but that of the Government of Women, a discovery, which haply, were it put in execution might bring us to a greater settledness and certainty of Government, in regard that Women, where they once come to govern, do it perpetually, and had rather want life then domination. This is all I have to say to thee, unless it be to tell thee that my interest with the author may haply prevail with him, to do that violence to his nature as to furnish thee with some other things of better consequence, though certainly we meet with an age which hath so little inclination for any thing of worth, that were it not for some particular persons left like things gathered from a shipwreck, we might despair of ingenuity, or at least that of reception. In the mean time enjoy these, and do as well as thou canst. J. D. To his very honoured Friend, the author of these Paradoxes. REason of man being the most exquis● And noble part, and of that reason, wi●● And amongst wits, that which doth prove of a●● Most rationally paradoxical; Then you most eminent must needs possess Amidst the most refined, a prime place. For other Scienceers and Artists do Wait only servilly on Truth, but you Make it on your assertions to attend, And verify what ever you intend, Especially when you are pleased to stretch Your fancy thus above the vulgar reach. Whilst others but engender, you create, And where they life receive, you animate; You lead, they follow truth, they keep the tract That common is, and therefore do but act Thing's Ordinary but your spirit on Strange paths with wonder treads by ways unknown. Tho. Vrquhart. A Justification of the author and these his excellent Paradoxes. COuld we recall that rude and simple ag● When it was thought presumption to engag● Beyond a Proverb, such as should dispense Morality, and 'stablish th' common sense; Or when, things more divine for to display A Parable was thought the only way; Or could we but enjoy those innocent times, When for to know the humours and the crimes O' th' age, the people's entertainment was A mess of m●rry edifying plays; This work might have been spared man's ●reer m● Had not by Stoicism been confined▪ To fancy or dislike be kind or Coy Where nature bids not shun nor yet enjoy. But man grew learned, and began to wast His hours to study hatred and distaste To common things; One labours to disgrace What's most authentic with the Populace Another vows no peaceful thoughts till he Hath hammered out some tenet, that shall be High and abstruse and only must admit The disquisition of some soaring wit: A third rapt in enthusiastic rage Quarrels at the stupidity o' th' age Raves it does not receive some truth so plain, As haply is reserved to th' next Kings reign A fourth yet more refined can think not on Aught but dreams of his own perfection; Laughs at Antiquity; sweetly inveighs, At the strange ignorance of former days Derides its customs, hardly can excuse The obsolete fashion of a pair of shoes. Learning is brought to th' rack, and made confess That time may happily make a more and less In Truth, since what was once not thought to be Is since tormented into certainty. So that a dish of Paradoxes now's but cheer For a mechanic military ear. 'tis now confessed the clammy Earth runs round, That East and West may in one pnint be found; That vegetables 'mong th' Antipodes Grow not inverse, or fall into the skies; Who quarrels at the wind's inconstancy Raise up his soul a little, let him see That in th' Equator constantly there must From East to West flly a perpetual gust. Nay now the only Paradox is, to say There's any, for if when that brighter day Broke forth upon us, only this was meant, All propositions are indifferent; Error and truth each other doth comprise, And men demonstrate Contradictories; What th' author says as Paradox, may be A sacred truth vail●d in a prophecy And for the women he may safely teach They may go naked, and govern where they Preach. 〈…〉 Paradoxes. Par. 1. THat an absolute Tyranny is the best Government. pag. 1. Par. 2. That content is but lazy patience, if not misery. pag. 30. Par. 3. That women ought to go naked. pag. 54. ●●r. 4. That it is the pleasantest life to be always in danger. pag. 78. Par. 5. That Women ought to govern states rather than Men. pag. 104. Par. 6. That it is better to be lame or bedrid then lusty and able to walk abroad. pag. 135. Paradoxes By John Hall▪ Obscuris vera involuens LONDON, Printed for JOHN WA●●●●, at the Star in Popes-head Alley, MDCL. Paradoxes▪ PAR. I. That an absolute Tyranny is the best Government. SInce that power is the very life and essence of every Government, and those Governments are the most perfect, that have the most power, and that that power is most in tense, which resides in one, and more weak and faint which is dispersed among a many, since that all people hate to be Governed by their equals, and therefore chose to put themselves under an Umpire, it must needs follow, that, Lordly or absolute Monarchy is the best and most natural Government. For if all Governments, if they do not at first begin with Monarchy, yet in process of time they grow up from republciks into Monarchies as into more perfect estates▪ and all Monarchies turn into Tyrannies, after a very little time, why may we not infer that all other Governments are imperfect species till they be consummated and made tyrannical. If we conceive that most correspondent to the law of nature, which most Nations do agree in (though in other things they dissent) and that we see upon all the Globe very few and little republics, but many and vast kingdoms, we may deduce from thence, that most people, do desire to be under the sway of one, who if he be not endued with a supreme and unlimited Power, is rather their servant then their Prince, and it is but ridiculous to think that so great a part of mankind, would be content to obey their slaves. Nor doth it proceed from cowardice: for we see the old and modern Persians, the stoutest septentrional Nations, the Turks, Scythians, and Muscovites at this day, pride themselves so much in this Government, that they adore their Emperors as gods; Nor doth it proceed from Stupidity, for the wisest and politest Nations have embraced it, and though some politicians have termed it but the privation or disease of Government, yet many more, have accounted it the only best way of rule, and that from the course and order of nature, which in every kind forms a Supremacy, as the Eagle among Birds, the lion among Beasts, the Vine among Vegetables, and the ruby among stones. Nay, and Divines of all sorts except some J●suites and independents) unanimously conclude, that all Government must be obeyed without resistance; Now they assume, that Royalty is the only government that God hath ordained, and is pleased with (Kings being ectypes of him and bearing his name) and therefore they ought to be obeyed without resistance, and none ought to lift their hands against them. Now if none ought to be the least disobedient, and that Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, they invest an absolute power in them who they say are not to be controlled, for if they might be controlled, it should be for the imposition of some unjust commands, which if Subjects might actually disobey & call to account, all the world would be filled with confusion and Rebellion. But say they, Kings are only answerable to God whose Vicegerents they are, and not subordinate to any human power, and above all law, which evinced, whatsoever they do is lawful and not examinable. Besides, what more contrary to the ease and order of the people, than the multiplicity of Laws, litigious interpretations of them, and obstreperous Lawyers? but all this is cut off, and saved, when the fountain of Law is in one breast, and the people may presently know the resolution and interpretation from one that cannot do wrong. For all Law being in the King, and he by maxim not capable of doing any wrong, whatever he doth must be just and right; and what greater happiness to a people, then granting them speedy justice. The proportion of every man's spirit may be measured by his wishes: Now the greatest souls aim at nothing so much as at rule, and at no rule in comparison of that over men. Now if virtue and excellent endowments, cannot be truly rewarded with any thing that is evil; and Nature never teaches any man useless inclinations; it must follow that superiority seems to be set as a whetston and reward of virtue. And what soul would not disdain to govern, where he is pounded up with servile restrictions, and limited by those who were borne to obey him. Caesar chose rather to be the first of a Village, than the second in Rome; and would not he, think we, choose rather to have been Duke of one street of Florence, than a 〈◊〉 Pageant to 〈◊〉 the Dominion of Venic●? Now for the happiness of a State, what better way to it then peace, and what better way of preservation of peace, then by having continually ready armed force, which may quell every insurrection, and stifle it in the birth, and yet serve for outward magnificence and attendance upon the Prince? what better plentation of wealth, then to have a Court entertained with all delights, and glittering in all the ●poyles both of the Sea and Mines, and as it were triumphing in all the productions and curiosities of Art? and yet this without Prince's Courts is vainly expected. Rome had never known Nero's golden house, had it not been for Nero; nor the great Arch, had Trajan never lived; nor had Spain ever dreamed of an Esicuriall, if he had wanted a Philip. And yet things are among their chiefest and lasting glories. Besides what better way to keep a kingdom quiet then by employing the poorer sort of people, upon such works as the Prince shall either fancy or delight in? Thus we see the Pyramids at this day remaining, the fame of the place whereon they stand. And we read of the Hortipensiles of Babylon, &c. none of which had ever been done or known, had not the care and noble wisdom of the King employed the people that way, who else might have sunk into Luxury, or snorted themselves into implacable enmities. Besides, all the wisdom of the Politicians could never shape out but three kinds of Government, democracy, which is nothing but dregs and confusion, and an audacious licence to do every thing; & indeed an interstice of government, rather than government. Aristocracy, when only the nobles have the reign in their hands, and are so apt to burst into factions, that it could not thrive nor prosper anywhere. Aristotle indeed in his politics mentions some few obscure ones, and we know but one extant at this day. And Monarchy which is the only perfect system of government, which indeed includes optimacy within itself; for a Prince must have counsellors, who if they were Guardians to him, and might impose their advice, what a repugnant, inconsistent, contrary thing were a Monarch to himself. But if the last judgement of every thing be to be left to him, and no man can so absolutely rule his understanding, but that it must be somewhat swayed and biased by his will, it will follow, that it is necessary to the very essence of a Prince, to have his own will free & uncontrollable, and than what a poor thing is a Prince, if he be not obeyed. Besides, since all particulars do ascend and dissolve into universals, there must among so many private fathers, be one public Father, to be the great Archetype of all the rest. And if private fathers have such entire authority over their sons; (Nay which the Romans and some wise Nations had power of life and death over their children) it is but equitable, that public Fathers should have analogical authority over those who stand bound to them in that relation. You will say, they may be vicious persons. But their vices are only as private men, and cannot render them in their public capacity either less just or less skilful. Besides they stand open to the eyes and envy of all men, and so every little slip of theirs may be observed and blazed, which if they had been private persons, had been as obscure as Midnight. Or put the case their vices be high and big, they seldom want superior virtues to cloud and shadow them. For every thing being in great and high souls, excessive, it is impossible for them to keep a mediocrity in their vices, which are commonly illustriously great, and rather matter of observation, then hate or scorn: for the Grandeza and gaiety of them, exempts them from those poor ridiculous consequences which fall on the slips of more mean and sordid natures. And you will say, they may be ravenous: great fires must have great store of fuel; great magnificences that cannot stoop to thrift, must stray to gain, and who should better supply the head with spirits, than the lower parts of the same body? Besides the public loss is nothing all this while, for it is in the same Country, only gathered into one hand, and gloriously spent, whereas otherwise it might have been insensibly misled away in amany, & Princes what they draw up from their Subjects in Vapours, they return down to them in showers and enrich and fatten the places where ever they reside. And in case they sometimes fall heavy on private persons, 'tis but exercising that severity which the law provides against vice, and then 'tis work of excellent justice, Or if happily the parties be innocent and blameless, we should account him but a bad Citizen that would not redeem a public Burden, with his own private sufferings, & cheerfully resign up his estate when the Commonwealth, should either gain or save so much by it: But than you may object, they are Usurpers, no man envies reward to danger, and what greater danger, then for a man with all his relations and interests, to encounter a present power, which if they overthrow, 'tis fit they should enjoy the fruits of it. And then coming by this means, engages them to a great wariness, and to many flatteries and obligations of the people, which otherwise they would have neglected. And they must also walk providently, lest they leave holes for others to creep in at upon them, as they did upon their Predecessors, withal it hath been known that a many Princes have sweetened and disguised the memory of their access to Government, by making many excellent laws and provisions in their several Dominions, which hereditary and successive Princes (confident of their titles and strengthened by the stock of their Ancestors reputation) either omit, to do the contrary. You will say further, that the rays of these suns will but quicken bad humours, and beget abundance of Insecta's and Monsters, and among all Monsters none so eminently evil as Flatterers and favourites. But I pray you will you not give people that do great things leave to enjoy the poorest reward, the relation and report of them? Or in case they did nothing memorable, would you not allow them that groan under the burden of public affairs, so small a diversion and entertainment as flattery? which indeed soberly considered, is so necessary to allay the miseries of life, that the most unfortunate men, whey they want others to do it to them, do it for themselves, and pleasantly chase away all ugly thoughts and ideas by their happy feeding themselves with a few lovely dreams. For favourites, will you deny them the privilege of private persons, to make choice of their own Privadoes? or if you suffer them to make choice, will you strangle their friendships, denying a mutual interchange, and correspondence of Courtasies? Or will you be so injurious to good parts, as where you see them anywhere brightly break forth deny to entertain them? And what more powerful provocation of virtue than the aim and design of the particular affections and endearments of a Prince, which seldom pith in anybody wherein they do not find somewhat like themselves, that is, divine. In a word, since the very Heathens could see that royalty streamed forth immediately from Jove himself, and that royalty is but a dull languid thing if it be clogged with the least restriction: That Monarchy which enjoies the most perfect Liberty is, 〈…〉 with the greatest abundance of Names and Attributes. And since Duality is the very damn of Division, and the utter destroyer of all Prerogative, it is but just that all sovereignty reside in one. And even those Philosophers, which stand most stoutly for the infinity of worlds do also consent and acknowledge that there is but one God. PAR. II. That Content is but lazy Patience, if not misery. THere is no one question which hath so violently tortured the Moralists, or variously divided them then that of a chiefest good, which yet, they could never yet so determine, but that it lies open to further objections, & begets new doubts: they might (methinks) with more ease have considered the variety of men's complexions, and neglecting the search of an universal happiness, have affirmed that the Summum bonum, was only that which the particular fancy and humour of every man would be pleased to make it, for so long as their temperature climb education, custom and interests are so different, 'tis impossible to bring them to a conformity. Yet notwithstanding what they had resolved on this, had been but the production of a new falsity, if there had been a wanting of stupidity and drowsiness in men, and that Fictum impossibile of content had never been imagined. For if we consider the several ends that men propose to themselves: and find most of them either irrational and imperfect, or else unsuitable to the persons, we shall find a great deal of reason to pity mankind that distracts itself with so many monstrous and untoward thoughts, and many times bends all his endeavours to obtain that which he should be afraid to enjoy, and many times with a great deal of sweat and industrious madness, devices and labours his own ruin, so that there cannot be a greater plague to him, nor can fate more completely punish him then by resigning him over to the enjoyment of his own wishes. And put the case he should enjoy them, since he is so stupid that he cannot wish any thing truly good, he did but please himself under his burden, and deceive his understanding with glittering misery, and than what better were he then some jovial mad man, who imagines himself to be some great Prince amidst his fetters and straw, but in case he miss and should sit down without murmuring, is not that man miserable, who is frustrated of his best and dearest aims, and is forced cowardly to undergo the contrary wants; what other is this, but as if he could not dance a galliard, should swallow down opium, and think to allay his loss, but self stupification. And put the case that some few men arrive at any of these dull complacences, which most do so studiously court, what one condition wants its sting and venom: wealth canont make a man invulnerable, jealousy doth ever; honour cannot make a man secure, yet it raises up a multitude of enemies: fame can neither render a man more strong or wise, yet it is easily blasted, and when once it declines brings double ignomy; health may render a man active, and save a groan or two, yet at such a state it may arrive that it may prove a sickness; or suppose it never so constant, one poor stiletto can in an instant destroy it: now what one man can be easily satisfied with either of these when 'tis infected with such bitter ingredients, whom easily spoil all the rest of delight, which is only imaginable whilst they are real, but we love to toil for uncertainties, and in this are worse than children, who sport in raising of bubbles and such toys, but we are earnest in things more ridiculous. But we'll, suppose that any of these fooleries could be enjoyed without their inherent evils, yet surely a consideration of the uncertainty of all sublunary things, might now and then suggest a possibility of surviving them, and then what more hideous misery then to have been fortunate; and since death must either surprise all men, or overcome all men; and his stroke is as uncertain as inevitable; what man can fully please himself with that which he is not certain to enjoy a minute? But suppose a man were entirely possessed of a happiness, such a one as were perfect in itself, and he might perpetually enjoy without the least fear of loss. If it were but single, and such a one as runs in one continued current, time would make it burdensome, & repartition loathsome; for that eternity is but durance, that is not diverted by change; and those pleasures but tortures, that are not varied by sweet jealousies, or shadowed by eclipses. Who would not rather choose the rack at length, then perpetual repose upon a bed of roses? What taste would not be soon weary of the sweetest delicaties? Among all the terrors of men, death is the sharpest; of all their desires, life the strongest: Yet we see Tithon after he had obtained a petty immortality, grew weary of himself, and after a great many wishes, was very glad to shrink into a grasshopper: nay, and for this very cause, doth an old critic quarrel with Homer, for making his gods eternal, when they are subject to the passions of men, and but masters of determinate pleasures. But suppose this happiness were checkered with variety, and that there would be evernew entertainment, and new diversions, this were not content, but rather a transportation: And how can we say the soul is satisfied, when she is ever labouring of new desires, and ever stroak'd with fresh entertainments, which if ever they come to repetition, grow much more wearisome, and much more gall and spurn her. Thus have we seen many persons great and glorious in their several ages, tired with the formality of▪ their greatness, and willing to fall back even to solitude and ease. Thus did Lucullus surfeit on Asiaticke victories, and providently retire to a strange and unheard of luxury: And yet Dioclesian afterwards taking the same course, was presently wearied of that silence and secrecy, which he imagined would have been pleasing to him, and endeavoured to return again to business. Whence we may deduce, that as the most capacious souls are the most eager in their delights, so are they the least satisfied with them, and have the most violent appetitions of change; and what is this but to hate content, which is nothing but a tame slavery under the tyranny of one condition? Nay, were it possible, that variety could be endless and infinite, yet this variety would be so troublesome that a man would naturally grudge, and cry on an inordinate flux and change, and bless those lives as happiest, that regularly overacted the same things, and spent every minute according to rule and prescript. And certainly he that killed himself, out of a weariness of overacting the same things, would also have died on the contrary terms, if his life had been wafted in a perpetual variety. And if we look somewhat more nicely into the thing itself, we shall find that the sluggish Name of content never came from any other forge then the dull multitude (who though they be masters of words, are commonly enemies of reason, and therefore ought to be accounted one of those Grotesco maxims, and willies-with-wish, that do so disfigure and misguide the life of man. For alack, what is it? hath it not a sound of restraint and sufferance? and doth it not rather imply a lethargy, than any actual pastime? Joy it doth not amount unto, but rather a heavy privation of joy. It signifies rest, and imperfect acquiescence; but joy is quickened by perpetual motion, and tickled with change of pastimes, and may be content though not happy; but joyfulness immediately includes happiness: Now what a contemptible condition is that, wherein a man must be patient without either? and how can that man not be weary of himself that wants that sweet charm, that bewitches man's life into all that is lovely, Joy? And if he wants joy, he wants happiness; and if his unhappiness be accompanied with ignorance, is he not I pray, wrapped up in a double misfortune? Since the plague of ignorance is the greatest that can fall upon men, the badge of our forefather's sin and our slavery; and that very weight which sinks us down from our erect constitution, into the cernuous lowness of beasts. Besides, content is a mere mortification and eradication of the passions, those excellent wings and engines of the soul; but joy doth both enliven and heighten them, she both stirs them up and tutors them, whereas the other mangles and fetters them. And whereas joy is like an itch, which spreads further by that delightful madness of rubbing and chasing: content merely mortifies the mind, and so brings in a gangreen, and a gangreen is followed with no milder attendants, then cutting and burning. But suppose you miscall happiness content, yet were there not such a thing in nature. For as Boetius hath demonstrated, there is but one great happiness, and that made up of a complete variety of those things whose shadows we so much adore; and that no man can be happy till he be made in some measure a Deity. And how far we poor pismires that crawl upon this hill, are from it, let anybody judge. Some Emperors indeed, drunk with their prosperity, have and still assume this Title, yet they die like men. Nay and in the very height of this vanity are ashamed of their parasites, and confute all these portentous attributes, by the stings and whispers of their own thoughts. Nor indeed if we should feign a reality in such a conceit, is the soul capable of receiving it. For as she hath a kind of a circumscribed ubiquity within herself, so hath she a limited, as I may say, immensity: And therefore is restless and extravagant in her appetitions and desires, and like the heaven from whence she first came, is carried on in a perpetual motion, which Content endeavouring to stop, doth but in a manner stifle, and by consequence annihilate her. Besides, she being a thing of such a strange capacity and wide comprehension, it is impossible that any determinate narrow thing, much less, some fragment or fraction of it, should be supposed of a proportion to fill her. Since it is thus, it easily follows what an unworthy thing it is in man to set up his rest upon any of these toys, and to dote upon one particular shadow in a broken mirror, where he cannot see that face which would have irradiated one entire image in the whole; for since all pleasures here are but petty frustillations, and parcels of the whole, and therefore have lost of its nature, like crystal beaten to pieces, being opaque, which otherwise would have been Diaphanous; 'tis but a folly to look after them, since we can never find them all, or if we would, cannot unite them: I must conclude, that man must like a Cilinder bee perpetually rolled on his own Axis, and as much as lies in him avoid, to be mishapen, and squared, by the violence of any heavy phlegmatic morality. PAR. III. That Women ought to go naked. THough we may justly incur the displeasure of the Women in asserting this Thesis, by divesting of them of all that the tailor contributes, which is as much as to deprive them of the best part of themselves; yet I am sure I shall have the pardon, if not the favour of most of mankind, or at least the most noble and flourishing part of it, youth, which are the only judges in this case. As for those things which they call old men, I except against them, as a generation of decrepit and withered understandings, a people whose minds, could they be looked into, would prove infinitely more monstrous than their bodies, and such as like old monkeys, having either gnawed away, or lost their tails, read lectures to young ones to cut theirs too. But I positively affirm, that what was done in the primitive times, when our reason was not depraved with long traditional customs, nor tinctured by any prevalescent humour, is most consonant to the law of Nature, and consequently ought most to be followed. But Adam and Eve we know was so far from being clothed, that it was the great mark of their liberty and uprightness, and the first brand that stigmatised them after their fall. Nor indeed did the ages that presently succeeded that, either grow up into garb or fashion, but continued with a very little variation, and possibly what their progenitors did only with figleaves, they supplied with kidskin aprons. Yea, and those Nations who have not alienated their naked simplicity, either by commerce, or busy inventions, do as yet retain this open integrity, and declines not into these unworthy sophistications of Garments; as was observed in many of the Indians at the first discovery, who living merely among themselves, and by their own peculiar customs, it is to be supposed retained most among them, of that which nature desired, to be kept pure and unvaried. Not to say, that all men naturally desire to go uncovered, yet certainly it is a shrewd suspicion of it, that when the sun returns to this side our Horizon, they know no better way to congratulate the presence of that fruitful light, then by putting on thin or open clothes, and frequent bathings, which is no other: but, since that Tyrant custom prohibits them absolute nakedness, they would approach it as near as they can, and surely it must either be happiness or excellent duty, that they strive to perform it upon that occasion. But in women, these desires are far more intense, for they we see, do at all times uncover the part of their chiefest beauty, as their face, neck, breasts and hands, so that they do endeavour in part to break that restraint which hides the rest of their glory, and to set forth their delicate Tresses plaited and weaved with such variety, their ivory necks, their harmonious faces, their milky spherical breasts; and their melting hands. And though possibly jealousy may cause all these to be hid, yet 'tis but violation: and the weather, yet that is but providence, or possibly company, yet that is but compliance, for what woman is there, the beast exempted from deformity, that could not wish that all her garments were of Lawn and transparent, rather than rich and gorgeous. For if, as Plato says, souls unwillingly depart out of fair Bodies, that must needs be a curious mansion, which so fine a substance as the soul is in love with, and then I pray you can you blame the owner to delight in it, and what a torment is delight if it be shut up in one breast, and not defused into a lively communication, for all kind of blessings multiply by their division, and what greater blessing, than a rare symmetry and contexion of feature, which can charm knowledge into admiration, and majesty into love. We give to all the virtues the habits and visages of women, and of all the virtue's Truth is the best (for Truth is the mother of Justice, and Justice they say, comprehends them all) yet she is naked, though she love the public and hate corners, and is it not very fit that all the sex should imitate such an excellent pattern and Mistress? It may be objected, that this would produce infinite provocations and incitements to lust: but I say not; for I dare say, that what by painting, what by the looseness and change of garments, what by these gaudy inventions of dressings, that flexure and fracture of gate, the deformity is hidden, unless to a very nice eye, there is much more fuel added, then if all went with no more mantles than Nature thrust them into the world with; hair hanging loosely down, or else carelessly gathered up in a fillet, and perhaps some little kind of cover, that might restrain the Virgin all flower, from being too much gazed at, and blown upon. Nay, this experience will tell us, for Lerius avows, that in his voyage to Brazill, affirms he had fewer insurrections among that naked simple people, than he had had among the curiosities and adulterated beauties of his own Country. For indeed if we consider it aright, there is nothing that doth so much puff up lust, as the circumstances of rich apparel, curious dressings, and strong perfumes, which screw up the apprehension, and fix the imagination upon somewhat that is great. So that by this means, we know a number of great persons zealously courted to have their appetites satisfied; whereas if they were either left naked, or reduced to a vulgar garb, they might lie fallow, or be indicted for Witches. But indeed nakedness restores women to themselves; for what an irregular height doth Venetian Chippins mount them to? What Towers do the Turkish Tires wear upon their womens' heads? How are the Grecians buried in clothes? How do the dressings of all Nations disguise them? that they must put off their Masquine habits, or be taken to pieces like watches ere they can be enjoyed; and to what other end, I pray, were they made? The customs of Countries are different, and that garb is majestic at one place, which is ridiculous or sordid in another. All people have not the same conceptions of beauty; which is as hateful to an Ethiopian as black to us: But once uncloathe women, and they are all the same; but the conceptions about the harmony and measures of a body differ not. And what greater right can we do to women, then to bring them to be judged by one rule? And since every woman judges herself the fairest, she that would be backward to this arbitrament, would be diffident of herself, and consequently a Rennagade from her sex. The three goddesses in Ida designed to be stripped to the view, & the single examination of a shepherd; and Comines will tell you, that she was a Princess that appearing in a lawn smock to be viewed by ambassadors, as towards a marriage, said she would put off that too, if there were any necessity: For as there is an inextinguishable jealousy and emulation among women, so there is an unmeasurable pride; and pride arising out of confidence will never decline judgement: And what better way of judgement, than those rules, which the voices of all men conclude upon? for a woman may paint a green or yellow cheek as easily as a red; but the sweet composure and measure of her body, her thighs, breast or visage, limbs, she cannot alter. And how imperfectly are they to be seen through clothes, which may hide and falsify many things, which may truly be discerned in a veracious nakedness. There have two great blemishes ever lain upon this sex; the uncertainty and change of their judgements, and their inconstancy in their clothes and carriage. And how can either be better removed, then if they were once reduced into such a posture as they should all necessarily agree in, and they had not liberty to change? And I pray what other way is there, unless you make them all naked. But than they may complain, that take away their Arts and their Ornaments, they shall want of their complacency, and provocations to their husbands. But notwithstanding, they have liberty enough left them, they may die, or pounce, or figure their flesh, they may have abundance of cheap artificial ornament from shells, feathers, and stones; and since the deeds of our Ancestors are left us for example, the old Danes and Britains may be imitated in this, for dying and carrying: And since it is fit to borrow the customs of other people, if they be useful, and fit to be assumed, there may be seen choice of dressings enough in the one, and the other Indies. In a word, since the sun, the moon, and all the glorious battalia of heaven, appear as Nature made them, since the strongest and most handsome animals are satisfied in their own natural Vestures, and the most ugly and deformed repine not, since the most delicate and aromatic flowers are not ashamed of their barks or prickles, which are commonly unsightly, if not offensive. 'tis but an irregular and morbid desire in women, who are the masterpieces of Nature, and of that sort of her productions, wherein she is most vainglorious, and emulous to undo herself, to descend to these poor, little adulterations of Art, which are so far beneath her as the most exquisite artificial thing in the world, is below the most careless production of Nature. PAR. IV. That it is the pleasantest life to be always in danger. THough I am not ignorant what danger I incur both with timorous and severe men in asserting this Paradox: yet since it pleases me extremely, and carries not with it the least allay, either of suspicion or fear; I am apt to believe that all actions of this like nature, are to a wise man accompanied with the same assurance and satisfaction: And this I am the proner to affirm, because (according to the right method of disputation) first stating the word, and freeing of it from ambiguities, I find that this is just a chimaera, and a notional nothing. For if we say there is such a thing as danger before hand, it may be fear, or misinformation, yet possibly the danger may never touch us: If we consider it in the present tense, and really effected, 'tis not Danger but misery. And if we consider it in preter tense, 'tis past and gone. Now since all time is comprehended under these three terms, and this falls under none of them, it follows that this hath no time at all, which being inseparable to every existence, as the measure of its duration, it will be evident, that Danger is a mere nonentity, and those that fear it, fear just nothing. In the comparison of good and evil, we ever account those evils the least, which are the leastlasting, and è contra those goods the best, which are the most constant and durable. Now for Dangers, supposing that we should grant them to be evils, what more courteous and slight evils could we wish for, than those that are come and gone in a minute. But dangers are so far from that, that they are commonly sooner past then known, but the remembrance of them remains perpetually fresh, and bring every day new circumstances to claw the understanding. Nay, and such a faithful good it is, that no malice of fortune can bereave us of, but it stays with us in other miseries, whereas friends, Patrimony, honour, can quickly vanish, and as we can no more grasp them then a shadow, so can we no more recommand them than call back yesterday. But supposing danger such a thing as ought possibly to be feared, since all wise men agree with the Stoics in this, that we ought not to be troubled for things which are not in our power, and we cannot help; and that the life of man is beset with such a many contingencies, which may every minute either surprise or assault us, what a madness were it, to anticipate our inevitable miseries, and like him in Florus, throw away our gold for fear of losing it. Furor est ne moriare mori. Yet since Death will at last conquer us, and they call it the {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} the madness of men hath not showed itself more in any thing then in their fear of it. Some assassinating themselves for fear of assassination, and therein showing at once an act of the greatest cowardice and cruelty (for every thing must needs love itself the best) that is possible. Others execute▪ themselves by lingering deaths and tortures of their fears, and so make it a punishment greater than nature ever meant it. Morsque minus poenae, quod mora mortis habet. whilst that gravest, and most sober men put it only inter munera Naturae, and by their frequent composures, even at the very instant of their dissolution confute the horror of it. And if this great bugbear of mankind, when its vizard is off, prove such a tame foolery, I wonder what the petty Dangers must shrink into. There is nothing among all the excellencies of mankind, more shining than knowledge and courage, and both these without dangers would be dull, heavy, and unactive habits. What use were there for knowledge if we met not with the mazes and intricacies of life? and what more wise, than a present ingenuity in avoiding dangers, or a vast conduct in preventing them, or a sly dexterity in weakening them. If there were no storms at Sea, what use were Pilots of, but talkative Burdens: but upon the first outrage of a storm, they are the only things that are called upon and worshipped. For Courage 'tis only seen in danger, and without them, Hares and Lions are of equal fortitude, great souls that dare affront dangers are therein tried, and move at that time in their natural motion, and to its own proper motion every thing hath an appetency, and therefore must necessarily delight in it. And can there be a greater pleasure to a man then for so small a trifleas his own heart should enable him to conquer a monster or a multitude. This the ingenuous Ovid knew well enough, and therefore after he had completely armed Cadmus, he says he had a mind— Telo praestantior omni. For indeed such minds, are like gold purified by the fire of dangers, and exalted up to their due perfection. And if Nature do so cheerfully, even in her vegitative things embrace every advantage, may we not think that rational souls have these desires so much the more stronger, by how much their Natures are the more noble. For the passive part of fortitude, 'tis so far from being a traitor to the happiness of man, that it inebriates the mind in all calamities, and makes them luscious; nay restorative unto her. Now this without danger could not be, for jealousy ever attends upon misery, and there is none holds fast one link of it but he may justly fear for to catch another. What greater misery than poverty which threatens by flying from us, and is a negative enemy? yet Baucis and Philemon by enduring of it. Effecere levem— And since what is not burdensome to us but light, must needs please us, and that a man is never himself but when he exercises his head or his heart, which without dangers he could not do, it is evinced, that we are beholding to them, as the spriteful spurs, and dear entertainments of the life of man. Moreover, man delights in nothing so much as in fame, and how can he be more glorious than by showing a serenity, nay gladness amidst so many enemies as dangers are? Or what can be more delightful to him, then to see he is so much his own master, that he can defy all casualties, and either carelessly contemn them, or expect them with confidence. What more pernicious to whole Armies, nay even insulting Conquerors, than security? what better means to frighten away securities than dangers? which must needs be of a very sovereign virtue, that are a means to preserve whole Armies, and of a most diffusive fruitful nature, that when they appear lest they are greatest. Besides, rewards are proportioned unto dangers; which shows them of a worthy, and deserving nature, and therefore many men have been called the saviours of their Country at one time, for some little performances, which if they had done at another, would hardly have been noted, and hence it is that many great stratagematick wits, have no better ways either of startling their enemies, or retaining their friends, then by increasing the show of their dangers. Now what other means, if Tyrants had to possess themselves of Guards, to bring the people into commiseration then by this only pretence, which necessarily shows how powerful and popular dangers are, and what attendance they require (which shows their majesty) that they whom they once threaten, must immediately be secured, for what else are guards but honourable imprisonment? But if the shadow, and mere representation of dangers, what is the substance and dangers themselves, when a man's in safety few regard him, many may envy him: but falling once into danger, tears, commiseration, relief, and that possible from his enemies, which is the sweetest of all, come unto him. Since we have manifested, the rare use and necessity of dangers, it will not be hard for us now; to show them of that Gallant Cordial Nature, that they closely accompany the best things, and immediately flow from our most apparent happinesses, from which they are no more separable than heat from light. And are not I pray you the best things ever in the greatest danger, Purselain and Venice Glasses are the most apt to be broke, the richest flowers are the soonest pulled, the goodliest Stag, will be soonest shot, the best Faces do the soonest decay, the best men are most liable to envy, the richest to spoil, or indeed, what better in all the world, than that divine stone of the chemists, yet men in the achieving of it, do commonly hazard both their brains and subsistence, and in case they come near an end, it is a very good escape if their glasses be not melted or broken, or evil spirits, as Flamell admonishes, do not through envy blind their eyes, and spoil all the work. But indeed to consider the thing aright, dangers are so incorporated and mingled with the best courses of life, that like Hippocrates twins they both live and die together. What more fortunate then to be the favourite of a Prince, yet the thrones of Princes themselves are not placed on Cubes, nor are those Cubes founded on Rocks, or cemented with brass; there is a sword hangs by a horse hair perpetually o'er their heads, and they may die by the cornel of the grape, by a hair, by a prick, as well as other men, and then where's the Favourite, does not he hold by a poor Tenure, that has no more assurance? and can he promise himself continuance in case of the change of the Lord: or suppose the greatness of his Master were constant and durant, how shall he be assured of the same constancy of his affection? or be free from that secret undermining of that vast faction and a dangerous precipitation in his fall? and yet notwithstanding all this, who would not choose, nay, wish to be the Privado of a Prince? so that it was but pusillanimously said of him who was of an opinion, that if a Crown were lying on the ground, and men knew with what thorns it was lined, they would hardly take it up. For if we will consider the principal courses of life, which men imagine to themselves will be the most pleasant and fullest of delight, we shall find them attended with depending inconveniences and dangers. What greater piece of allurement than the company and conversation of women and yet this for the most part brings on venereal diseases which are the most nasty, dangerous, and worse to be rooted out of any whatsoever? What life seems more royal and magnificent then to be perpetually feasting? And yet this brings on surfeits, gouts, and other diseases that make a man miserable even to his grave. What greater or more compendious way to profit then merchandise, which notwithstanding is every hour subject to hazard, that a man's life and substance being committed to wind and water, two of the most uncertain things in the world, are continually, but two or three inches from destruction. Since we have been so far in danger, it were a sin not to be in debt, since debt and danger, accompany on the other, and methinks if a man would but consider these great enjoyments which men in this condition have, he must needs say there is somewhat in it, much more pleasant than the vulgar imagine, who though they think it an estate, wherein there is nothing but misery and the uttermost calamity of fortune, yet is it quite otherwise: For first, a man having past the Meridian of his fortune, sets and rests without noise, he is not entangled with dependencies, needs neither to care for public burdens or miseries, but is wholly withdrawn into himself. Besides what nobler duty is there of mankind, than to give every man his own, and this he is perpetually solicited to, nor does he want his daily attendance and visitations, which the greatest Favourites in the cadence of their fortunes miss; nor can he ever be unprovided for, since at the utmost, he is sure of lodging and good company. All which put together will amount to this, that since dangers are not only unavoidable, but even consequential to the greatest pleasures, it were a madness to avoid the one for fear of the other. And certainly Damocles very little understood the value of a royal entertainment, when for fear of the sword hanging at a horse hair over his head, he could not enjoy himself out of that noble feast that was set before him. That Women ought to govern States rather than Men. Paradoxes V 5. I Have sometimes wondered how it came to pass that the late Knights errant of philosophy, who have assaulted and pulled down the whole frame of Nature, and rebuilt it according to their several Chymericall humours, not sparing the very Heavens, but either Tumbling down or dislocating its Orbs, never contenting themselves with usual and, common remedies, but running in quest after odd Sympathetical and Universal Medicines, have among all the rest of their extravagances forgot to transfer the Powers of the World from men that have held them hitherto, into the hands of women, since a sceptre is not more heavy than a distaff, and a cap of State very near as soon made and embellished as some headtires. Was it that they knowing such a superiority too cruel and insupportable at home, thought it in conscience too dangerous to recommend to the public? Or finding that the croaking of such Night-ravens wrought more upon many great Persons than the sound of a Trumpet, thought they, they possessed in reality though invisibly, and therefore not needing any alterations? Or else (according to their manner) considered they this as a business not concerning life, and therefore neglected it as inconsiderable? Certain it is that those, who have employed their deepest resveries in the Transformation of commonwealths, and made them such as unless men were good Angels they could not live in them, or if they were devils might possibly be forced unto peace, there is not one of them but hath forgot to set down this most excellent and considerable piece of reformation. Yet since we all ought to give up our endeavours to the promotions of Truth, and finding out of new lights, I could not be backward in so disquisitive and Restless an Age as this is, to offer my mite unto the public Treasury. And therefore I stick not to affirm, that Domination and government is not only lawful and tolerable in women, but Justly, Naturally, & properly theirs. First then, though some Crazy philosophers drunk and besotted with Aristotelism, have endeavoured to devance them from the same Species, with men; and others madder than they to deny them souls, yet when we shall oppose holy scripture, which makes man the consummation of the creation, and them the consummation of man, if we would cite those high Attributes the Rabins give unto them, or instance those particular indulgences of Nature, which Agrippa reckons unto them, or those peculiar advantages of composition and understanding which Zacutus Lusitanus ascribes them, not to mention that of Trismegistus (reputed the Ancientest and most divine Heathen writer) who calls them Fountains and perfections of Goodness; nay, and shall add to this that which must even stop the Mouth of Barbarism itself, to wit, the high estimation put upon them even by the Mahometans, who in them place the greatest pleasures of their paradise) it must needs be acknowledged, that those assertions are as irrational as may be, and consequently consonant to that philosophy. And indeed this is a quarrel wherein Nature hath declared herself a most interested party, that we need go no farther than the judgement of our eyes (the quickest and surest that man can make) to decide the controversy. For whom can we imagine to be so insensible, as not to be presently touched with the delicate composure and Symmetry of their bodies. The sweetnesses and killing languors of their eyes, the meslange and harmony of their colours, the happiness and spirituality of their countenances, the charms and allurements of their Mine, the Air and command of their smiles, so that it is no wonder if Plato said, that Souls were unwilling to depart out of such fair bodies, whereas men are mere-rough-cast, bristly and made up of tough materials; & if they approach any thing near beauty, do so much degenerate from what they are. This gains us our main topic. For if the majesty or comeliness of the person of a governor gain so much upon the people as Politicians have observed, and experience teaches it doth, what advantage have they in Magically chaining and winning of the People given them by Nature, which the other cannot obtain by Art, for who would not be sooner smitten with Tresses curiously snaked and built up by a ravishing Architecture then with Commodus hair though powdered with Gold? who would not adore a face glowing with all kind of sweetnesses rather than a countenance Savage with bristles or indented with sores? That this is a truth, needs so little Demonstration, that looking but into any story, you shall find, even the greatest conquerors, lusty and proud in their triumphs, humbled and brought on their knees by some fair enchantress. This we account admirable in Alexander and Scipio that they could avoid, in Caesar and Mark Anthony we pardon it in respect of the greatness of their other actions. And therefore if great Captains and founders of Empires be things of a more excellent nature, then ordinary lazy governors that creep in by succession, or be stilted by election, and these people have ever commanded them, and made them decline in their very meridians, hath not nature think we given them a Priority, and enjoy they it not in effect, though they seem not to enjoy it in show? But a martial-man, you will say, is a savage brutish thing, a thing that knows how to run into dangers and to despise them, one whose thoughts are always at random and abroad, seldom with drawn and upon their guard, and therefore it is no wonder, if such men be easily surprised with such dazzling trifles. But when a man tells you, that even the wisest men, have been strange doters on this sex, and absolutely given up to them, it will change the case. I suppose there is no man thinks Solomon a fool, and it is well known, how these white Devils seduced him. Augustus, that was certainly one of the steadiest men in the world, one that in his youth outwitted the hoary senate, was all his life time led by one Livia, who had that great prevalescence with him, that he by her means disposed the succession of the Empire upon a son of her womb by a former husband, though he had nearer kindred of his own. But to make this yet plainer, age we say begets wisdom, now how general the affection of old Men is to Women needs no proof, especially the older they grow, some of threescore, marrying girls of sixteen, and therefore it is a clear Argument of the truth of this point, and of the wisdom of those reverend seniors that proceed accordingly. Besides, as certainly there wants not its reason in Philosophy, that all virtues are of this we plead for; so we may, in the perusal of History, find as many fair and brave examples of virtue given by women as there hath been by men. Look over the ●oul of them, and ye may easily fill each of them into a sufficient common place, where many things put down as nobly done by men, it may be are either brutish, heady, or passionate, whilst in the woman things appear more smooth and temperate. Or if there be any thing of passion or exorbitancy, it is but an addition of lustre to their sex, as a blush, or glowing in the face sets off their beauty. Now if it be necessary, that governors should be of good entertainment, affable, open of countenance, and such as seem to harbour no crooked or dark design, no men, can be so fit for Government as women are. For besides their natural sweetness and innocency, their talk, is commonly directed to such things as it may easily be inferred, that their heads are not troubled about making of Wars, enlarging of Empires, or founding of Tyrannies. So if we consider both what hath been said, and that even those attributes, which are to be most wished for in a governor are in them we shall clearly gain what we desire: What greater happiness to a people than to have a governor that's religious? Now all Philosophy and Experience teaches us, that the softest minds are most capable of these impressions, and that women are for the most part more violently hurried away by such agitations than men are. How few men-Prophets do histories afford us incomparison to Prophetesses; and even at this day, who such absolute followers of the Priests as the women are? If you wish them merciful, these are the tenderest things on the earth; They have tears at command, and if tears be the effect of pity and compassion, and pity and compassion be the mother of virtue, must we not think that mercy rules most in them, and is the soonest expected from them? If you wish affection to the Country; where can you better have it? Have not the women many times cut of their Hairs, to make Ropes▪ for Engines and Strings for bows? Have they not given up all their Rings and Jewels to defray charges? Have they not been content to perish with their husbands in their habitations, and what greater love of country can be shown? And how great would this be, if a woman looks upon herself as the mother of her Country? What tenderness would she not have towards the people her children? When you see private women sometimes show such extraordinary effects thereof, that it comes near dotage or madness. Or would you have affection to the people at home? No effect so violent, as that of women: murders, banishments, proditions have been but small matters thence arisen, and what Tragical effects their despairs have brought, Poets and Romances will abundantly show. Thus were this noble sex restored to that right which nature hath bestowed on it, we should have all Quiet and Serene in common-wealths-Courts would not be taken up with factions and underminings, but all would flow into pleasure and liberty. Instead of moulding of Armies, we should be preparing of masks, and instead of depressing of Factions, we should have balls & amorous appointments. So that men might follow their handicrafts, oxen might Plow, Mill-horses drive about the wheel, whilst all this labour, & sweat should serve but for the furtherance and easiness of the Court. Then also should we have no Wars, which Slectingius and Socinus argue so much, and the people pray so much against. For women, being of tender conditions, and most part of sedentary lives, would not engage in such rough employments, proper only for man, who is only the best kind of savage, over whom they have also this privilege, that they can bring forth the greatest conquerors, but man can only destroy them. Neither for several emergencies have they wanted their active valour, whereof they want not their several Instances. Nay, some nations have unanimously grown up into it, as the Amazons of old, and I believe, were it not for the usurpation of men at this day, we might have seen something modern very like them, and Sir Walter Raleigh, needed not have been at the trouble to have fetched them from Guyana. Withal we know, how necessary it is in every statesman to be master of all the Artifices and slights that may be to gain upon them he deals with. Now if any can be fitter for this than women, I am much deceived. For what by their importunities, glances, trains, slights ambushes, artifices, and little infidelities, it is as impossible to escape them, as to go— per ignes. Suppositos cineri doloso. But I see a volley of Objections coming on, but yet such, as I shall easily escape unhurt. You will say they will be inconstant, fitter they for all occasions of business. They can turn and tack about according as the wind serves, and so will never shipwreck, whereas many Princes have split themselves and their posterity by being too Obstinate in one course. You'll say they will be proud. But what more proper than Majesty and high deportment in a governor; without pride how should there be reverence and without reverence how should there be subjection? You will say they will be too delicate and gay. This is but to keep the imaginations of the people aloof, which must necessarily be heightened by such curious deceptions, which are as needful for them, as the Arcana Imperij are for the men. You'll say they are talkative. So much the better for the people, whereas dark and obscure Princes, that either mean nothing or ambiguously leave the people in suspense, and make liberty either dangerous, or flattery misconstrue it. You'll say they'll be cruel? I would fain know what King, take the wisest or the best, ever boggled much if a head or two were in his way. And therefore why should we condemn them for what is so usually practised. And lastly you will say they are unwise. But I pray you how many sots, and naturals, and changelings by virtue of succession have mounted the Throne? Things it may be of obstinate natures to boot, whereas women, cannot be worse 〈◊〉 worst: and withal are more easy and supple to be guided by wise counsellors. We must therefore conclude, that as women bring forth children into the world, as they multiply themselves into these visible and corporeal souls, and after they have brought them forth, are most tender and careful to bring them up; So it is most fitting, having all these preeminences and indulgences of nature, that when they were brought up, they should also have the Government of them. For a Potter would think it a hard measure, if after the pitcher were made, it should fly in his face. That it is better to be lame or bedrid, than lusty and able to walk abroad Paradox. VI. IT is an inherent folly in mankind to be so indulgent to itself, or rather too fondly tender, that whatsoever it either commonly enjoys, or sees others usually enjoy, that it thinks to be the fittest and the happiest, as being blindly led by example, and hurried away by its first thoughts whereas if it truly descended into a strict scrutiny and consideration of things, it would be easily found, that many things, which to appearance and taste are gay and wholesome, are in the use and fruition clean the contrary, and many such things as we think make other men happy, are but burdens and inconveniences to them, and such, as if we ourselves were condemned to enjoy, we should make it part of our first wishes to be dispensed withal. To go no farther for instance than the very business of Walking, and confinement to a bed or chamber, how much seems the one to be valued, and how much irksome appears the other: whereas if they were both stripped into a naked consideration, there is nothing but trouble, and a kind of servitude in the one, and repose and acquiescence in the other. For if man were to be valued by the continuation or frequency of his motions, a spaniel or a wild Beast were certainly the more noble thing, and much more a volatile that is not chained and shackled to the earth, but can roam abroad in the air, and descend at pleasure. Whereas a quiet and sedentary posture of life, wherein a man is in a manner naturally disfranchised of foreign and outward disturbances, and wholly collected into himself, must be much a braver posture of life, and more suitable, to that high & contemplative nature, which his great maker hath endowed him with. Not that this is to be understood of fixed and painful chronical diseases, which rend and tear the mind asunder, even with the body (for certainly its very pleasant to hear the Stoics direct a man not to groan or change countenance at a fit of the stone or colic, as though a man's mind could absolutely be abstracted from his senses, to which it is so straightly conjoined) but I mean of such imperfections or weaknesses, as confine a man only to his Chamber or a Couch, leave him his soul free and at liberty to exercise those noble functions that her nature leads her to. For to run upon a common place of contemplation (which by this means, must be strangely advanced) as it were not only unnecessary, so may it be objected, that the freest and most active men might take such enjoyment, if they pleased, and confine themselves at their pleasure. But it is answered, when it is said that all the businesses troubles and inconveniences of life are hereby avoided, that a man ●s safe within himself, unengaged to any long or tedious attendances, unconcerned in any factions ruling in a state, excused from all those duties and peevish employments, or to say better, slaveries under superior governors, they must needs acknowledge, that it were much better for a man thus quietly & serenely to be his own prisoner, then with a great deal of pains and trouble carry shackles about him under the mere denomination of a Freeman. We may add to this that going in man, seems to be one of the greatest marks of his mortality and weakness, Serpents, which were cursed to crawl upon their bellies, curl and vary themselves so finely in their progressive motions, that it is no less wonder and delight to see them, than to behold man himself, that claims the Monarchy, walk upright, and hale one leg after another. And therefore the ancient Poets, though they indiscreetly enough attributed most of the passions and infirmities of men to their titular Gods, yet this was such a weakness and imperfection, that they durst not do it, and therefore Virgil speaking of Venus says. Et vera incessu patuit Dea. Which as a modern Poet hath englished it— — She did not go, And step like us, but awfully did flow, And swim to sight, Intimating, that even the motion of such miserable Divinities, must needs be nobler and more vigorous, than the poor and weak haltings of common man. Nor is it much to be urged, that nature recompenses this sometimes in others by extraordinary swiftness, for not to say, that such are very few, and these in a manner useless, rather made indeed for matches than service: who was ever yet heard of that could outrun a Hart or a Barbary, or to make equal journeys with a Dromedary? And if it should be supposed that they were able to do so, that were nothing but declining into the nature of those creatures, and falling back from their own worth into that Glass. Besides we are to consider the means, by which men commonly arrive at lameness, and and those for the most part are honourable. For as there are but few diseases that cause it, so it proceeds for the most part either from hurts, or loss of members which must needs be from a man's particular valour, or else received in the defence of his country. If it be the former, what greater assurance can you have of a high and a daring soul, than to sacrifice one's limbs to the sense and tenderness of honour. If the latter, what more noble and generous martyrdom can be imagined than to loose part of what we brought into the world with us, as a sacrifice to that common mother, to whom we owe all we have, or to speak a little more pressingly, to all the interests both of our Altars and chimneys, Friends, Children, Laws and Liberties. Certainly upon this occasion one man may safely and rationally be more proud of a pair of Crutches, than another man, who hath merely obeyed the agitations and stings of ambition, aught in conscience to be of a triumphal chariot. To all this we are to add, that we, by this means enjoying rest, enjoy that which all things, even to the lowest inanimates tend unto with a strong appetency, stones themselves violently rush down to their Centre, & increase their motion, when they approach it; flames and fire mount upward impatient of these unctuous and Sulphureous Prisons, to which we confine them. All things tend to quiet and rest. Consider but even the nature of things, and it will be found but a mechanical protrusion, clashing and arietation of atoms, which scuffles being once ceased, they rest in shapes, and quiet themselves into a Body. But to go no further than the mind of man, all the passions and traverses of it, are but so many hurries and tempests, and they must be calmed before a man can see himself, as waters must be smoothed which a man would make a mirror of. Or if a man give himself to the pursuit of sciences; there is no way so advantageous as quiet and a serene attendance upon our thoughts. Hence it was that the Poets secluded the Muses to Mount Parnassus, to Fountains and Groves, as knowing that Cities were not places for any profound and abstractive meditations, and consequently much conversation an enemy unto it. Out of this reason I believe it was that Sir Henry Wotton, after so many Embassies and Negotiations concluded an Epigraphe of his. Tandem hoc didici animas sapientiores fieri quiescendo. But lest I may seem to speak without ground, and not out of Experience, and the things themselves, as many subtle and airy wits have done, whose contemplations have been rarified into such thinness, that they have vanished into nothing, things and actions being ever the best furniture and directors of conceptions, whilst the mind itself, towering merely by the strength of its own notions, either loses itself in its height, or falls down out of weariness, it will be but necessary that I quote an example or two, the one of a Spaniard, the other of a countryman; the one of as little merit as he hath much fame; the other of very small fame, considering the greatness of his worth. 'Tis Ignatius Loyola, and Mr Anthony Bacon, son to the Lord Keeper Bacon, Brother to the Lord chancellor. The first being a Spanish soldier, and becoming bedrid of his wounds recollected that great mind of his which had been usually employed in war, into that fatal invention of the Order of the Jesuits, which as in its increase, it is in a manner miraculous, so in its discipline, it is no less. For of what profession, physic excepted, hath it not brought forth excellent men in great numbers? How have they outstripped all other Orders in a few years, and were it not for their blind cursed dependence upon the Pope, whereby they even wilfully put out their own reason, and that they are a sort of men absolutely given to the aggrandization of their own society, they were certainly to be imitated by the best Governments on the earth. But as physicians say, that too good a posture of health is sickness, because the humours, being in Equilibration may the sooner be overturned; and we see the most admirable inventions have brought along with them their inconveniences, so is this sort of men, out of an intended harmless society, grown up into such artifice and insinuation of State, that like your sutlest poisons, they work most dangerously and subtly unseen, and have been so inconsistent with civil government, that France once banished them for a time, and the state of Venice for ever. For the other as he writ nothing, so his infirmity withheld him from doing much. He that could but consider the marvellous spirit of his Brother, the difference of lameness put into the scale, might easily shape an idea of him, but with this disproportion, the one towered into all the heights of sciences, and like an Eagle was one of the first that could behold intellectual truth, the other dived into the secrets of state, and like a cruel Mineralist, left no vein unsearched. The one had a hand larger than his Fortune, for all those great offices and preferments he passed through, supplied only his state and liberality into a great debt and a poverty not fit to be mentioned to posterity without ignominy to his Prince. The other had a providence so much greater than his necessities, as you may say exceeded on the other side. He was a great transactor for the Essex faction, when they and the house of the cecils, upon the setting of Queen Elizabeth, strove who should be the greatest adorers of rising King James. He wanted not kindred on the other side, which he knew very well, and so cunningly used it, that by throwing out doubtful and suspicious words when he lay bedrid, he got Essex house in the Strand given him at one time which, what he sold it for, Sir Henry Wotton will tell you, and also ask you this question What he would have done if he had been able to walk. Certainly he was a man of a vast and a regular mind, so great a Commander of himself, and so much a master in the Arts of life and Government, that his Brother the high chancellor was not to be blamed, when he wished his infirmity upon himself, so that the other might go abroad about her majesty's service? What I have said of this head, that is to say, of Natural restraint, as I may so call it, I believe may very well serve also for civil restraint or imprisonment, which though for the most part it be but temporary, as the other is, and assures not of a continuation so long as life, yet it seems to be accompanied with more horrors and more dangers. For being inflicted by the civil Magistrate, it seems but as an earnest of some further punishment. But if we examine the grounds upon which most men are thrown into goals, which we find to be either for the breach of some law, or for denying to act some what against law, or else such as whose attempts have not been answered with success, there will not any thing so formidable be found in it. For if it be the former, it is our deserts, and we ought to submit to it, as to that which the law imposeth upon us for our demerits, and at most it is but a gentle schooling for an error, wherein the progress of the party offending is hindered, and it may be his final ruin prevented, while in the mean time he is at leisure to look into himself, and to make use of his experience for future causes. If it be the second, what more noble occasion in the world of suffering, than in denying obedience to unjust commands, which certainly may assure and pacify any resolved and constant honesty, amidst the greatest torments, much more restraint. For what greater satisfaction can any man have, than the fruition of his integrity though it be clouded and covered with never so much misfortune? And for the third, since it is not much more than the fortune of the war, and every man that attempts must needs hazard, it were unworthiness and pusillanimity to attempt if a man will not be content with the dispensations of fortune, to which we remit ourselves, withal not knowing, how she in her lubricity may every moment change cases. Upon the whole it will appear, that since Restraint is the most high happy and wholesome course of life, and that our souls which are much nobler than our Bodies, are much advantaged thereby, and yet these souls, though such immortal and noble substances, are but imprisoned and penned up in our bodies, it were a very great injustice that the body should ill resent any confinement, when that the immortal soul that actuates it, is so close a prisoner to the body itself. FINIS. Errata. 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